Live Music Head

2011-11-27T12:02:00.000-08:00

The House Where Nobody Lives
by Lisa McDonald
Live Music Head

There's a house on my block that's abandoned and cold
The folks moved out of it a long time ago
They took all their things
and they never came back
It looks like it's haunted, with the windows all cracked
Everyone calls it the house,

the house where nobody lives

Once it held laughter
Once it held dreams
Did they throw it away?
Did they know what it means?
Did someone's heart break,
or did someone do somebody wrong?

Well the paint was all cracked,
it was peeled off of the wood
Papers were stacked on the porch where I stood
and the weeds had grown up just as high as the door
There were birds in the chimney, and an old chest of drawers
Looks like no one will ever come back

to the house were nobody lives

Once it held laughter
Once it held dreams
Did they throw it away?
Did they know what it means?
Did someone's heart break,
or did someone do somebody wrong?
So if you find someone;
someone to have, someone to hold,

don't trade it for silver, don't trade it for gold
Because I have all of life's treasures
and they’re fine and they're good
They remind me that houses
are just made of wood
What makes a house grand ain't the roof or the doors
If there's love in a house, it's a palace for sure
Without love, it ain't nothin but a house...
a house where nobody lives

The loneliness is too much to bare,
and the pain, too great.
Everything I love hurts me.
Everything that has given me joy,
hurts me.
“Here within my lonely frame,
my eyes just hurt my brain” ~ The Yardbirds.
The loss of wildlife
and innocent animals by the machines of man,
people in all their selfish pursuits,
my favourite tv shows to my favourite songs,
and what’s left of my memory,
only seem to hurt me.
When someone like Clarence Clemons passes away,
or seeing death on the face of Robin Gibb,
another chunk of my youthfulness falls off me,
and slips away.
I cry and cry and cry.
I can’t stand this world.
It’s incredibly sad,
and grows more and more cruel every single day.
With a thimble full of hope,
I’ve managed to stay engaged,
following my passions,
keeping one foot in and one foot out,
one step ahead,
and three steps back.
And it amazes me,
the sense of humour and playfullness
that I can sometimes still have with it.
But it’s really pathetic when I’m expected
to convince myself and others
that my soul is any less tortured or in peril
than it actually is.
While my bank account depletes,
and my future never more questionable,
I can’t find any meaning or reason for it,
at all.
And the pain inside continues to grow ever deeper.
Much of this pain I carry around,
I’ve carried around my entire life.
But ever since those biggest lies hit me;
hit, hurt, and humiliated,
I’ve come to realize just how much of this life
is nothing but a lie upon a lie, upon a lie, upon a lie.
"Your heroes turn out to be assholes,
and the light in the tunnel that you've been chasin'
is a train" ~ unknown.
I may sound naive, but I’m really not.
I’ve been the strong, confident,
independent woman all my life,
fearless,
choosing to believe in myself and having faith,
while wrecklessly,
and sometimes self-destructively,
totally and completely falling in love with experience.
And my coping skills have taken a beating.
I don’t care to fight the battle anymore.
The suit of armour that you have to wear
to go out there
no longer fits,
and the masks won’t stay in place on my face.
Pamela des Barres describes herself,
and me at the same time,
when she says:
"I was always such a seeker,
though all the way through it,
it seems I've had an unworthy feeling,
like I didn't deserve the great things in life,
yet I somehow kept expecting them.
That constant hope seems to have diminished,
but I know I could change it in a snap."
Oh, I’ve changed it in a snap alright,
many, many, and many times over.
But that last time I snapped,
I was 46.
And when I proved to be unworthy yet again,
the chances of finding happiness
became slimmer than ever.
I really want to be part of something;
something important, something special;
something smart;
something that I can love, respect,
and care about, deeply.
Finding it in the old-age home
is not what I had in mind.
After years of going from one lover to another,
one home to another,
one job to another,
one social circle to the other,
finding the one who,
before hurting me more than any other,
and the community he revolved in,
was the closest I’d come to
what I’d been seeking all along.
It may sound absurd,
being that in reality,
I was really so very far from the heart of it.
And it is absurd.
But good, bad, right, wrong, or ugly,
it’s the truth.
I’m a rock and roll romantic,
and I thought maybe, just maybe,
all my dreams could finally come true.
But the passionate fire that burned inside me
was extinguished by
a very, very, very cold pail of water.
And it may have been all just part of my mid-life crisis,
but it left me as crushed as the ten-year-old
whose best friend broke all her crayons,
before going off with the new kid in the school yard.
I live in a constant state of disappointment.
And the emptiness inside is forever expanding.
That community I need,
like the intimate love,
and real emotional connection I seek,
remains elusive.
And if I’m expected to carry on,
I need those things like never before.
It’s just like Peter Tork says...
"If you don't have a sense of community
or a higher power,
then you blame yourself,
think bad of yourself,
struggle,
and try to divert.
One form of diversion is entertaining.
If you can make thousands love you,
you'll be all right.
But in fact,
it makes no fucking difference.
It's a kick when you're on stage,
but an hour and a half later,
it starts all over."
I can’t stand it.
I desperately need to believe in love,
and in human beings,
and to unleash the flood of love
that’s been forever trapped inside me.
It’s complete torture otherwise.
And this shell of a body
that I walk around in every day
is described best by Tom Waits.
In that song of his...
The House Where Nobody Lives.
I really should get up and wipe away the dust
that weighs heavy on the baseboards
at the bottom of the walls surrounding me,
and looking out the back window,
I really should go out and rake those leaves.
As I listen to the singer-songwriter,
also known as genius,
completely nail it.
He nails it!
Describing the block I live on,
the body I walk around in,
and the brick house that shelters me.
Listening to it, I hear the old soul,
my broken heart,
and the truth of it tears me apart.
"It has been said, 'time heals all wounds'.
I do not agree.
The wounds remain.
In time, the mind, protecting its sanity,
covers them with scar tissue and the pain lessens,
but it is never gone." ~ Rose Kennedy

Watch and listen right here to the treasure that is Mr Waits,
describing in a way that only he can,
The House Where Nobody Lives ...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tV1d4M_GDDI

Pamela des Barres ~ I'm with the Rock Tour

2011-02-19T20:59:00.000-08:00

Live Music Head
goes to Los Angeles
by Lisa McDonald

Best-selling author,
renowned journalist and internet columnist,
Pamela des Barres is the rock and roll chick writer
known to many of us as
‘the world’s most famous groupie’.

An authority on classic rock and
a spokesperson for her generation,
des Barres chronicled her relationships
with Mick Jagger, Keith Moon and Jimmy Page
among others, in the 1987 book,
I’m with the Band;
a book that left a big impression upon me
when I first read it at the age of twenty.
Because I was a rock and roll chick writer at the time,
and I’m still a rock and roll chick writer,
twenty seven years later.
When I first heard about Pamela’s L.A. Rock Tour,
I wanted to sign up immediately.
But it took till last summer,
following the worst rock and roll heartbreak of my life,
and the need to escape my own city,
that I finally booked it.
I’ve always had difficulty calling myself a groupie,
probably because of what the word commonly conjures up.
But I suppose I am.
And having said that,
I would have undoubtedly been just like Pamela
back in the golden days of rock,
drawn to the sense of humour
and zest for life imbued by Keith Moon.
And this despite the fact that
Pamela describes the Who drummer as
an alcoholic cokehead who wrecked cars,
stripped naked in pubs and bars,
and demolished his marriage with cognac.
"Making mistakes is simply part of
the locomotion of vitality" ~ Keith Moon
Loving a man like that can destroy you.
Loving the wrong person can destroy you.
Not much seems to have changed
since the 50s, 60s and 70s, really.
There’s still plenty to be destroyed by in rock.

Over the years,
Pamela de Barres has popped up in documentaries
covering the tumultuous counter-culture of the 1960s,
and she’s also in one of my favourite flicks,
the Mayor of the Sunset Strip.
She’s released five books to date,
and when I discovered her in my bootleg copy of
the Jimi Hendrix Sex Tape,
alongside Cynthia Plaster Caster

(a self-described "recovering groupie”
known for casting rock star penises),
I realized the one who wrote I’m with the Band
was still very active in the world of rock and roll.
Hearing her discuss the manliness of the rock guitar god was fun,
but no one will ever convince me that that was actually Jimi.
Nor would anyone have convinced me back in the eighties
that I’d be boarding a Rock Tour van with Pamela des Barres,
outside Amoeba Records in Hollywood California, twenty ten.
But before booking the flight to LAX,
a re-visit of Pamela des Barres’ early days got underway.
A handsome fella by the name of O.C. Miller
slaved in the Kentucky gold mines before
moving his family to sunny California,
where his daughter Pamela Ann was born,
in Reseda, 1948.
I too come from a family of men who slaved in the mines;
the Canadian coal mines of Glace Bay, Nova Scotia, that is.
I’m a Coal Miner’s Granddaughter.
Growing up, Pamela idolized Elvis Presley,
daydreamed about Paul McCartney
and fantasized over Mick Jagger.
My first loves were Glen Campbell and David Essex,
before I was dead set on marrying both Elton John
and Eric Faulkner of the Bay City Rollers.
In high school,
Pamela made the genitalia of Jagger
the focus of her art class project,
and it earned her an A.
This was around the time she met Don Van Vliet,
better known as Captain Beefheart,
who introduced her to the music scene
heating up the Sunset Strip.
Pamela Miller popped the Pill
and went searching for an identity through rock and roll.
What young Pamela wanted was
to take care of a man who made music;
a man who might yank out her own lurking creativity.
As someone who’s been searching for the very same thing
over the last three decades,
I can certainly relate to this.
But I hadn’t yet begun penetrating Toronto’s music scene
when Miss Miller was already dancing to the Doors,
tripped-out inside the psychedelic haze of the Whiskey a Go-Go.
Pamela not only met the leather-clad god of cock,
but rolled around on the backstage floor with Jim Morrison.
But the first man to break her?
Nick St Nicholas, the bass player from Steppenwolf.
After graduating from high school in 1966,
Miss Pamela landed the job of nanny
to the children of Gail and Frank Zappa,
whom she not only made lifelong friends with,
but became a member of Frank’s girly group creation,
The GTOs (Girls Together Outrageously).
A mix of music, spoken word and performance art,
the singing group released an album in 1969
and they called it Permanent Damage.
I was exposed to Frank Zappa and the Mothers of Invention
when I was still a minor;
sitting in the passenger seat of my brother’s
souped-up 1968 Ford Torino
with Over-nite Sensation blasting through the car stereo.
In the 1970s Miller pursued a career as an actress,
beginning with the Zappa film 200 Motels.
She also did television commercials
and appeared in the soap opera,
Search for Tomorrow.
My stay-at-home mother watched soap operas,
and when I became a teen
I too was lured to General Hospital
by way of Luke and Laura.
There are also screen tests to be found of
des Barres stretched out on a bed with Rocky,
this girl’s all-time favourite film of 1976,
starring Sylvester Stallone.
Pamela was auditioning for a role as a prostitute.
Woody Allen, my all-time favourite film maker,
was also Pamela’s date on several outings to the cinema.
Miller kept journals of these and other experiences,
faithfully recording all the exciting details of her life,
which of course ended up in her books.
My life hasn’t been nearly as exciting,
but I too kept a journal throughout my teens and twenties.
I really wish I could go back and read the story I wrote
about three-way cocaine sex with a Rastafarian,
while menstruating in Jamaica,
but I lost my journals to a basement flood.
Pamela went through all the highs and lows one could imagine,
searching for love beneath a rock star’s belt buckle,
but it was the actor Don Johnson,
star of the 80s cop drama Miami Vice,
that Pamela cites as her first real love.
This of course, was before she totally flipped over
glam rocker Michael des Barres,
and married him in 1977.
Mrs des Barres gave birth to their son Nicholas a year later.
Living the life of wife and mother,
Pamela cooked, cleaned and nurtured,
but settle down?
Not.
The groupie guru set the standard for
sexual honesty in women's writing with her first book,
and then followed it with
Take Another Little Piece of My Heart,
(a Groupie Grows Up)
documenting the ups and downs of a rock and roll marriage,
and the ultimate demise of hers to Michael, in 1991.

I often cite Carrie Bradshaw, and the
scripts of Sex and the City as top influences
in boosting my confidence
as a female writer, but Pamela had to be the first.
She’s written numerous articles for Cosmopolitan,
the New York Times,
Spin, and Playgirl, and for five years,
interviewed rock stars for a column at E! On-Line.
These days,
I too interview musicians.

Pamela has made numerous appearances on radio and television,
and in 1998 got her very own E! True Hollywood Story.
She also had a monthly column in Rolling Stone Italy.
And Pamela’s love of sex?
Well,
I can certainly identify with that too.
I’m fascinated by the world of Hugh Hefner,
and I highly recommend the 2009 documentary
Playboy, Activist and Rebel.
It’s a very good study on the controversial media mogul
who built his sexy empire dressed in silk pajamas.
While on a separate tour of L.A.,
I made a point of visiting the resting places of
a few Playboy Bunnies,
including that of Marilyn Monroe,
who graced the very first cover of Playboy magazine.
It was her resting place I was most moved by.
Hefner has reserved the spot above Monroe
for when his time comes,
but did you know that at the age of 40,
Pamela posed nude for Playboy as well?
She’s also a breast cancer survivor, a yoga devotee,
and believe it or not,
an ordained minister who marries people, to boot.
She collaborated with Dick & Dee Dee
to release a Rock and Roll Cookbook,
a book I’ve never seen or read, let alone cooked from,
but I’d sure like to!
For me,
it’s not just about Pamela’s enthusiasm for great music
and writing about it that I find so fascinating.
Nor all the sex she’s had with the men who make it.
I’m fascinated by all her accomplishments,
and that she’s had the strength to survive.
Many of her peers in the generation of
sex, drugs and rock and roll,
simply did not.
I’m not sure I would have survived
the heartbreak of rock’s relationships back then.
I’m barely surviving the one I just had.
And Pamela’s also endured the often cruel criticism
that comes from just being a groupie.
People have forgotten that the word groupie
wasn’t always a bad word.

"One time I was standing by
a backstage door
in all my groupie regalia,
when some woman sneered...
'what are you
supposed to be?'
I replied, 'I’m the reason
they picked up a guitar in the first place'”.
~ Patti Johnsen

“Of course it sounds narcissistic when
‘muse’ is used to describe one’s self,
but I identify with the class of groupie
such as Marianne Faithfull.
She brought style and class to the dirty Rolling Stones.
She should be admired and respected for that.
Of course I identify with the exciting wild sex,
but I never wanted to be the heavily made up chick
hanging out back stage snapping bubblegum,
hoping some rock star would notice
my short shorts and tube top,
and go back to the trailer park with me” ~ Bebe Buell
This writer likes role play,
and has to admit to a little excitement typing that,
but admires and respects Marianne Faithfull
for the very same reasons as Beull.
I also admire Faithfull’s courage for writing Why d’ya Do It?
Steven Tyler said,
“we give it out, and the groupies give it back”.
I just finished reading Pamela’s book,
Rock Bottom: Dark Moments in Music Babylon,
and much of it will stay with me for a long time.
I’m in a dark place myself,
and much of what’s analyzed in this blog,
comes directly as a result from my own heartbreak
and the many heartbreaks documented in rock and roll.
But it was Pamela’s relationship with Jimmy Page
that she wrote about in her first book
that’s stayed with me from the beginning.
I was never particularly hot for Led Zeppelin’s guitarist.
As a teenager, I worshipped at the altar of Robert Plant instead;
the singer of Whole Lotta Love,
the greatest cock rock anthem of all time.
Today, when I re-visit the band,
I seem to be drawn more to the Zeppelin drummer.
Before John Bonham consumed forty shots of vodka,
choked on his own vomit and died in 1980,
he was just like Keith Moon,
slightly insane,
and an incredible life force behind the drum kit.
But I must say,
I’m completely horrified to learn that
Bonham had a thing for taking a shit
inside the shoes and purses of his groupies.
Could he not think of a more charming way to thank them?
And because we’re speaking of groupies,
does anyone remember Sweet Connie Hamzy,
who’s charms are immortalized in
the Grand Funk Railroad song,
We’re An American Band?
As opposed to other groupies I’ve read about,
Hamzy strikes me as a chick who
looks at sex just like a guy;
simply adding knotches to her belt of conquests.
Again, I prefer the style of Marianne Faithfull,
Bebe Beull, and Pamela des Barres.
Or even the woman who slept with a lot of men in music,
but wouldn’t have sex with assholes...
“If David Lee Roth was nice,
I’d have slept with him in a heartbeat.
But he was an asshole.
Like Roger Daltrey; cocky and belligerent.
They were both assholes” ~ Gayle O’Connor
And for loving and catering to the every whim of Mr Page,
by succumbing to the guitarist’s powerful seduction,
Miss Pamela was rewarded in the end by
being pushed aside by Jimmy as he whisked away a new groupie
(all of 13 years of age, no less),
in a waiting limo outside the a Go-Go.
Miss Pamela,
his lover up to that point,
with no reason to think that seat in the limousine wasn’t hers,
was left standing at the curb, stunned,
jaw-dropped and heartbroken.
She loved him.
She loved him then,
and she probably still has love in her heart for him now.
It doesn’t take a brain surgeon to figure out why
someone like me identifies with someone like Pamela des Barres.
She’s pure rock and roll baby,
and she writes about it.
And what a writer;
clever, witty, hilarious, and at times,
painful and sad;
yet always revealing in its ugliness,
as well as its glorious beauty.
Pamela: “I was crushed almost beyond recognition”.
But she overcame the hurt.
Me?
I was fighting back tears the entire time I was on the Rock Tour,
processing a fresh wound.
I’m still crushed.
But it’s a lifetime of hurts, really.
In 2001,
I recall a most profound emotional moment
that happened to me,
and it was at a show in Kirkersville, Ohio.
Standing in a field at Frontier Ranch surrounded by tractors,
I was terribly excited to know I was finally going to see
my favourite country music outlaw,
Willie Nelson.
But I was in love with a rock guitarist at the time,
and he wasn’t there with me.
Just before departing on the road trip with a girlfriend,
I had a big fight with him;
a big enough fight that left me wondering whether
he’d be there when I got back.
Troubled, and only steps from the Hookahville stage
when Willie began to sing Always on My Mind,
it’s no wonder I fell apart.
It was the first time I ever experienced
such uncontrollable emotion at a show.
I rushed to cover my face with both hands,
but the cracks between my fingers couldn’t stop
the flood that gushed through them.
“If I made you feel second best
Girl I'm so sorry I was blind
But you were always on my mind
You were always on my mind”
I’ll never ever forget it.
What a song that is!
I can still barely listen to it.
My relationship with that rock guitarist went on for 7 years,
but smoking pot and the bass player in his band
were always much bigger priorities to him than me.
I’ve had similar emotional moments since then,
and when I booked the flight to Los Angeles,
I was full of self-doubt that I’d be able to control
my emotions under a bright California sun.
Truth be known,
I much prefer clouds and rain.
Like Loudon Wainwright the Third says,
“When it’s Grey in L.A., it’s much better that way
It reminds you that this town’s so cruel.
It might feel like fun when you’re sportin’ sunglasses
But really, you’re just one more fool”.
Mr Wainwright has a new record out aptly titled,
10 Songs for the New Depression.
However, from the second I stepped foot in Hollywood,
my emotional well being was well looked after.
From the staff of the places I stayed,
and the proprietors of the bars and restaurants I frequented,
to the people I met pounding
the star-studded pavement of Hollywood’s Walk of Fame,
I was treated very well.
Thank f^*king god.
Because you see,
we shared the same memories
of nineteen seventies suburban culture,
that last guy and me.
Growing up on the same rock and roll music,
being able to communicate in the middle of the night for hours,
on a wide variety of subjects,
along with outstanding sexual chemistry,
should have made me that guy’s dream girl.
Being a hot cock rocker with a James Brown smile,
a big supporter of my writings,
and the producer of rock shows
covering music I desperately loved,
certainly made him this rock and roll chick writer’s dream guy.
On my first Hollywood night,
I spun around Hidden L.A.
in a very cool sports car convertible.
And in my head I heard the driving drums
behind the Detroit rocker who sings...
“Night after night, day after day, it went on and on.
Then came that morning he woke up alone.
He spent all night staring down at the lights of L.A.,
wondering if he could ever go home”
~ Bob Seger, Hollywood Nights
Parking the convertible,
my friend Lynn and I entered the legendary Rainbow Room,
where we eyeballed porn king Ron Jeremy
dining with a busty bleached-blonde at the table next to us.
If I hadn’t inhaled such copious amounts of food
to the point of barely being able to breathe,
I would certainly have peeled my ass off the chair
to go introduce myself to The Hedgehog.
I really wanted to say,
“It’s a pleasure to meet you Mr Jeremy...
I’ve seen ALL your films”.
Instead I reached down under the table,
undid the bloated button of my blue jeans,
and watched a steady stream of other patrons approach him.
“I was always such a seeker,
tho’ all the way through it seems
I had an unworthy feeling,
like I didn’t deserve the great things in life,
yet somehow kept expecting them.
That constant hope seems to have diminished,
but I know I could change it in a snap.”
~ Pamela des Barres
Since entering my forties,
time moves faster than a locomotive.
My god, I’m closer to fifty now!
How the hell did that happen?
And why didn’t age prevent me from
getting crazy over that guy?
Instead, I was just like The Rose who said,
“let me open up my lovin’ arms and my lovin’ legs...
dive right in baby, the water is fine!”
And I opened them for him again and again,
and again and again.
And again.
And again.
And again.
And again.
And again.
And then he denied he knew me,
publicly.
Twice.
Three times, and I would have cried Peter.
The humiliation and betrayal of his lie
still hurts like nothing I’ve felt before.
I loved that man of music.
And it wasn’t like he was married
and I signed up to be his dirty little secret either.
No.
Not at all.
With the way I put myself out here,
shedding layer upon layer of my skin,
the last thing I was looking for was
to be his, or anybody’s dirty little secret.
It may not have been a committed relationship,
but it was certainly intimate, and going on for years.
But more important than being his lover,
I was his friend.
His denial of me leaves me feeling sub-human,
and completely alienated from his music.
My hometown is no longer the same for me,
and I can’t even listen to music the same way.
I do still listen, of course,
because I don’t know what else to do.
“Miss Tina is proud of her oral abilities
and loves to climb aboard the bus to show her appreciation.
But when she leaves, they’ll talk shit about her. ~ Sarah Madison
Many have perished tragically in rock and roll,
and I’m not talking about just the ones who made the music.
Take Pamela Courson, for instance; Jim Morrison’s muse.
It’s amazing Pamela des Barres didn’t end up like her.
But no matter how many times des Barres
ended up a crumpled heap on the floor of rock and roll heartbreak,
she always seemed to rise above it.
And remaining friends with her past loves
seemed the only way for her to go.
Where some people become angry and bitter,
or dead,
Pamela’s large love of life and large love of love
seems to have prevented any of that.
"I stay single because I don’t want to be someone’s ex.
I don’t want to lose people in my life" ~ something about Mary
The early evening of my second day in Los Angeles,
was spent making glorious trails
through the Hollywood hills on horseback.
It was like I was in a western movie
trotting atop Shakespeare with Poncho,
as the sun went down over the Hollywood sign.
And just like Bob Seger,
I stared down on the lights of L.A.
but thought it looked more like the Emerald City.
As glorious as it was,
and as lucky as I was to be up there,
I still felt sad.
Love Hurts ~ Nazareth
Love Stinks ~ J Geils Band
And then on July 31, 2010,
my third day in Los Angeles,
I finally met Pamela des Barres,
queen of the groupies.
It was a litte weird...
as it always is when
you meet someone you’ve known all your life,
for the very first time.
She on the other hand seemed quite comfortable
leading her groovy flock down the lane of classic rock memories...

The first stop on the Rock Tour was
The Hullabaloo on Sunset Blvd,
a place where the Allman Brothers played
when they were still called Hourglass.
And across the street was the Hollywood Palladium,
where a number of shows were recorded by the Grateful Dead.
Speaking of the Dead,
I was a follower of theirs through much of the 90s.
But followers of the San Francisco psychedelic band
who rock impresario Bill Graham described as
“not the best at what they do,
but the only ones who do what they do”,
were never called groupies.
Followers of Jerry Garcia and his mates
are called Deadheads;
the most deadicated music fans in rock history.
Lured by the jam of intelligent spontaneous music,
enveloped in a kind (emphasis on kind) communal,
travelling circus-like atmosphere
with other creative and colourful individuals,
was the appeal.

Through the voices of
Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young,
it was Suite Judy Blue Eyes who said,
“sometimes it hurts so badly,
I must cry out loud”.
Pamela says remaining friends
with past loves is easy.
It’s only up to me.
But he denied my existence,
so friends with that guy,
how can I possibly be?
Our relationship was
blown apart by lies,
and I’m not sure
I’ll ever rise above the debris.
But Pamela and Nick
are still friends.
She told us how her very first lover
called up only recently and said,
“I think of you often,
and when I do, I love you”.
However, another side of Pamela tells of a
turbulent relationship she’s had with the Lord, and
“panicky throes of guilt for just being born”.
She plans to release a book about it,
and I can’t wait to read it.
Because I’m a girl who went to Catholic school
and was forced to go to church until she was 12.
And the first time I heard the name J Krishnamurti
may have been when I interviewed
Toronto blues musician David Rotundo,
but the second time was in Pamela’s books.
She wrote about wanting to transform herself instantaneously,
while listening to the spiritual philosopher speak.
I wouldn’t mind being transformed.
I wouldn’t mind that at all.
“If you don’t have a sense of community
or a higher power,
then you blame yourself,
think bad of yourself,
struggle,
and try to divert.
One form of diversion is entertaining.
If you can make thousands love you,
you’ll be all right.
But in fact,
it makes no fucking difference.
It’s a kick when you’re on stage,
but an hour and a half later,
it starts all over” ~ Peter Tork
Next stop, the Landmark Motel.
Janis Joplin stayed here.
And I must’ve visualized this place a hundred times
while reading Buried Alive by Myra Friedman.
Sitting in the van looking out at it,
I’m soaked in memory of when I drank
an entire 26 ouncer of Southern Comfort straight up,
right out of the bottle, all by myself.
I was under a suburban bridge with
my suburban teenage friends,
who were drinking stubby bottles of Labatt’s 50.
A few hours later those same friends
deposited a five foot small poisoned mess of alcohol,
on the front porch of her parent’s house.
My mother exclaimed,
“your eyes are rolled back in your head!”
It was 1979, and I was 16 trying to prove
I was as tough as Janis.
Needless to say,
I haven’t touched that brand of whiskey liqueur since.
Janis Joplin was a “doomed diva chock full of soul”.
And oh, how she struggled with her insecurities and ego,
working in what was primarily a man’s field.
Highly intelligent with the emotions of a child,
her lonely rock and roll world became uncontrollable.
Those who’ve seen the documentary Festival Express,
will know the rant inside her performance of Cry Baby.
And I was just that,
sitting in the cinema watching her in the film
when it premiered at the Toronto International Film Festival.
Joplin was found in Room 105 of the Landmark,
dead from a heroin overdose.
The hotel is now called Highland Gardens.
Pamela may not have discovered Bruce Springsteen until the 80s,
but the Sunset Marquis is apparently where
the Boss stays when visiting L.A.
The groupie queen wrote in her book that
she got sprayed with Springsteen sweat pellets,
standing side stage of Bruce,
compliments of Howard Kaylan.
She ends the latest edition with the same song lyric
I had silkscreened across my 1985 breasts...
“You can’t start a fire without a spark. This gun’s for hire”.
The space between my mid-eighties thighs
throbbed over the Boss,
when I saw him eleven times at the peak of his career.
Pamela chose to read a Tiny Tim story
as we sat parked in front of the Marquis.
Tiny was the first to call des Barres Miss P.
Next stop...
The Whiskey a Go-Go.

There was lots of hustle and bustle
as some band was pulling in with their gear.
I sat in a wine-coloured booth
absorbing the Whiskey around me.
But only briefly.
Soon I was back out on the sidewalk where
Kip Brown,
(one helluva nice guy who cruised me
in his sports car convertible
directly to the gravesite of Marilyn Monroe),
had our group positioned for a photo,
just like the GTOs back in the 60s.

In the recently released American Masters documentary,
Lennon NYC,
Yoko Ono talks about the night Richard Nixon was elected;
the same night she went to a party at
Jerry Rubin’s in New York with husband John.
Drunk and full of rage,
John Lennon,
in front of everyone at the party,
went into another room to fuck a girl
who was not his wife.
And apparently he was fucking her so loudly,
a Bob Dylan album was cranked
to try and drown them out.
Perhaps a more suitable record would’ve been...
Woman is the Nigger of the World.
Completely humiliated,
Yoko threw John out of their Manhattan apartment,
and he ran off to Hollywood
to drink vodka at the Troubadour Club,
with a Kotex on his head.
The Rock Tour didn’t stop at Doug Weston’s,
but I thought about poor John as we drove by,
and how,
by his own admission,
he couldn’t deal with the loneliness of bachelorhood.

Dan Tanas was pointed out to us as where
Wall of Sound
record producer
Phil Spector
was spotted before
killing movie actress
Lana Clarkson.
I saw The Agony and Ecstasy of Phil Spector;
a film that is absolute essential viewing
for someone like me.
I was mesmerized, disturbed , and riveted.
I also laughed out loud.
Spector came from poverty,
unpopular and bullied in school,
and had a mother who abused him.
Yet he grew up to be writer of many songs,
songs with the hook.
Be My Baby,
written in 1963 for the Ronettes is
not only the most enduring song of its era,
introduced by Dick Clark on American Bandstand as
“the record of the century”,
but it’s a song of longing,
longing for acceptance that pleads for a chance...
“The night we met I knew I needed you so
And if I had the chance I'd never let you go
So won't you say you love me
I'll make you so proud of me
We'll make 'em turn their heads
Every place we go
So won't you please”
Spector also wrote
To Know Him is To Love Him
for his first vocal group, The Teddy Bears.
At first listen one may think it’s just a sappy teenage love song,
but Phil is actually conveying feelings about his father,
who took his own life in the family garage
when Phil was only 10.
These songs were cast in darkness and isolation,
by a writer on the outside looking in.
And perhaps this is why
John Lennon had Phil in the studio with him
when he was working on the song God;
God as a concept by which we measure our pain.
George Harrison also sought Spector out
when he was writing My Sweet Lord.
Spector,
“the genius who the geniuses went to”,
also produced the Beatles album Let it Be.
But Phil Spector was and is a scared man,
a man whose insecurities are evident in
his teased-high hair and platform shoes.
He is a self-described loner of no faith or beliefs,
but sincerely wishes he could be that little old lady;
the trusting little old lady who gives her life savings
to the televangelist every Sunday.
Larry Paul Fidler,
the Los Angeles County Superior Court Judge
who presided over the trial,
put the Tycoon of Teen on suicide watch when he was found guilty.
Because Fidler wanted to ensure
Spector served time for his crime.
“I have devils inside that fight me,
and I’m my own worst enemy” ~ Phil Spector
The Rock Tour is now speeding past a Mexican restaurant
that we’re told used to be the offices of the Doors,
before Kip whipped around a corner
and suddenly stopped in front of a house;
the same house where Jimmy Page telephoned Pamela
with promises of an airline ticket to join him on the Zep tour.
The same house at the corner of Alfred & St Romaine
where Pamela took on Waylon Jennings;
a strapping man the likes of which she’d never had before.
The entire van was a heavy intake of breath,
thinking about that one.
Next stop, the legendary Barney’s Beanery.
A place that inspired the Doors to write Soul Kitchen,
and where Janis Joplin was last seen alive.

Walking behind Miss P into the restaurant,
I get a good look at the tattoos on her shoulders.
Jesus.
Over huevos rancheros,
she tells everyone just one more thing...
and that’s how much she loves Lt Columbo.
Just like me!
Stairway to Heaven plays overhead
and the menus read like newspapers.

The table tops are my desk at home with a collage of
pop culture under glass,
and the plaque over there marks the bar
where Jim Morrison pissed all over it.
While happy hippies floated by on puffy clouds of 1967 mary jane,
Morrison was yet another out-of-control rock star,
crooning about insanity, incest and murder.
I once loved everything about Morrison.
I had a lifesize poster of him tacked to my bedroom door.
But after viewing the Oliver Stone biopic a dozen times,
I find it harder and harder to tolerate his story.
I did however enjoy the never-before-seen images of
Jim swimming in the oceans of When You’re Strange.
About Marilyn Monroe,
Jim Morrison has been quoted as saying...
“She lets it all hang out.
She’s everything to all people”.
It’s also been written that Janis Joplin
smashed a bottle of booze over Morrison’s head.
I wonder if he said the same thing to her
as some loser said to Bette Midler
before she did the same thing in the Rose.
And now, some forty years later,
a U.S. court has posthumously pardoned
Morrison’s outrageous behaviour,
at least that of which happened
on the concert stage in Miami, FLA.
I wouldn’t have wanted to be Pam Courson;
the so-called love of Jim Morrison’s life.
Nor would I have wanted to be Patricia Kennealy,
the New York writer who became his Wicca wife,
and then aborted his baby.
With the life Jim led;
full of temptation, lies and deceit,
it’s amazing he lived as long as 27 years.
Pamela Courson couldn’t cope with it,
and followed in death a few years after him.

Morrison once said:
“a hero is someone who rebels or seems to rebel
against the facts of existence,
and even seems
to conquer them.
Obviously that can only work at moments.

It can’t be a lasting thing.
That’s not to say
people should stop rebelling
against the facts of existence.
Someday, who knows,
we might conquer death,
disease and war.
I think of myself as an intelligent,
sensitive human being
with the soul of a clown.”
Miss P reminds me of Mackenzie Phillips
and Stevie Nicks in some of the old pictures
that have spilled from her bag of James Dean.
I absolutely loved Mackenzie in American Graffitti.
Images of her as a minor in the passenger seat of
Milner’s piss yellow and puke green hotrod are ingrained.
I also grew up watching Phillips
and Eddie Van Halen’s ex-wife
when they took it One Day at a Time.
But I had no idea back then that
the teenage actress was a drug-addicted psychotic
with deep seeded paranoia.
She claims to have had an incestuous relationship with her father;
John, from the Mamas and the Papas.
As for Stevie Nicks, well,
from the small bits I’ve heard and read about,
there still seems to be a fair amount of bad weather
between the Bella Donna
and her old band mates from Fleetwood Mac.
And as more mementos are passed around the table,
Jill breaks from the Rock Tour;
the producer who’s been tagging along with us,
researching for the adaptation of I’m with the Band
into a television miniseries.
Jill also worked on Six Feet Under,
a brilliant HBO drama about
a family of funeral directors,
and a series I’ve seen every episode of.
Next stop is Laurel Canyon,
and on the way there,
we saw where Frank Zappa’s log cabin burned down.
We also saw the house where Gail Zappa
currently still lives with daughter Diva.
But standing out front of the house that
Jim Morrison once lived with Courson,
directly beside the apartment where
des Barres lived at the same time,
we heard another story;

the story of when des Barres got high
on Trimar with Jim
and did a naked back bend for him,
while an enraged Courson tossed
his clothes out the window.
There’s a laundromat below the apt now,
and I silently wished it was a public washroom.
The twists and turns of the Canyon,
played serious havoc on my bladder,
but dammit,
we had to find Burrito Manor!

When a hand-drawn map by Chris Hillman
spilled out of James Dean back at the Beanery,
it was quite a surprise to Pamela.
She didn’t know it was in there.
Telling us she hasn’t been to the Manor in over forty years got the whole van excited to be finding it again, with her.

And when we finally did,
I peed at the foot of it;
an incredibly long pee,
that despite all the standing strength postures I do in yoga class,
still challenged my ankles,
as I squatted behind the Rock Tour van.
Fortunately no one could hear the endless yellow hiss
as they listened intently to Pamela read,
standing between two brick pillars.
The Flying Burrito Brothers wrote, recorded and lived here.
And at the time,
Pamela was head over heels in love with Hillman.
She was also head over heels in love with Gram Parsons,
the other Burrito Brother.
The opening passage of Rock Bottom is
one of the most beautiful des Barres has written.
She describes her experience listening to Parsons sing a song
about a guy who couldn’t bear to stay in the same town
his ex-girl used to reside.
I know what that feels like.
I’d love to abandon my home in Toronto
for someplace else,
but in today’s world,
there’s really nowhere left to hide.
With the internet,
and society’s ability and addiction
to instantly record,
and share anything and everything on the www,
it’s harder and harder to escape.
As long as there’s an electronic device at your fingertips,
it’s ever so easy to access the very pain you’re trying to avoid.
Not that you can leave your pain behind on the run anyway.
“Nowhere to run to baby, nowhere to hide”
~ Martha and the Vandellas
When Springsteen was on Jimmy Fallon in Nov, 2010,
he said,
“you can’t sneak around like you used to”.
Gram Parsons’ life was full of cheating,
backstabbing, drugs and suicide.
He said to his sister,
“Life can be real and beautiful
if you build it that way, honestly;
with no lies or shadows to be afraid of later.”
Parsons may have been a heroin-addicted
alcoholic country rock star,
but upon seeing the front man of the Rolling Stones
cozy up to Pamela des Barres
from the Burrito stage one night,
Parsons warned Mick Jagger...
“Watch out for Miss Pamela.
She’s a beauty, and she’s tender-hearted”.
Emmylou Harris said of Gram Parsons,
“He was never afraid to write from his heart,
and perhaps that’s why he was never really accepted.
It’s like the light was too strong and bright,
and people just had to turn away...
Not many people can take music that real”.

I think it’s safe to say,
I would have fallen in love
with Gram Parsons too.
When Pamela tried dating
someone outside of
rock and roll,
someone “normal”,
the closest she came
was Kramer, as in Cosmo;
Michael Richards
from the Seinfeld tv show.
But she was also
alone for a time,
thinking she may have had
all the sex, love,
and romance
one woman can stand.

But Pamela des Barres today, in 2010,
is madly in love with country music sensation
Mike Stinson.
And living in Marina del Rey,
she still carries a great love of life, and love of love,
claiming to be
“happily sound as ever”.
She’s very proud of her groupiedom,
and though I continue to struggle with aspects of the lifestyle,
and especially the behaviour of our heroes,
there are tons and tons written
between the pages of all her books that
I relate with in some way,
shape or form.
I wish I had half Pamela’s courage.
And at 61,
she’s still very beautiful.
I’m crossing my fingers I look nearly as good
fourteen years from now.
Despite my wounded heart,
and all the doubt I have
in the goodness of mankind,
I still love music.
I dwelled in the tragedies of rock
beating around L.A., I know,
but I was grief-stricken then,
as I am now.
I’m sure this blog would have read differently
had I gone to Hollywood a few years ago,
but I didn’t.
I seem to have lost a great deal
of my vitality over the past year,
as I question every single day
how I can love something
that causes me so much pain.
I also wonder if I really am naive
to have thought
we’d evolved as human beings,
and learned something
since the golden age of rock.
Am I really so naive to think
I could have a true and respectful
relationship with a man of music,
in this decade?
The only thing I know for certain is,
I write from my heart.
And I was sincerely thrilled to be part of
the Pamela des Barres Rock Tour.
Every classic rock fan
should go to Pamela’s website right this moment
and sign up for the next one.
Because I haven’t forgotten
how much joy many of the musicians
talked about on the tour,
have brought into our world, and still do.
And every music fan should read
Pamela’s books as well.
Robert Plant gave a copy of
I’m with the Band
to his teenage daughter,
“so she could read about
what the glorious rock dog and doll days
had really been like”.
Not many artists have
the intelligence and refined tastes
that Plant does,
but I got a chance to witness his charm again
mere weeks ago,
at the Sony Centre for the Performing Arts in Toronto.
The moody, atmospheric, Tom Waits-infused
gospel-blues of his new Band of Joy,
show Plant’s continued growth.
I particularly like the new song
Satan, Your Kingdom Must Come Down.
The only thing that could have made the night even better
would have been if I heard
Sister Rosetta Goes Before Us from Raising Sand...
"Secrets are written in the sky
Looks like I've lost the love I've never found
Though the sound of hope has left me again
I hear music up above"
Robert Plant never worries about what Pamela des Barres writes.
“She’s a truthful chick,” he says.

But Bill grew up under a lie,
and changed his name to Axl.
Angry, violent, and a victim of child abuse,
Axl Rose has been arrested more than once
for assault, disorderly conduct,
public drunkenness and property damage.
He also got rich fronting the rock band Gun n Roses,
because Appetite for Destruction became
the biggest selling debut album in history.
Chuck Berry likes to watch shit fall
from under a woman’s naked bottom.
He was charged with secretly videotaping women
doing just that
in the washroom stall of his restaurant.
When police raided Berry’s home,
almost sixty videotapes were found.
He denied making the tapes,
but still paid out 1.2 million in settlement dollars.
Pamela got a copy of one of the tapes
and paid witness to a very stoned Mercy
(one of her GTO pals)
defacating in a bucket for Berry’s pleasure.
The tape apparently also shows
the naked rock and roller
passing gas in a tub with a bubble bath blonde,
while waving his urine-streaming ding-a-ling
all over her open mouth.
“I know Dennis (Wilson, the Beach Boys)
loved me with all his heart,
but boys will be boys.
The male ego has nothing to do with
the women in their lives.
I’m not saying I applaud it,
but I understand after performing
in front of 250,000 cheering people,
you can’t come off stage, go back to the hotel,
call your wife, and then go to bed.
The adrenaline is pumpin’,
people are telling you how great you are,
and it’s lonely on tour.” ~ Karen Lamm
And Dennis beat up on Karen.
He fractured her sternum in three places
and then dumped her for Fleetwood Mac’s Christine McVie.
“Dennis had the deepest, most caring heart.
He was in a lot of pain because he was supersensitive”.
Hurt people hurt people
and like a lot of folks,
I wasn’t impressed to hear when Heather Mills
poured a glass of water over Paul McCartney’s head
during their divorce proceedings.
It’s a National Enquirer/Jerry Springer type of thing
that makes me cringe.
But assholery drives otherwise well-mannered human beings
to react poorly and inappropriately.
Does anyone out there honestly think Paul McCartney
isn’t capable of being an asshole?
Perhaps it’s just easier to blame the woman.
After all,
as the Godfather of Soul has told us many times...
“this is a man’s man’s man’s world”.
The roadies of the Sex Pistols once had to
rescue a girl from Sid Vicious
after finding him spewing diarrhea
and vomiting all over her,
while she was giving him a blow job.
Sid eventually stabbed Nancy Spungen to death
before killing himself in a New York hotel room.
The late Stevie Ray Vaughan,
during his recovery from alcohol and cocaine abuse,
told a writer,
“There were a lot of things I was running from.
I was scared that somebody would find out I was scared.
And now I’m realizing that fear
is the opposite of love.”
Rick Nelson,
the squeaky clean son of Ozzy and Harriet was
“a walking dichotomy, living two,
maybe three lives at once.
Uncertain if people liked him for any real reason,
caused him to become increasingly remote
and withdrawn,
yet at the same time naively trusting”.
This description of Nelson causes me deep thought.
Ricky perished in a 1985 plane crash.
I could write endlessly about the dark side of rock.
Lord knows there’s ample material to draw from.
But I haven’t had the chance to read
the book of Life by Keith Richards yet.
The headlines at the time of its release
screamed of more rock and roll assholery to me.
Keith and the Stones are great of course,
but of all things Richards could say about Jagger,
did the size of the man’s penis
have to be the focal point?
Some say hitting below the belt was for the publicity,
but I don’t for one second believe that any man,
let alone Mick Jagger with all his bags of money,
would willingly allow his glimmer twin
to tell the world he has a small dick.
I haven’t forgotten the hurtful Rolling Stones events
that led to the demise of their founder Brian Jones, either.
Based on Pamela’s book,
Let’s Spend the Night Together,
VH1 released a brand new rock doc in Dec 2010
and it’s called
Confessions of Rock’s Greatest Groupies.
I haven’t seen it yet, and I really want to,
but I don’t exactly like how the trailer announces
the size of Peter Frampton’s manhood, either.
When Marvin Gaye’s singing partner
died from a brain tumour
(some say it was from a beating to the head
by a jealous lover),
Marvin saw Tammi Terrell as a victim of love.
Gaye’s turmoil over her death drove him
to seclusion with thoughts of suicide.
Marvin also had an addiction to hookers.
He told the French magazine Acuel,
“Passions are dangerous.
They cause you to lust after other men’s wives.
Prostitutes protect me from passion”.
Gaye re-emerged with the critically-acclaimed album,
What’s Goin’ On,
but was later shot to death by his own father.

Badfinger had several hits
before the music business chewed them up
and spit ‘em out.
Pete Ham hanged himself
in 1975,
leaving behind a note that said the band’s manager was
“a soulless bastard”.
Pretty heavy huh?
I believe this is yet another example of an asshole who drove an otherwise good person to react poorly.
Ham’s partner tried to carry on, but eight years later,
Tommy Evans was found by his six-year-old child,
also hanging,
from a tree in the backyard.
“Rock and roll bands are horribly political.
We can be sick, awful people,
particularly in the way we treat each other.
Over the years we’ve resorted to all manner of in-fighting,
head games and mind-fucks
to assert ourselves,
and take the music where we wanted it to go.
In our time, we’ve stolen girlfriends,
manipulated loved ones
and told the most horrible lies about each other.
We’ve gone through long stretches of deceit and cowardice
in order to protect ourselves, and guard our egos.”
~ Dave Bidini, On a Cold Road
And anyone who’s seen the film The Rose
will remember the manipulating manager who helped
nail her coffin shut in the film’s dramatic finale.
Currently in the news,
Elton John offers tough love toward
the substance abuse of Billy Joel,
and Phil Collins,
singer songwriter of Against All Odds,
talks openly about his suicidal tendancies.
And the most recent documentary release I’ve seen,
There But for Fortune, the story of Phil Ochs,
is about the famed troubador
who couldn’t face his humiliation either,
and fell apart tragically in the end.
Phil Ochs was a cheerleader for the underdog,
but if he came back from the dead today,
he’d be extremely disappointed to find
many of the battles he fought in the 60s,
are still raging.
Pamela asked groupie Patti Johnsen
if she ever got her heart broken by a rock star.
She replied, “Taime (Downe, Faster Pussycat)
would throw me down
and fuck me like the whore I am.
But ultimately I realized
I was the only one being exclusive.
When I asked him about it,
he seemed sad
like he didn’t want to hurt me.
And then he said, quite honestly,
‘I never said you were my girlfriend’.
We had the sweetest breakup
and we’re still friends.
Because after we stopped sleeping together,
he would sing my praises and occasionally announce...
'she gave great head’”.
Live Music Head loves rock and roll;
loves listening to it, seeing it live,
buying it, sharing it, talking about it,
promoting it, reading about it, analyzing it,
and having sex with it,
Over Under Sideways Down.
When ... will... it... end?
And it definitely goes without saying,
she likes to write about it.
But these days,
the music I love the most,
hurts me the most.
My passion runs deep,
and so does the hurt.
And I don't think my depression is a sign of weakness.
Rather it’s a sign of trying to be strong for too long.
Many people these days talk about being happy no matter what.
But for some people,
there aren’t enough masks.
And some people need to leave the mask off,
to express the pain.
And when we do,
we shouldn’t be judged, criticized, or told to “get over it”.
These three words are necessary at times,
but they should be used carefully.
Because they can sound incredibly dismissive to someone in pain,
especially after they’ve drummed up enough courage
to seek an ear in the first place.
“When the truth is found to be lies
All the joy within you dies.
Don’t you want somebody to love?
Don’t you need somebody to love?”
Wouldn't you love somebody to love?
You better find somebody to love” ~ Jefferson Airplane
Following a viewing of two back-to-back Bee Gees dvds,
I learned how the Brothers Gibb,
top shelf writers of the most moving love songs ever,
were driven apart.
At the end of the 60s,
Barry, Maurice and Robin couldn’t stand one another,
and didn’t communicate for years.
But when they finally did hook up again,
the song they released was
How Can You Mend a Broken Heart?
Sometimes you can’t.
I believe a human being can die from a broken heart.
I believe it’s what took The Man in Black.
When Johnny Cash decided to cover a song by Nine Inch Nails,
he made it his own.
After viewing the video of Hurt,
you can see why.
"I hurt myself today
To see if I still feel
I focus on the pain
The only thing that's real"
Cash, an impossible man with a tortured soul,
made things rough on himself,
and seemed happier when things didn’t always go so right.
He was also a man who stood up for the little guy.
Nowhere is this best evidenced than in the
Bestor Cram documentary At Folsom Prison,
which goes into great detail
the relationship Cash had with inmate Glen Sherley.
Johnny would likely have departed this earth long before he did,
if not for June Carter, the love of his life.
Otis Blackwell wrote a lyric in 1956,
and not only do the words serve as great advice,
but they were delivered to the world by none other than
the King of Rock & Roll himself...
“Don’t Be Cruel... to a heart that’s true”.
And from a musician who lives closer to home;
the one who’s Gotta Have Pop...
this to what he had to say:
“In the old days,
groupies were called road angels;
back when I was on the road
twelve weeks solid.
And once when I was in Michigan,
I’d had it.
I was living a horrible existence.
Somebody had to write down what city I was in
and put it on my monitor.
Another time,
I opened the window of my hotel room
and didn’t know where I was.
I went to look for a phone book,
but there wasn’t one.
I asked for a local newspaper,
but they sent me the New York Times.
It was pathetic having to call the front desk to ask,
“Can you tell me where I am?”
As it turned out,
I was in Providence, Rhode Island.
The road was horrible.
Then, along comes this girl.
She took me by the hand,
put me in a Volkswagon with my luggage,
took me to her house,
lit candles, bathed me,
and cooked a homemade meal.
But most important of all,
she did my laundry.
She saved my life.
People look down on groupies,
but let me tell you,
if it weren’t for them,
this industry would have been dead long ago.”
~ Bob Segarini (On a Cold Road by Dave Bidini)
Pamela de Barres dedicates
Rock Bottom: Dark Moments in Music Babylon
to the first ever groupie,
Mary Magdalene.

Pamela des Barres website...
http://www.pameladesbarres.net/

Let’s Spend the Night Together:

Confessions of Rock’s Greatest Groupies trailer
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5LHmetqGfgQ

Rodney Bingenheimer ~ Mayor of the Sunset Strip

2010-08-11T05:00:00.000-07:00

Rodney Bingenheimer

Mayor of the Sunset Strip

Live Music Head goes to Los Angeles

by Lisa McDonald

It was the middle of the night

when I first found myself captivated by

a black-clad, spiky-haired, skinny rock and roller.

I couldn’t sleep so I was flipping the television dial,

and stopped when I saw the face of Cher.

I’ve been a fan of the Armenian Cherokee actress ever since

the variety show she did with Sonny in the 70s

(and wishing I could be Chastity).

So I paused,
wanting to hear what Cherilyn Sarkisian had to say.

She was describing Hollywood as

“a place you could go and be different;

not knowing exactly what you’re direction was,

but knowing somehow, something might happen;

things might click, energies might cross.”

As images of an era in music

flashed across the set at the foot of my bed,

I wondered...

“What’s this then?
It appears I haven’t seen some of this before.”

When I realized I was watching the 2003 film about

the quirky, yet influential mainstay in L.A. rock,

I settled in.

And hoped I hadn’t missed too much.

Directed by George Hickenlooper,

the film documents the life and times of
legendary music scenester Rodney Bingenheimer,

nicknamed Mayor of the Sunset Strip by Sal Mineo

(from which the film takes its title).

Bingenheimer was born on a December day in 1947

and grew up in Mountainview, California.

Like a lot of teenagers at the time,

Rodney would visit the local pharmacy to read

Teen Beat, Tiger Beat and Photoplay magazines

(something I did as a teenager as well,

drooling over the glossies of Leif Garrett and the Bay City Rollers,

wishing I could be Lisa Marie Presley).

Elvis Presley gave Rodney Bingenheimer his driver’s license
as a keepsake.

Mackenzie Phillips,

daughter of Papa John and star of One Day at a Time
describes Rodney as “small, shy, and kind of gnome-like.”

The product of divorced parents,

young Rodney inherited Zelda for a stepmom
when father Bing remarried.

But it was his birth mother he was closest to.

Rodney’s mom was known as a celebrity hound;

seeking autographs of the 40s and 50s rich and famous,

Mrs Bingenheimer even got Marilyn Monroe’s autograph.

Rodney would emulate this same behaviour in the 60s and 70s,

although ‘hound’ doesn’t seem the right word to describe him.

Rodney seemed to have a knack for just being in
the right place at the right time.

When Mrs Bingenheimer found out

her son had a crush on actress Connie Stevens,

she dropped Rodney off at the movie star’s house

bidding him a fond, “good luck!”

Many years would pass before he saw his mother again,

but Rodney kept busy by immersing himself in the L.A. arts scene;

auditioning for acting roles and following his passion for music.

With a striking resemblance to both Davy Jones of the Monkees

and Brian Jones of the Rolling Stones,

Rodney appealed to the ladies, and doors opened for him.

“He was a cuddly, lovable guy...

kind of like Mickey Rooney in the movies”, says Kim Fowley.

('an all around controversial human being' - www.myspace.com/realkimfowley).

“All the teenage girls would play mommy to him”.

Sonny and Cher soon took Rodney under their wing

and made him their live-in publicist.

“We never had to wonder about
ulterior motive with him,” says Cher

“He was just a sweet boy, along to absorb and learn”.

There are performance clips of Rodney during this period

rocking out as an audience extra to the likes of Jerry Lee Lewis,

the Mamas and the Papas, and Blondie.

And later in the Cheech and Chong film Up in Smoke,

Rodney can be found as MC in the battle of the bands scene.

And guess who brought Brian Wilson

to the Phil Spector studio while he was working on

Tina Turner’s vocals for River Deep, Mountain High?

Spector wrote a note to Rodney that read...

“Always be good to rock and roll

and it will always be good to you”.

Sounds like great advice, and perhaps it was for Rodney,

but this writer personally finds the advice to be a load of bullshit.

Phil Spector murdered a woman
and now makes his home in jail, gee.

Bingenheimer went on to became fodder for the GTOs

(Girls Together Outrageously),

on an album produced by Frank Zappa, the girl band’s mentor.

And by the end of the 60s,

Capital Records had Rodney doing publicity for Linda Ronstadt

and Mercury Records hired him to promote Rod Stewart.

But growing weary of L.A.,

Rodney decided to re-locate to Britain for a while

to explore London, and it’s glam rock scene.

He was soon revitalized and at the suggestion of David Bowie,

returned to L.A. to open up his very own night club.

Rodney Bingenheimer's English Disco debuted at

7561 Sunset Blvd in October of 1972.

Quickly becoming the hangout for any rock star
travelling through town,

the club also became the hangout for all
the rock star’s female fans;

females who would not waste all their lung power screaming

like the Beatlemaniacs used to do.

This was the Los Angeles of Jim Morrison and the Doors after all,

where “men don’t know, but the little girls understand”.

Top Forty Fuckers is what Dion’s wife called the girls.

(The word groupie had not quite been invented yet.

However, Pamela des Barres of the GTOs

would soon be crowned queen of ‘em).

Alice Cooper says,

“The GTOs were really dedicated to something.

I don’t know what it was, but they were the ultimate groupies.

They had a lot of style”.

Yet upon meeting Rodney, Miss Pamela says,

“He was the first boy I kissed in Hollywood.

He tried to feel me up, but I wouldn’t let him”.

Robert Plant said Rodney Bingenheimer got
more girls than he did, and was more of a sex symbol.
According to Michael des Barres,

the reason for this was

“Rodney had access to so many beautiful women.

With such a posse of pussy

Rodney was as powerful to a rock star as any drug dealer”.

The New York Dolls and The Stooges both
performed at Rodney’s disco before it closed its doors in 1975.

106.7FM hired Rodney as KROQ’s new music guru in '76,

and the program, Rodney on the ROQ

had a lot to do with putting the station on the map.

As a deejay, Rodney would play anything by anyone

“brave or stupid enough to put out a record in Los Angeles”.

He was the first to spin the latest punk release

and the first to introduce emerging bands like

the Runaways, The Ramones, the Go Gos and the B52s;

making or breaking bands the same way

radio personalities Alan Freed and Wolfman Jack used to do.

Ray Manzarek (keyboardist of the Doors) says,

“Rodney tells you when you’re a star”.

Airing every Sunday from midnight to 3,

Rodney on the Roq survives to this day,

and Bingenheimer is one of the few jocks

with autonomy over what he plays.

Rodney is “the gateway to what people care about, less”, says the KROQ guy.

“He’s the soul of the station”.

There’s a fascinating girl in the Mayor of the Sunset Strip;

a long brown-haired girl in a short plaid skirt.

Stunningly beautiful, serious and odd just like Rodney,

she seems suitable to float on his arm.

Nancy 'these-boots-are-made-for-walkin' Sinatra calls Rodney

“a magnet; a pied piper”.

But should we assume Camille is his girlfriend?

When Rodney returns to the home of father Bing

and stepmom Zelda in ‘white picket fence’ suburbia,

he’s a definite stand out.

Zelda has to search for mementos that Rodney

sent home from his glamorous Hollywood life and

these scenes in the film are compelling, endearing

and bittersweet.

I get uncomfortable when Rodney gets uncomfortable

and the camera is shut off.

At his real mother’s house,

a shrine was made of Rodney’s souvenirs.

Soft-spoken with an expressionless face that conveys so much,

a likeness to Andy Warhol comes to mind;

in Rodney’s manner, speech and sense of wonder.

Watching the scattering of his birth mother’s ashes
over English waters, turns me into an emotional mess.

“It’s what she wanted”, he says.

When a Houston-born musician arrives in Hollywood
armed with a hard on for Jennifer Love-Hewitt
and dressed in a space suit,

Rodney does what he can
to help fulfill his dream of a career in music.

Rodney is also a cheerleader for the underdog,
calling himself the “designated driver” between
the famous and the not-so-famous.

The Texas musician’s struggle will tug at your heart strings.

In a make-believe world where everyone wants to be your friend,

Frank Sinatra's daughter says,

“we’re all wary,

a little bit afraid and a little defensive;

because we’ve all been used to a degree.

It’s funny,

we (Rodney and I) can use each other and not mind it at all.

You know what I mean?

In the kindest sense of the word?”

I understand Ms Sinatra.

The realness of their friendship
and the trust between them is obvious.

“Be very cynical, very detached, and let nothing bother you,”

is the advice Kim Fowley offers,

for the survival of all the selfish bastards out there.

Rodney has been photographed with Jimi Hendrix, Bob Dylan,

Elton John, George Harrison and John Lennon.

Since arriving in Los Angeles,

I’ve been caught up in Hollywood and all its magic.

It’s like I’m in a movie.

And when Live Music Head

found herself sitting in the L.A. Canter’s booth

with Rodney Bingenheimer, well

Hollywood really is a place where dreams come true.

I could feel his enthusiasm and passion for music.

And his warmth.

There’s definitely something about this black-clad,

spiky-haired, skinny rock and roller I can relate to.

Just before photos were snapped of us,

Rodney asks, “Is my hair okay?”

Pointing to the plaque commemorating his
patronage to the restaurant,

the inscription says the booth was dedicated to him by Nancy.

“I cried my face off during the documentary Rodney,”
I told him.

I was surprised
when he replied,

“But it wasn’t supposed to make you cry.

That’s not what the film
was meant to do at all.”

Hickenlooper didn’t exactly take the doc

in a direction Bingenheimer totally approved of.

“But Rodney, I was so moved.

And it was all due to your authenticity.”
And his search for love.

The documentary is fantastic, very well produced

and I highly recommend it.

But Rodney seems happiest when talking about music,

so when I told him I saw Peter Frampton in Toronto last week

and that he played a ton of Frampton Comes Alive!,

Rodney’s immediate response was,

“Frampton worked with George Harrison
on the album All Things Must Pass”;

just the way a true rock and roller would respond.

Doors biographer Danny Sugarman says,

“Rodney buys into the rock star myth and

derives a sense of gratitude fulfillment from that energy”.

When asked in the film if he wished his life were different,

Rodney paused

and then quietly said, “yea”.

Something else I can identify with.

Rodney Bingenheimer has been photographed
with Paul McCartney.

Mayor of the Sunset Strip

http://www.allmovie.com/dvd/mayor-of-the-sunset-strip-130009

Rodney on the Roq

http://www.myspace.com/rodneyontheroq

Canter’s

http://www.cantersdeli.com/

Books, songs, family and friendship

2010-08-11T02:22:00.001-07:00

Books, songs, family and friendship
by Lisa McDonald
Live Music Head

Not only do I sing the praises of his 2009 book,
I Am My Father’s Son,
but ever since last February when I had
the honour of interviewing Dan Hill,
(the Canadian author most of us first got to know as
the Sometimes-When-We-Touch guy),
I can now honestly say
I’ve never met a more wonderfully real human being.
The words funny, honest, understanding,
non-judgemental, and caring,
not to mention brilliant writer and storyteller,
all come to mind to describe this Grammy award winning artist.
But recently I discovered I can now add
the word friend to describe Dan Hill.
And at the Toronto Reference Library tonight,
I caught up with my new friend, again.
Published in the year 1960,
the classic novel To Kill a Mockingbird
is now celebrating its 50th anniversary.
As a result,
Dan was invited along with three other panelists
to discuss the impact the Pulitzer Prize-winning novel had
at the time of its release;
and the impact that’s still being felt today.

Harper Lee’s story,
told through the eyes of a child about her family and community,
is also about the kind of courage and compassion it takes
while examining serious subject matters such as
rape, racial inequality, and injustice.
Dan Hill, a mixed child of eleven,
remembers reading the story of 1936
depression-era deep south America,
in the summertime yard of his very white home in
1965 Don Mills, Ontario, Canada.
The panel stimulated much thought and discussion
around a full house inside the gratefully
air conditioned Salon of Bram & Bluma Appel tonight.
But for the folks who couldn’t battle
the week-long heat wave Toronto’s been having to get there,
that’s okay.
Because Dan Hill wrote about what To Kill a Mockingbird
meant to him then, and means to him now
in another brilliantly written article published in last Friday’s Globe and Mail... .
www.theglobeandmail.com/books/a-novel-about-family/article1626778/
Perhaps after you read A Novel About Family,
you’ll be like me and think of a song;
a song that, not unlike To Kill a Mockingbird,
still resonates some decades afterward as well...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q1pMeyy__r0&feature=related

Dan Hill’s office website... danhill.com/

For information on other upcoming events at the Toronto Reference Library, visit the official website...
beta.torontopubliclibrary.ca/programs-and-classes/appel-salon/

Assholery is Alive and Well in Rock and Roll ~ Accept No Substitutes

2010-06-06T19:34:00.000-07:00

Assholery is Alive and Well in Rock & Roll,
Accept No Substitutes
by Lisa McDonald

"The music business is a cruel and shallow money trench,
a long plastic hallway where thieves and pimps run free,
and good men die like dogs.
There's also a negative side." ~ Hunter S Thompson

Despite the years I’ve spent overflowing with high praise
for the outstanding musicianship of
Toronto-based touring outfit
Classic Albums Live,
a select group in the alumni
have recently proved to me that
Assholery is indeed alive and well in Rock and Roll.
And it seems all the heartfelt love and support I gave
the very head of the organization
has only resulted in me being labelled
“a one night stand embarrassment”.
Are you fucking kidding me?
This public denial of me as a human being,
is not only a lie told by someone I deeply cared about,
but this announcement has got to be
THE single most hurtful, insulting and
humiliating lie anyone has ever told about me, ever.
In the two years we were intimately involved,
I never once showed an ounce of
disrespect toward him,
let alone been the cause of any embarrassment.
And if there was any truth to his announcement,
our one night stand would go down as
one of the longest in history.
But there isn't any truth to it.
And I did nothing to deserve his lie.
There are other musicians in this town who don't,
and probably never will work with CAL,
but are kings in Rock and Roll Assholery as well.
Sadly, there's been a few
who've recently surfaced in my life.
One in particular has worn
the Asshole crown for years,
dating back to the 80s, at least.
And he showed me again
just how well he continues to wear it today.
But discarding my support for this particular Asshole
and some others,
comes easier for me because we've never been intimate
and a level of trust never built.
But the head of Classic Albums Live?
He may have left me shaking my head
over his blatant coldness from time to time;
and I could probably add a paragraph or nine
to the book of cruelty
others seem to be writing about him,
but I chose to say nice things instead;
verbally and electronically,
because I wanted to believe.
However,
he really is a self-proclaimed “destroyer of women”,
and he just can't seem to help it.
How stupid of me to think I would be different,
and actually receive the respect from him I deserved.
As for some of the CAL alumni
who twisted the knife and added insult to the lie,
well,
I guess some people will say anything to keep their job.
About my truth, one of them actually said,
"nobody gives a shit".
Perhaps.
But really, where does he get the audacity
to speak for nobody?
And this is how they appreciate people
who've raved about their talents?
Just because I chose to put my heart out there
and explain the reasons why
I can no longer attend shows or be Facebook friends?
Anyone who's familiar with Facebook knows that
it's incredibly easy to find out things on that site
that you're better off not knowing.
By being FB friends with the CAL alumni,
I was seeing and reading things that unbeknownst to them,
hurt me.
But I still spoke of love in my
private message of explanation with them,
before pressing the un-friend key.
And I was treated like trash for it.
My pain turned into gossip fodder.
Why?
I didn't say or write anything bad about them.
I've never said or written anything bad about them or their boss.
So I don't understand the heartlessness.
One thing's for sure,
the respect I previously held for these alumni
quickly and swiftly vanished.
Indifference and unkindness comes far too easy to some folks,
especially when they can show it through a keyboard,
hiding from behind a computer.
Perhaps one day they'll enlighten me by
telling me face to face
why I deserve it.
I welcome the day.
Like the alumni who said that I'm
"just a concertaholic
who writes on the CAL message board".
Yea right, I guess to some, that's all I am.
Even if I was just another bum in the seats,
lining their pockets, contributing to their mortgage payments,
and writing positive reviews
about their performances on the CAL message board,
these are reasons to disregard me like shit?
Musicians who think they're better than everyone else
is Rock and Roll Assholery at its finest.
I was so wrong about them.
I now think of CAL as nothing more than
a bunch of no-name Assholes who treat their fans like shit
while making a living playing other people's music.
Assholes making a living
playing other people's music
should have more gratitude.
In this day and age when performing live is
the only way to really succeed,
gee,
you'd think being nice to your fans
who have always been nice to you,
and promote you in a positive light
would be a complete no-brainer.
Let's reflect on this quote shall we...
“Music bridges the gap between human beings.
We are privileged to be able to do it.” ~ David Crosby
But it's the one driven solely by money
and personal connections that may further his career;
the one with his own agenda and ulterior motives
that hurt me the most.
He knew my heart.
I could never be good enough for such people.
I may be rough enough, but not rich enough.
And not too blind to see.
At the age of 46,
my hopeful rock and roll heart has, once again
been torn, frayed and buried beneath a heaping pile of bullshit.
And in the dictionary,
beside the definition of 'heaping pile of bullshit',
the face of Craig Martin,
the producer of Classic Albums Live,
should be placed large and proud,
but only in one colour,
brown.
For the blood, bone, heart and soul of this Asshole
is made up entirely of and nothing but,
100% low grade shit.
He's an opportunist.
The kind of opportunist who will chew you up, spit you out,
and then stomp all over you in his pursuit of self-servitude.
An opportunist who freely admits that
he can't seem to stop hurting people.
But heaven help me for letting it get me down.
According to him,
I shouldn't complain about how he hurts me.
I should be happy I don't have cancer instead.
In other words,
he thinks he can treat me as shitty as he wants,
and I best be happy and grateful he's in my life at all.
He also told me,
"compared to the long list of women I've ruined,
I've hurt you the least".
Gee, really?
Perhaps if it didn't hurt so much,
I'd be grateful.
"I broke a thousand hearts
before I met you
And I'll break a thousand more
before I'm through"
~ Bad to the Bone, George Thorogood & the Destroyers
Imagine measuring my pain against other women he's hurt!
And I suppose he thinks handing out complimentary
tickets to his shows makes up for the pain he inflicts.
I highly doubt putting on benefits for charity
will keep him from arriving at the gates of hell either.
I am amazed however,
that he keeps his head up,
swimming in such a massive ocean of guilt.
But even now when there's no denying
the ugliness of his true nature,
it's still with enormous regret I have to take back
all the nice things I said about him.
It breaks my heart.
But based on his public denial of me;
of who I was in his life,
his lover,
someone meaningful,
and a decent human being who cared for him,
how can I not?
I opened my door time and again,
to welcome him
when he arrived on my doorstep
looking for strokes to his incredibly large ego.
I was good to him,
and he damn well knows it.
The late night trips I made across town
when he had his kids and couldn't leave the house;
spending time with him when he didn't know if
the mother of his children would outlive her illness.
I was always there when he needed me.
I loved him,
and was always, always, always
completely straight with him.
But Mister Me Gimme Mine won't admit it.
Instead, he calls me
"a one night stand embarrassment".
And I can't imagine why.
In my book,
any man who would lie and call a good woman
a one-night stand embarrassment
speaks volumes about his character... volumes!
So now,
any doubts and suspicions I had are confirmed.
Any alienation I was feeling, complete.
But there were other despicable lies he told,
and I wouldn't be surprised if there are more
I haven't even heard about.
I was always curious how he was portraying me to others,
but because this was a game to him,
I could never get a straight answer.
When the bullshit started to reek too much,
he'd find a way of endearing me to him again,
but that five-word lie is the worst ever.
Congratulations Mr Martin,
for wiping out any goodness we once shared,
and the irreparable damage of your lie.
Perhaps when I'm dead, I'll get over it.
At the next Academy Awards for Assholery,
I'll be sure to nominate you in all categories.
And to think it was his idea
to shake hands on being friends no matter what.
Another lie.
And to think he wonders why
all his relationships turn to shit.
When Assholes use human beings as toilet paper,
what's to wonder about?
But obviously when control freaks lose their power,
lying is the next best course of action.
Why can't men who claim to care,
simply stand up for a woman?
To defend her honour?
To defend the honour of a friend;
a human being?
After all,
I was never asked to stay quiet about our relationship.
Why should single people do that?
Being quiet was never discussed between us, ever.
Keeping details of our relationship private was, for me,
initially out of respect for his children.
I mean really,
how many women will a man parade
through the lives of his children?
And then it was simply a matter of patience;
waiting for him to be a man, and stand up for me.
In retrospect,
I see that his need for privacy was simply
a necessity in order to behave badly;
a cover to support his deceit.
One of the last things I said to him was
"I feel like I'm seeing a married man".
His response?
"But I'm single".
He also went on to say,
"I would never do anything to hurt you".
And I quote Martin Sheen...
"The bullshit piled up so high,
you needed wings to stay above it" ~ Apocalypse Now
To think I would have stood up for him in a heartbeat.
But clearly, I'm a bigger man than he is.
In the words of local R&B musician Erin Hunt...
"Somewhere there's a man who believes in the woman that I am
Hard to find in a world full of people
who aren't half the man I am".
In today's sick society,
rudeness, selfishness, disrespect and deceitfulness
run rampant.
Unfortunately I now have a hard time believing anything
he's ever told me.
And what a devastating blow,
shredding the hell out of the wee bits of trust and faith
I was naively holding on to.
I really, really, really wanted to believe;
to believe in his humanity.
His lie has crushed me.
But I guess this type of behaviour is fitting.
We live in a throw away society,
and it applies to people too.
Why fix the television, dvd player,
refrigerator or washing machine
when its easier to throw it away
and go out and buy a new one?
Seems to me we still live inside the
1990s sitcom that popularized this behaviour.
Along with most of North America,
I too laughed along to the antics of
Jerry, Elaine, George and Kramer, sure.
And I can't tell you how many times I've heard,
"you remind me so much of Elaine Benis".
But is that a good thing or a bad thing?
Because after several years of indifference
toward their fellow man,
where did the writers of the Seinfeld series finale
ultimately put this lovable ensemble cast of characters?
Behind bars, that's where.
Guilty of crimes against humanity.
To his credit,
he did say he could never be
the man I hoped he could be.
An understatement to say the least,
bold and double underlined.
Yet saying it doesn't make it all okay.
Unsolicited advice from another CAL alumni told me
I should simply, "grow up".
What, to be an uncaring Asshole like him?
But the best alumni response of all came when I asked a man
"how could he say these things about me?"
Reply: "because he's a guy".
Ah, I suppose that explains everything.
No wonder there's anti-depressant commercials
on television every five minutes
and most of the population takes them,
or so it seems.
Ask the next person you know if they're on meds,
or if they know someone who is.
Recently I came across this statement:
"In the 60s
people took acid to make the world weird.
Now the world is weird
and people take Prozac to make it normal".
I personally know two people who were admitted
to the suicide ward over the past month,
due to similar shades and textures of bullshit.
But I'm still here,
a coal miner's granddaughter,
so fuck you.
I've hesitated placing blame on another person
for why I'm down on humanity,
but I've recently come to admit,
this Asshole and the relationship I had with him
has contributed greatly to the depression I've been in.
It became so crystal clear just how
unworthy of him he considers me.
While I was still in the relationship,
I tried anti-depressants.
And believe it or not, it was at his prompting.
Anything to take the pressure off himself I guess.
But aside from the average amounts of
psychedelics, pot and booze that I ingested back in my party days,
I've taken the natural health care route for most of my life.
So I discarded the happy pills band-aid solution
and went for a good dose of the truth instead.
Another quote I recently came across...
"Before you diagnose yourself with depression or low self-esteem,
first make sure that you are not, in fact,
just surrounded by assholes."
~ William Gibson
I anticipate struggling with the affect of Craig Martin's lies
for some time to come,
so I just keep reminding myself
it's not that I'm not good enough for him,
but he's nowhere good enough for me.
Not as a muse, mentor, friend,
business reference, or lover.
Not even as an acquaintance.
Because he cannot be trusted.
And I mean trusted in the most essential way;
fundamental trust.
Certain people may be horrified to know
some of the things he's said about them.
Not only should he not speak
so poorly about certain people around me,
but he should never speak
such shit about people, period.
The only thing I can be accused of here is being honest.
And it's unfortunate if being truthful frightens people so much,
but I never suggested to him or anyone
that I'd be anything but.
I have nothing to hide.
And no amount of concert tickets,
letters of recommendation,
votes of confidence for my writing,
or hot booty calls
could possibly make up for the complete disregard for
good old fashioned trust, honour, truth and respect.
And I have to hand it to him;
his opportunistic feelers were right on the bloody mark,
as far as knowing exactly what would humiliate me the most.
He couldn't have found a better way to hurt me
had he come over here with a chainsaw
and hacked off both my arms and legs.
Because he knows as well as anyone
how important the truth is to me.
Big shiny gold star for him.
And by virtue of this blog,
he's also succeeded in causing me to lower my standards
to the grade school level his are clearly at.
I guess I should have known,
being he once insisted on pulling me into
his grade school gossip by implying I was in cahoots
with a mutual friend who,
allegedly sent him flirtatious emails.
I thought, "How the fuck old are you again?"
And I'm told to grow up?
I really can't stand a man who gossips.
And to implicate me, only enraged me.
With no fear of confrontation,
I decided to telephone the emailer myself.
But unfortunately,
I couldn't hold back my anger
and I came out looking like the bad guy.
And he did nothing to defend me of course.
In retrospect,
it was likely due to being just another lie in the first place.
But what's worse,
after years of sharing very personal emails with this man
(and I've kept all the emails we've shared),
he neglected to inform me when he decided to give
his mother access to his private email account.
I do recall him telling me he's a mama's boy,
but what the fuck kind of man,
who leads the promiscuous life he does,
gives his mother access to his private email?
Needless to say,
I was very surprised to learn I was suddenly being read
by someone other than him.
More fucking deceit.
But more than that,
what kind of people reply to emails
that they know are not sent to them?
Does the arrogance run that deep in the family
that this form of communication is acceptable on their part?
Now, I stand by every single solitary word I've ever typed,
and I'm not embarrassed in the least
if a million other people, besides the one it is meant for,
has read them,
and regardless of how private they may have been.
It's being deceived by him and his lot that sickens me.
And the fact that they make me out to be the one at fault.
But why should I be surprised?
The Asshole clearly gets off being the great pretender.
Craig Martin has posted comments under different aliases
on the CAL website's message board.
And I was disgusted when he told me about it.
But the particular lie that is the main subject in this writing
is what compelled me to defend myself with this blog.
The horror I feel over my own stupidity
for ever believing in him is overwhelming.
After all this time,
it's difficult to come to terms with the fact
my friendship was never something he valued.
I question whether he has any values at all.
If he did,
he would never ever, ever, EVER have lied
and called me
"a one night stand embarrassment".
Or had the bloody nerve to call me ungrateful.
He's the one who's ungrateful.
And another thing about deceitful online communication,
I also have reason to suspect I've been read by Craig's sister.
Tracy sent me a lovely email one day to say
how much I'd embarrassed the entire Martin family.
Hmmm,
gee,
speaking from my heart about love is that embarrassing?
I'd give up all of my internal organs in a bet
that Tracy Martin
never once stopped to consider, not once,
the pain and humiliation my family and friends felt.
I know Craig certainly never once stopped to consider this.
I always raved about him.
I told my mother and father,
and my siblings how great he was.
Not to mention how fantastic the Classic Albums Live series was,
sometimes purchasing slews of tickets from Ticketmaster
to ensure my friends came.
But thanks to Craig Martin's email lie,
my mother, my father, my sisters and brothers,
and my friends,
now know this same man,
as the Asshole who took the time to
constructively think, and type out words
to describe me as "some people",
"someone who's gone off her meds",
and someone he considers his "one-night stand embarrassment".
And by also taking the time to select a number of people
from his electronic contact list to send this lie to,
speaks to the fact that this was no accident.
It wasn't like he stupidly blurted out such a viscous lie
verbally
for some ridiculous reason,
and then regretted it.
No, absolutely not.
That would have been bad enough.
The Asshole sat down and prepared his wicked lie
deliberately, and very, very carefully.
He took the time to cross his t's and dot his i's.
But he made the mistake
(or maybe it wasn't a mistake)
of not using the "bcc" feature.
So when the lovely lie was forwarded and arrived in my inbox,
I got to see all the folks the Asshole sent it to.
And I've not been the same person since.
This big-shot-wannabe rock star Asshole
has been treating people like shit
while having his cake and eating it too,
with lord knows how many dozen flavours
on both sides of the border,
for far too long.
You can be sure if I had pals in the Mafia,
I would have sent them to his house long ago
not only to ram his peace and prosperity
so far up his ass that he choked on them,
but to ensure he never typed another email again
by breaking every single finger on both of his hands.
Assholes that need so many women in their lives
must really be, at the heart of it,
unbelievably insecure.
But fuck,
stop lying about it!
But I guess he's read all the books about
how to be a Rock and Roll Asshole.
There's only been a few thousands of them
published over the years
with pages and pages of the same bullshit.
According to her book,
George Harrison called Pattie Boyd to ask
if she wouldn't mind not coming home.
You see, he'd met a new plaything,
but he'd likely be done with her in a couple months,
at which point he'd be happy to trash the toy
and welcome his wife home again.
Should Pattie be upset, or grateful instead?
After all, George wrote Something about her.
And don't get me started on
Cynthia Lennon's book about John.
He may be my all-time favourite Beatle,
he wrote In My Life after all,
but I don't doubt for a millisecond
the Assholery he put his first wife through,
or his second one for that matter.
If this excerpt doesn't say it all,
I just don't know about it...
“I never stopped loving John,
but the cost of that love has been enormous.
Someone asked me recently whether,
if I’d known at the beginning what lay ahead,
would I have gone through with it.
I had to say no.
Of course I could never regret having my wonderful son.
But the truth is that,
if I’d known as a teenager
what falling for John Lennon would lead to,
I would have turned around right then, and walked away.”
~ Cynthia Lennon 2005
I cried my eyes out.
At least Lennon had the guts
to more than occasionally admit his Assholery in the press.
These are stories from long ago,
yet they so easily could've been written today.
Outside of the rock and roll world,
President Bill Clinton may have been married,
but look at the fool he made of himself by lying about his affairs.
And he may never have confessed if not for the blackmailer,
but David Letterman's response to it
was far better received, I think.
Perhaps the head of Classic Assholes Live is
a compulsive and pathological liar.
These types of people will resort to telling lies,
regardless of the situation.
They lie out of simple habit.
It's routine for them, a way of life.
And apparently sociopaths cannot be changed.
My advice to all the liars out there...
if you really are so incapable of telling the truth,
at least have the decency to say nothing at all.
Manipulating good people to suit his own needs
is prob'ly Craig Martin's greatest strength.
But it's too bad he doesn't see that
his actions have consequences
and that he does not grasp the meaning of accountability.
Rumour has it he went on a rampage
trying to find out who alerted me to his lie.
Like that's the issue.
What an Asshole;
a colossal Asshole.
But it's just like him though,
to be more concerned over who betrayed him,
rather than moving mountains in apology for betraying me.
Not that I would accept his apology.
The lie; the betrayal
should never have happened in the first place,
and no excuse could possibly justify it.
Besides,
in his arrogance
he believes this is all my fault.
How could the producer of such a great music series
be the one with the problem?
But perhaps it is my fault.
Because one of the first things he ever told me was
"you won't get any bullshit from me".
And I believed him.
But no worries,
I won't be sharing details of our sexual exploits
or any pillow talk.
I'd sooner flip the pencil 'round
and erase all memory of it.
Craig Martin is not only a liar,
he's a phony, a coward,
and an absolute disgrace for a human being.
I may be an utter fool for
giving him my heart and ever hoping, or wanting
a lifelong friendship,
but if anyone thinks I'm outspoken on line,
I'm a hell of a lot moreso face to face.
When the Asshole's name or the mere mention of
Classic Albums Live
ever comes up around me,
I'm afraid I will never again be saying anything nice or positive.
Far, far, far from it.
The pain deepens however...
because I will never see another CAL show.
And for an enormous classic rock fan such as I,
it's simply unforgivable.
Anyone who knows me will tell you,
I was drawn to the CAL community from the get-go.
I loved it.
I loved it.
I fucking loved it.
Rounding up friends since 2003,
they would hoot and holler alongside me from
the centre floor at the Phoenix Concert Theatre
at almost every show.
As a writer,
I posted numerous reviews
and positive reports of the shows all over the world wide web,
promoting the series thru my social media skills,
and I also had a number of alumni
on my “to ask” list for interviews.
CAL was just beginning to tap into the great creative potential
that lurks inside me, ever so close to the surface.
It's why it hurts so bloody much.
Because it's not just about some guy who hurt me.
I loved the music first and foremost
and being the person I am,
why wouldn't I welcome it and him into my heart?
My love and passion runs deep.
I was in awe of the ones who played the music so perfectly,
and I had so much respect for the one who founded it.
In retrospect,
my alienation from the music began
the very second I got intimately involved with Martin.
I was bullied and kept his dirty little secret,
and it may have took some years to finally realize and admit it,
but my conscience can't live with anything built
on this many lies.
All hope is now squashed
of ever being part of the music again
and it's a hurt that cuts on many, many levels.
Unlike when you're young,
deep wounds at this stage in life
have the potential of never healing.
But as I carry on without a comma
I suppose I'll pine for the days
when I was totally oblivious
to all the behind the scenes bullshit;
when it was just the music I loved.
And I'll keep reminding myself
that I was completely genuine
in my feelings about him, the music
and all the CAL talent who made the shows happen.
But when it comes to
classic rock and stellar musicianship,
I won’t be denying myself
from experiencing it elsewhere.
Because I,
Live Music Head,
still knows where the fuck it’s at.

This great clip is for all
the lyin' cheating asshole bastards out there...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=67ht1Hihjis

And as for all the real men, well,
you don’t have to be told what kind of man
every woman wants, do you?
But no one sings about this man
with more passion or more soul than,
The Rose...
(one of the best female vocal performances of all time
and a film every music fan must see)
http://www.dailymotion.com/video/x5mjya_bette-midler-when-a-man-loves-a-wom_music

Back in the 1970s,
I was exposed to Frank Zappa and the Mothers of Invention
for the first time
when the soon-to-become-classic album,
Overnite Sensation
came blasting from the car stereo
inside my brother’s souped up 1968 Ford Torino.
Then on Aug 15, 1984,
I was fortunate enough to see Mr Zappa perform live
at Toronto’s CNE Grandstand.
But Frank Zappa is dead.
And it’s up to cover bands to keep his music alive;
great cover bands like Project/Object,
who gave me fond memories
back in the 90s at the Tralf in Buffalo,
when Zappa alumni Ike Willis told us,
“I’m gonna buy me a horse, just about this big...”
In more recent years,
the show to remember was Steve Vai and Terry Bozzio
joining Dweezil Zappa (Frank's first born son)
and Zappa Plays Zappa at the Hummingbird Centre.
I stood proudly with the rest of the sold out
Toronto audience, showing our appreciation
by giving the band a standing ovation after every song.
After every f&^king song!
Now perhaps there’s just as much Rock and Roll Assholery
in Zappa’s neck of the woods,
but fortunately I haven’t been, nor plan to be
intimately involved with any of them.
I'm quite happy to be just another bum in their seats.
Fortunately CAL doesn’t cover classic albums by Frank Zappa
note for note, cut for cut, or otherwise.
But when it comes to covering classic records like
Overnite Sensation,
it doesn’t get any better than Dweezil Zappa and his band anyways.
And the album is so obviously about sex,
my favourite.
So you can imagine my depression lifting
and excitement taking over,
as I look down upon the ticket I hold in my hand;
the ticket that gets me into the Rapids Theatre in Niagara Falls NY
to see Zappa Plays Zappa again,
when they take the stage on June 29, twenty ten.
I plan to be standing front and centre
hootin’ and a-hollerin’ alongside the same brother who
no longer has that souped-up 1968 Ford Torino.
And because on this day back in 1960,
music transcriptionist, guitarist extraordinaire,
and Zappa alumni Steve Vai was born,
I’m re-visiting the totally awesome video clip
that rates high in my Top 5.
Yes, today has been a good day.
Click on the link to watch the band play Zomby Woof,
and Mr Vai step up around the 2.40 mark
to deliver a most blistering solo that blows the f&^king mind.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7xcoHA33mH8

Zappa Plays Zappa ~ Accept No Substitutes
by Lisa McDonald
published at Factoidz
July 3, 2010
http://factoidz.com/zappa-plays-zappa-rapids-theatre/

Get Along Home Cindy ~ The Cameron House

2010-05-09T09:06:00.000-07:00

Get Along Home Cindy
The Cameron House
May 1, 2010
By Lisa McDonald

How am I gonna squeeze through this crowd
and not spill beer on Dwight’s head?
The farewell party at The Cameron House
is full under way, and jam packed.
Cindy Matthews,
manager of Paradise, is leaving
and a Cosmo is taking over.
But for the last 12 years,
many have known Cousin Cindy for
playing washboard and singing like a songbird
with the house band, the Cameron Family Singers.
And having played the front room of
this Queen St Public House
every Saturday afternoon at 6,
has garnered them quite a following.
Today is May Day 2010,
and most of Toronto’s finest
have come out to celebrate and share the stage.
For starters,
I spot a Colonel of the Backstabbers kind
playing mandolin and Sometimes She Forgets.
And he may not be the Easy Rider from Hollywood,
but Jack Nicholsen still can’t help telling us
they’re gonna put him in the movies.
Cousins Booth and Coopersmith are the upstairs fiddlers,
and ridin’ the pony of a bass playin’ Tony,
is a Ferarra musical saw.
I spy Clive,
the swing dance guy,
and Whoa, Nellie!
Vera is Johnny-less in hot red pants!
And when Cousin Kevin moves from piano to upright bass,
I’m So Lonesome I Could Cry.
But I don’t.
Despite the cloths
passed over head to wipe up the mess,
I’m leaving the sobbin’ to Metrault from Rancho Misterio.
Under Benattar boots,
Cousin Chip plays penny whistle and
Burt is a pedal steel.
And it looks like the river Cimmeron
will overflow the jug once again.
But where are those Tumblin’ Tumbleweeds?
David Baxter waits in the wings for
Stahl to finish Pickin’ Little Jimmy’s Chickin’.
And Screamin’ Sam wipes the cheese grater,
with a side order of Zappa on Walton’s Mountain.
Gee, that went down well with a Mill Street Organic.
Sue is the Angel of the Morning,
and how can anyone not notice Tanya’s dress?
Justin Rutledge and Corin Raymond have a stab at the stage
and you know,
not only does Toronto have the best musicians,
but most of ‘em are here, right now
under Sybil’s painted ceiling.
And that includes the boy bassist,
(the one now singing about Ophelia)
Wasn’t he the same kid who
gave us every inch of his Zeppelin love at another party?
By the Time I Get to Phoenix,
Nigel is a tuba and St Dirt, a drummer.
Look out Waitsish banjos,
Jack Black’s gonna give you a Run With the Kittens!
But the highlight of the festivities came
just before Ghost Riders in the Sky arrived.
I tell ya,
A Song for You ripped my heart to shreds.
The great Leon Russell penned tune that
I got familiar with via Willie Nelson,
was delivered with such soul,
I lost the struggle to keep the tears at bay.
I can thank the one who played Stompin’ Tom for that.
Standing beside Mr Quain as he tinkles the same
piano His Purpleness played,
I’m really gonna miss these cousins.
After all, they play real country music.
But being covered in cockroaches shouldn’t stop ‘em.
I suspect Cosmo will continue the musical charm of
Toronto’s original artmusictheatrebar for some time to come.
But for now,
the entire room is not too cool to wave, Cindy...
Good luck and “so long saddle pals!”

The Cameron Family Singers on Myspace
http://www.myspace.com/cameronfamilysingers

The Cameron House
http://www.thecameron.com/

The Kings of Songwriting ~ Canadian Music Week

2010-03-17T08:30:00.000-07:00

Kings of Songwriting
Keynote - Paul Williams
Moderator - Ralph Murphy, VP Int’l & Domestic Membership ASCAP, Nashville
Co-moderator - John Alexander, Publishing Consultant
Host - Jeremy Silver, owner Media Clarity
Participants - Dan Hill, Don Shlitz, Cindy Gomez and Dave Stewart
Canadian Music Week
Concert Hall, Royal York Hotel, Toronto
March 13, 2010
By Lisa McDonald

Their genres may vary, but this panel of songwriters
all share one common thing –
they continue to write hit after hit.
Although different musical styles demand different approaches
to performing and recording,
a well-written song is a well-written song,
whether it’s a country rave-up,
an infectious pop standard, or a rock anthem.
These chartbusting writers will explore
the common ground all great songs must share.
~ Canadian Music Week

Dave Stewart just brushed elbows with me
as he and Cindy Gomez entered the Concert Hall.
My god, Cindy Gomez is stunning.
And what a bitch for having like, a 12 inch waist!
I would think Gomez’s appearance here today
is simply as Stewart’s latest protégé.
Because although this Colombian and Belgian beauty
(who hails from my home town of Mississauga)
most certainly has talent,
I hardly think she’s been around long enough
to qualify as a Queen, let alone King of Songwriting.
Gomez, however, was the first artist to make
her debut in a mobile game called
Dance Fabulous on N-Gage by Nokia.
But Cindy’s big break came when
Stewart and Ringo Starr appeared on Larry King Live
and put out the call for a backup singer.
Gomez answered the call and impressed Stewart right away.
“She needed no rehearsal at all,” Stewart said.
“It became clear she could make up melodies very easily.
And because she learned to sing in several different languages,
she’s able to flip into other ways of thinking, melodically.”
Gomez can sing in eight different languages.
Well, I may not have been awarded the Dave Stewart interview,
but it’s cool to be at the top of the line waiting to hear him talk.
Dave Stewart is a not only a song writer but
a renowned producer, writer, advertising director,
industrialist, visionary and was recently added to the list of the
100 Most Creative Persons in Business
by Fast Company Magazine.
And oh yea, he’s also that guy who played guitar alongside
Annie Lennox in the 1980s band, the Eurythmics.
After attending a few CMW conferences already this week,
it’s evident there’s more than a few artists here with bios so long,
moderators can’t list them all in their introductions.
If they did,
the conference would be over before it began.
Well, I have the time.
And I plan to list as many of the accomplishments of these
Kings of Songwriters as I can, right here.
After 25 years, Dave Stewart has had
album sales of more than 100 million,
and he, along with Annie Lennox, gave us the songs
Here Comes the Rain Again and Sweet Dreams (Are Made Of This).
Stewart continues to be the most
sought-after writer and producer,
and has collaborated with the likes of Bono, Bryan Ferry,
Sinead O’Connor and Ringo Starr.
Stewart also produced Starr’s recent record, Liverpool 8.
Mr Stewart co-wrote and played on
Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers’,
Don't Come Around Here No More.
And Bob Dylan calls Stewart, "a fearless innovator".
Stewart himself cites his strength as,
“my ability to coax personal stories from my co-writers”.
Mr Stewart has shared stages with BB King, U2, Eric Clapton,
Bruce Springsteen, Mick Jagger and Dylan himself.
Having won Best British Producer four times,
Best British Songwriter five times and numerous
Grammy, MTV and European awards, Dave Stewart
also scored films for directors including Robert Altman.
He collaborated on the 1991 documentary,
Deep Blues: A Musical Pilgrimage to the Crossroads and
together with Mick Jagger, wrote and produced
the score for Alfie, starring Jude Law.
In 2004, he wrote the musical Barbarella, based on the 1968 film.
And again with Jagger and Daryl Hall, co-wrote
the theme song for the comedy film, Ruthless People.
Stewart is also the interviewer for Off the Record on HBO.
As an entrepreneur,
Stewart has worked with Microsoft to create the
multi-media creative center, The Hospital
and with Deepak Chopra on the creative consultancy, Deep Stew.
Stewart established a media company,
Weapons of Mass Entertainment,
which links creative ideas to film, television,
books, theatre and new media.
And speaking of books, Stewart also created the comics
Walk-In, Zombie Broadway, and is currently set to release
The Business Playground:
Where Creativity and Commerce Collide,
“an innovative business book designed to show
business people how to rediscover their creativity”.
Stewart has held the title of Change Agent for Nokia,
the world's largest mobile phone company where he
“connects companies to talent, opportunities and ideas
for new distribution models heading into the
next generation of the entertainment business”, and
in 2002, former South African president Nelson Mandela
gave Stewart his prison number 466/64 to use
in a series of concerts which helped raise money
for the Nelson Mandela Foundation.
And then there’s his band Platinum Weird,
which is rumoured to have started in the 70s,
but according to Stewart, the group actually formed in 2004.
Rock Legends, a 2006 mockumentary examines Platinum Weird
with cameo appearances by Jagger, Lennox, Starr,
and the great singer-songwriter we all know as, Elton John.
Unfortunately I missed Stewart’s keynote address on Friday
where he imparted his words of wisdom to CMW delegates.
Besides Gomez, there is another Canadian on this panel;
the multi-talented singer-songwriter, Dan Hill.
Dan Hill is a Toronto boy, born the eldest son to
social scientist and “father of civil rights”, Daniel G Hill.
Dan is also the brother of author, Lawrence Hill,
who wrote the critically acclaimed, Book of Negroes.
Collaborating with legendary songwriter, Barry Mann,
Dan Hill released the ballad, Sometimes When We Touch in 1977.
And following the release of this record, came enormous success.
It got Dan appearances on television shows such as
Merv Griffen and Mike Douglas
and Dan’s career has never been the same since.
He’s been writing songs for artists like
Celine Dion and George Benson.
Hill also provided the song, It’s a Long Road
for the 1982 film, First Blood,
otherwise known as Rambo, starring Sylvester Stallone.
And in 1985, Hill was one of many Canadian performers
to appear on the benefit single
Tears Are Not Enough by Northern Lights.
Hill also grew up with lifelong friend,
Canadian musician and author, Paul Quarrington.
Not only did the two perform together as a folk music duo,
but collaborated on the song Are You Ready
just ten days before Quarrington's death in early 2010.
And Dan’s book, I Am My Father’s Son,
a Memoir of Love and Forgiveness,
has got to be one of the best bound book of pages I’ve ever read.
I heard Dan’s sound check a short time ago and
I kid you not, his incredible and unmistakable voice
resonated through the entire Royal York Hotel.
Don Shlitz is a Grammy and ASCAP award winning
country music songwriter and member of the
Nashville Songwriters Hall of Fame.
Schlitz's first hit as a songwriter came with The Gambler,
a 1978 signature song for country artist Kenny Rogers.
Schlitz has penned several songs for artists,
amoung them, Randy Travis and Keith Whitley.
Former US President George W Bush commissioned Schlitz
to write a theme song for his Points of Light program and
the song was a huge success for Travis in 1991.
I must admit, I’m not all that familiar with Shlitz but
how can I not know The Gambler?
“You got to know when to hold 'em, know when to fold 'em,
Know when to walk away and know when to run.
You never count your money when you're sittin' at the table.
There'll be time enough for countin’ , when the dealin's done.”
Now I’ve come to the Keynote of this event.
You may want to grab a meal and a couple of drinks
to read this list of accomplishments.
For Grammy and Golden Globe award winner and Hall of Famer
Paul Williams, is responsible for writing hit songs
such as Old Fashioned Love Song (Three Dog Night),
We’ve Only Just Begun and
Rainy Days and Mondays (The Carpenters),
and he’s the Best Song Oscar-winner for Evergreen,
sung by Barbra Steisand in the 1976 film, A Star is Born.
And here he is now, walking straight toward me!
Paul turns to give me a warm smile as I say, “Hello, Mr Williams”.
One of the few artists I’ve come this close to where
I didn’t have to strain my neck to look him in the eye.
A prolific writer whose songs have been recorded by
Willie Nelson, Elvis Presley, Frank Sinatra, Ella Fitgerald,
David Bowie, Ray Charles and Tony Bennett, among others.
Mr Williams also wrote the music for the film Bugsy Malone and
Phantom of the Paradise, for which he also starred.
My favourite acting role of Paul Williams?
Well, that would have to be Virgil,
the genius orangutan in the 1973 film,
Battle for the Planet of the Apes.
I clearly remember sitting in the Sheridan Mall cinema
booing the humans and cheering for the apes.
Williams also played Little Enos Burdette
in Smokey and the Bandit I, II and III.
And in the 90s,
Williams played Andy Warhol’s PR guy
in the Oliver Stone film, The Doors.
Paul worked closely with Jim Henson
on the soundtrack of the Muppet Movie,
and while growing up, I saw Williams
make numerous guest appearances on television shows
such as Hawaii Five-O, The Odd Couple, The Gong Show,
the cop show, Baretta (who I was totally in love with),
Police Woman and Fantasy Island.
I also hear Paul made an appearance on Star Trek: Voyager.
And let’s not forget all the game shows he appeared on...
Password, Match Game, Hollywood Squares
and Win, Lose or Draw.
Not to mention the variety shows with
Carol Burnett and Flip Wilson.
Paul Williams also served as co-host of Solid Gold
and graced us with his presence on every 70s music fan’s
favourite shows, the Midnight Special and American Bandstand.
Williams even provided the voice of
The Penguin in Batman: The Animated Series.
Paul’s current projects are Happy Days, the New Musical
and Emmet Otter's Jugband Christmas.
Hell,
Paul Williams is also the current President & Chairman of ASCAP
(the American Society of Composers, Authors and Publishers).
The doors of the Concert Hall are now opening and as we
enter, we’re greeted by a large beautiful room.
Perhaps not as beautiful as the hotel’s Ballroom but,
gosh, golly gee, Paul Williams is standing at the podium,
and ya know,
he looks exactly the same as he always has, at least to me.
But you’d think the organizer’s could have lowered the stand.
No one can really see Paul from the neck down.
Good heartedly,
Williams cracks a few jokes about his short stature.
Joining me at our big round table are Lou Pomanti,
the musical director of the Canadian Songwriter’s Hall of Fame,
who I not only saw do a fine job on
the CMW Producer’s Panel earlier in the day,
but I also had the honour of interviewing him in late 2009
where we talked extensively about his own illustrious career.
And David Joseph, who is very excited to see Don Shlitz.
As a man who’s struggled with addictions, Paul Williams begins
to tell us of a time he went to Ochos Rios, Jamaica.
“I went there to work and write songs, substance-free.
But you know what?
All I ended up doing was re-writing
Little Town of Bethlehem!
So, following a few rum and cokes,
I decided to saunter over to Bob Marley’s grave where
I began to explain reggae music to a whole bunch of black people!
But, back to sobriety...”
Williams had the audience laughing along with his every word.
“The Moral Right is when you’re commissioned
to do a piece of art, and the integrity stays with the artist.
An example would be right here in your own city of Toronto.
The art?
That would be the geese that hang down from
the ceiling of the Eaton’s Centre.
When it was the time of the season,
the owner’s of this Toronto landmark wanted to
hang Christmas decorations all over the art.
Tony Snow, the artist, gave a definite, “no!”
It was taken to court and thank god,
the judge ruled in the artist’s favour.”
Paul went on to caution users of new media
and social networking tools.
“You can easily give away your best stuff on Twitter.
We have big ethic problems with the internet
and we must find a creative way to work with it.
But the public needs to remember,
our art is our gift to the audience, but it’s also
our work and our livelihood.”
Williams took his seat on the panel,
to cheering and much applause.
Greg Simpson introduces Ralph Murphy
and John Alexander as the panel’s moderators
who then bring to the stage,
Cindy Gomez and Dave Stewart
followed by Don Schlitz.
And Dan Hill, who starts off with
a story about playing a song for his dying father.
I Am My Father’s Son is also a song.
A song packed with emotion, and brings the audience in.
Tears fell from the corners of many an eye,
including at least one of Dan’s.
At the end of the song,
Don Shlitz says, “I have to follow that?!”
which offered much needed comic relief.
It was nice to see the big smile spread across
the face of David Joseph, when Shlitz played
The Gambler, the way the songster wrote it.
It was a little different than the Kenny Rogers version.
And then it was Stewart’s turn.
Stewart says he’s gotten used to writing for females
with big voices; and I was clearly missing one of ‘em
when Dave tried to sing Sweet Dreams.
Perhaps he knew it because he stopped before he
even got started and proceeded to sing us only
“snatches” of songs he’s written.
Snatches, Dave?
“You know,
when Annie and I were living together as a couple,
we never wrote a single song.
But when we broke up, we wrote 270 songs about it.”
The audience erupts in laughter, including
Lou Pomanti, who I heard belly laughs coming from,
throughout the whole presentation.
As Stewart tells us of how much he enjoys
wasting money on peculiar instruments he finds in music shops,
I’m busy noticing the fella who’s taken a seat
at the piano bench next to Paul Williams.
He certainly looks a whole lot like Johnny B,
the road manager and bass player for
Classic Albums Live.
But that can’t be.
I guess even sitting this close to the stage,
it’s become clear.
I really do need to fill that prescription for new glasses.
Paul sang the Rainbow song
and then it was back to Dan Hill.
Mr Hill, when he was first starting out,
“always thought that good song writing
came from sexual torment”,
until he met Barry Mann and learned how to collaborate.
The panellists were doing a fine job of
educating and entertaining the 400 or so
people jammed into the Concert Hall.
And from Don Schlitz,
“if I’d known long ago I’d be sitting up here
on this stage today, I'd have taken better care of myself!
And since I haven’t yet reached the 30 million mark,
I have a new recording available at CD Baby and it’s only $9.99.
We thought asking people for ten bucks was just too much.
And guess what?
I already sold two! And one in Japan!”
Dave Stewart told about playing a pub in England
around the time he was first starting out.
“Just as I was in the middle of singing
a Bob Dylan song with my eyes closed,
sounding great too, I might add,
a fellow taps me on the arm...
‘I have to catch a bus and this song is taking too long.
I thought I’d let you know before
you opened your eyes to find no one here’”.
Stewart also mentioned writing
the music for the film, Charlotte’s Web.
That story was a childhood favourite of mine.
Dave says, “great collaboration is when you find
someone who is totally brilliant to work with,
and then you don’t say anything.”
Williams is looking toward Stewart
when Dave says, “just a bit longer Paul;
they’re only “snatches” after all.”
To which Williams replies,
“No worries Dave, but I plan on doing 7!”
And when Williams took the mike and sang,
“We've only just begun... to live,
White lace and promises
A kiss for luck and we're on our way...“
He has us all in the palm of his hand.
And to the singer who made the song famous,
Paul said,“Having someone like
Karen Carpenter sing your songs.... sigh.
Karen would have been 60”.
Williams also sang Evergreen.
And like it or not rock fans,
these songs are so well-structured,
they will stand the test of time for eternity.
And as a journalist, I’ve come to realize yet again,
I can always count on the “old timers” for my material.
I was so stimulated by the humour
and talents of these Kings of Songwriters that,
it didn’t seem to matter I’ve had to pee since noon and it’s now 3;
as I scribble notes on every little piece of paper I can find.
Dan sang Sometimes When We Touch at the piano
and his 55 year old voice sounds just as good
as when he sang it at 19.
Stewart with his cool dark shades and gangster hat
followed it with a story about the first time he arrived in L.A.
And to a party at Stevie Nick’s house, he was whisked away.
“But once there, everyone went to the bathroom
and didn’t come out for five hours”.
I believe Stewart recently worked with Nicks
and it’s rumoured they’ll tour together at some point.
Cindy Gomez sang a bit but
she basically sat there smiling most of the time.
Dave played Don’t Come Around Here No More.
And then it seems we’ve come to the end.
The Keynote finishes it off.
“This last song is the one that put my kids through school...”
A little piano intro and then...
“Love....
Exciting and new.
Come on board, we’re expecting you!
And love...
Life’s sweetest reward
Let it flow, it flows back to you!
The Love Boat!”
The audience goes nuts.
For the love of god, Williams wrote this song too?!
Originally sung by American jazz and pop singer, Jack Jones,
the television theme is timeless.
And the best line of the entire event, of the whole entire week
is now delivered by Paul Williams when he leans toward
Dave Stewart, and while still singing the Love Boat theme
pauses to say...
“jealous aren’t ya Dave”.

Paul Williams on Myspace
http://www.myspace.com/paulwilliamssongwriter

Dave Stewart website
http://www.davestewart.com/

Dan Hill website
http://danhill.com/

Canadian Music Week website
http://www.cmw.net/

Radio Stimulus Package ~ Canadian Music Week

2010-03-11T11:43:00.000-08:00

Radio Stimulus Package Discussion Panel
Canadian Music Week
Royal York Hotel, Toronto
March 11, 2010
By Lisa McDonald

Here’s an economic prediction –
in the distant future, if and when the Big Three automakers
get back on their feet, radio will still be standing.
It’s a ballsy vision, what with economic straits,
ever-increasing competition from the digital world,
budget cutbacks and a talent pool shortage.
But this panel of experts has insights
into what needs to be done now
and in the long-term for the medium to adapt.
You may not agree with them,
and they may not agree with each other,
but this promises to be one of the
highest-energy CMW think tanks ever.
~ Canadian Music Week, Toronto 2010

With a media pass graciously provided by Joanne Smale,
of Planet3 Communications Ltd.,
I arrived at the Royal York Hotel this morning
to attend the Radio Stimulus Package discussion panel
featuring Jim Cuddy from Blue Rodeo and
Humble Howard Glassman, co-host of Boom 97.3.
Being escorted to Salon B made me feel like a queen
and sitting down beside a cheerful face,
I was soon sharing introductions with Jessi Nicholson,
a vocalist and songwriter from Vancouver.
As the two of us settled in,
it was mere seconds before the Salon filled to capacity
and things got underway.
Having grown up on CHUM AM and CKOC,
I was exposed at an early age to the undeniable impact
that radio personalities had on music fans.
When rock and roll began in the 50s,
the radio personality was as important as the
artists they were spinning.
Just think of Wolfman Jack in American Graffitti,
and you know exactly what I mean.
But when I became a teenager in the late 70s,
and my musical tastes matured from
silly pop songs to heavier album rock,
I switched from AM to CHUM FM.
Hell, I even worked there briefly in ‘82
for a brief stint as the stations back up receptionist.
(calendar pages flipping backward with memories of
Marilyn Denis and her friendly greeting
when she arrived every morning)
However, by the mid-80s programming at CHUM FM
took a turn toward the lame.
Suddenly we were no longer hearing album rock but
middle-of-the-road-type songs like,
What’s Love Got to Do With It?
It wasn’t long before I left CHUM FM behind
and became a loyal listener of classic rock station, Q107.
These days, I can still rely upon
the Mighty Q for good old classic rock,
even if it is delivered by disc jockeys with little boy mentalities.
But I don’t think I even once returned to CHUM FM.
I listen to CBC Radio instead.
Not so much for the music as for the great conversations found
between Jian Ghomeshi and guests of his morning program, Q.
And the dial built into my kitchen counter ghetto blaster
can sometimes get stuck on 91.1 JAZZ FM.
But ya know,
I really miss those silly pop songs brought to me by 1050 CHUM.
And wonder if that station
can’t come back to life for a second time.
Having said all that,
I arrived at this Canadian Music Week event to hear
those working in the field give their opinion
on the current state of radio today as well as
what radio may look like in the future.
Greg Simpson opened up the proceedings,
and it was nice to chat with him beforehand,
not having seen him since
our road trip to New York City over a year ago.
And Ross Davies, the moderator,
didn’t have to turn on the music
or pull panelists off the podium with a cane for talking over time.
Jim Cuddy himself began his speech by saying,
“I have no problem with the 6 minute time frame.
After all, that’s the same length as a song
before it gets cut down for radio airplay.”
Mr Cuddy spoke to the great Canadian talent we have
right here under our noses
and how radio should get back to taking risks
and playing the yet-to-be-discovered-by-the-masses songs
of our great Canadian talent, naming the Arkells
and another band from Oshawa as good examples.
I, for one would prefer hearing the sounds of Toronto’s very own
singer-songwriter Kevin Quain over Beyonce, any day.
Cuddy also reminded us that this year’s Grammy Awards
ceremony was more than ever, not about music.
For years it’s been about fashion but this year the music
of the Grammies was delivered by a circus act.
Fred Jacobs, Mike McVay, Chuck McCoy, Mark Ramsey
and even Grant Robertson from the Globe and Mail were
all great speakers with well formed opinions and feelings
about what the future of radio means to them.
But it was Humble Howard Glassman
who had the entire room erupting in laughter when
he opened his speech with...
“the reason radio is struggling is because
I’m the only Jew working in it.
C’mon, it’s the entertainment business, where are all the Jews?!”
Howard’s advice: the talents of young and up and coming
jockeys of radio should be nurtured.
A practice apparently, that hasn’t been seen in quite some time.
“Give ‘em 75 bucks for a few hours during the night shift
and let’s bring the on-air talent
of the original radio personality back to life”.
All in all, attending this hour-long
panel discussion was a thoroughly enjoyable
and educational way for me to spend my morning.
I’m still not sure what radio will look like in the future
but historically,
people thought television would kill radio and it didn’t.
Perhaps the life of radio will continue for a long time to come
but adapting to new media and numerous digital platforms
that are now available, seems indisputable.
But I agree with Howard...
Why the hell didn’t anyone complain when the door
was left open while the panelists were speaking?
The excited chatter from the hundreds of CMW participants
in the lobby outside couldn’t have been more disruptive.
There, somebody complained.

Canadian Music Week website
http://www.cmw.net/cmw2010/index.asp,

Led Zeppelin II ~ Classic Albums Live

2010-02-22T15:12:00.000-08:00

Led Zeppelin II ~
Classic Albums Live
The Rapids Theatre,
Niagara Falls NY
February 20, 2010
by Lisa McDonald

With free parking, free coat check
and complimentary tickets,
the 90 minute road trip to get there was a no-brainer.
With a domelike ceiling of old world decor,
great sound and a warm glow,
I was happy as a bee in a honeycomb.
For the Rapids Theatre is a great venue for a show.
Despite boarded up businesses
and the lonely streets of recession-laden Niagara surrounding it,
the audience inside the Rapids was large, lively and enthusiastic.
And with Classic Albums Live in town, why wouldn’t it be?
There’s simply no better cover band anywhere on earth.
With pints of Guinness in hand, three chicks were ready to rock,
and when the lights went down and the 6-piece appeared
“You need coolin', baby, I'm not foolin'.
Performing the second album by Led Zeppelin perfectly,
all eyes were fixed on the stage.
And the crowd sang along to every word, moan and groan
that came sputtering out of Nick Hildyard’s microphone.
There`s a cool Gray guitarist playing at stage left,
And behind him, a woman in a rock band such as this?
But I guess, “if the mountains should crumble to the sea”
Lindsay Clark is the one to play the keys.
For me, the night was all about the drums.
From the number one cock rock anthem opening up the show
to the trancelike beat of Kashmir to close,
Rick Vatour shook me to my toes.
Not only putting forth all his heart, strength and sweat
but rousing us with flying sticks and muscle kisses.
Moby Dick was prob’ly my favourite of them all
along with the groovy Yannetta bass of the Lemon Song.
And as far as the outros go,
I send my thanks to the ever-charming Dom Polito.
Not only for his great guitar and theramin work,
but for opening the second set with my song request.
I told the American CAL fans we met...
“I actually prefer experiencing live music Stateside;
I leave Toronto to do it all the time.
But just remember,
Classic Albums Live belongs to Canada, dammit...
Canada!”

www.classicalbumslive.com
www.rapidstheatre.com

The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnasus

2010-01-15T10:35:00.000-08:00

The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnasus
~ A film review by Lisa McDonald

“What’s really going on between Doctor Parnasus
and the devil anyway?”
was the question running through my mind during most of the film.
It took way too long to get an explanation about the deal
and when an explanation did finally come,
it still wasn’t entirely clear.
Well,
not to me anyway.
The visuals inside the Imaginarium were awesome,
but I knew as I was leaving the cinema,
this film wouldn’t hold any long lasting memories for me.
Tom Waits was the main reason I saw this motion picture,
but unfortunately, I was disappointed with his dialogue.
I expected far better words to be written for him;
he was Tom Waits playing the devil after all.
And seeing Johnny Depp suddenly appear out of nowhere,
may have been fun for some, but for me it was distracting.
On the other hand,
If I had to pick a favourite scene,
I guess it would be the one in the shopping mall
and the uptight woman being seduced by
Depp-filled fantasies in a boat.
But what about Waits dancing the tango?
I could have used more of that.
All in all, as far as performances go
I’d have to say Christopher Plummer saved the day,
because it was he who ultimately managed to move me.
Tears welled as I watched Parnasus watch his daughter
through the restaurant window of the closing scene.
Overall,
the film reminded me of the stage version of Lord of the Rings;
too much great talent wasted on a weak script.
I’m not sure I’ll want to see
this film again when it arrives on DVD,
but if I do,
perhaps I’ll feel differently about it a second time around.
For now,
I give the Imaginarium of Doctor Parnasus...
2 out of 5

Christmas Night in North Carolina

2009-12-25T16:21:00.001-08:00

Christmas Night in North Carolina
by Lisa McDonald

Arriving at Toronto Pearson International airport
three hours before our flight was to depart
didn’t seem to matter.
We still found ourselves running for the gate,
and running at record speed,
which also didn’t seem to matter.
By the time we got there,
our plane was already taxiing down the runway
on its way to Costa Rica, leaving us behind!
Tears instantly sprung from my eyes and poured down my face.
Doesn’t this only happen in the movies?
People don’t actually run to the gate and
miss their flight in real life, do they?
Apparently they do.
The lady at the American Airlines counter told me,
“We’re very sorry,
but the next flight out to Costa Rica is not until tomorrow”.
A short-staffed airline was the cause of our missed flight,
and the anger in me was more than apparent when I replied,
“This is totally unacceptable.
I am not going home now,
only to come back here and do this all over again tomorrow!
I want another flight,
and I want one right now!”
Looking straight into the eyes of my tear-streaked face,
the fingers of American Airlines suddenly began flying
rapidly all over the desktop keyboard.
And in what seemed like minutes,
the clicking and tapping informed us
another flight departing Toronto for Costa Rica
had indeed been found.
Imagine that.
"But the thing is...
the flight will only bring you to North Carolina
where you’ll have to spend the night.
From there we’ll put you on another flight
bound for Costa Rica”.
“As long as we get the hell out of Toronto today,
I don't care”, I said.
After spending another few hours
eating ridiculously over-priced
Terminal 1 junk food,
we finally got to board the plane.
I breathed a bloated sigh of relief,
knowing I'd soon be safely far enough away
from all the phony Christmas bullshit
that was no doubt piling up
in every North American household far and wide.
Fastening the belt and sitting back in my seat,
I then began wondering how I was going to manage
the other anxiety.
If it meant going someplace cool like Costa Rica,
I’ll get on an airplane anytime, anywhere.
But the truth is, I hate flying!
I pulled the window blind down
and paid the five bucks for headphones,
hoping the movie would help distract.
But noooooo.
The space between my ears was given the jolt.
Why does the manly voice always have to inform
“we’re now flying at an altitude of 30,000 feet..."
Miss American Airlines was right on time though,
with another gin and tonic.
I did remarkably well for the duration of the flight
and I thank the pilot behind the manly voice
for landing us at our destination in one piece.
But arriving at the complimentary North Carolina hotel,
I soon had that feeling of being in a soul-sucking suburb
similar to Scarborough or Mississauga.
Except for the 24-hour gas station across the street,
directly beside what appeared to be a 50s-style diner,
there was simply nothing else around.
A lifeless winter’s night carrying the weight
of ten lonely Sundays.
Ugh.
And to make it worse, it was Christmas night.
Dropping our luggage off, I said...
“50s-style diners can be cool, so let’s go there”.
Swivelling on the chrome and cracked lime green vinyl
of a retro stool at the counter,
I tried not to bump elbows with my partner
as I surveyed the diner's decor.
What a trailer trash nightmare.
Hanging off everything from
the cash register to the jukebox
were the tackiest seasonal decorations
of the dollar-store-kind I'd ever seen.
Outstanding was the silver and red tinsel
that was wrapped around
a cheesy wooden frame of The Last Supper,
which was nailed to the wall above the cook's head.
Ugh.
I wonder if that Last Supper
was purchased from a vendor
that could only be found in the centre
of a suburban Easter-time shopping mall.
Prob'ly.
The cook was standing over a sweaty grill
flippin' Oscar Meyer bacon, sausage and burger grease
all over his dingy white smock,
the stench of which drifted over to greet
my unusually clear nasal passages.
The fluorescent bulbs on the ceiling above
threw down a ghastly glow
that illuminated the laminated place mat menu.
I realized I had a tough decision to make.
Should I order the $1.99 iceberg lettuce salad,
which would likely be served with a sliver of radish
and a package of Italian dressing on the side, or
should I throw my vegetarianism out the window
and order the $2.99 bologna and mustard sandwich?
As an 8-year old kid I loved nothing more
than a tall glass of iced Coca Cola to wash down
a bologna and mustard sandwhich.
But now I'm all growed up and haired over.
So I ordered coffee instead.
My eyes then fell upon the ceramic Elvis bust
who's eyes seemed to be looking down upon
the decrepit fake Christmas tree
that was jammed crookedly into the corner
beside the grease-spattered cook.
The bells hanging from the front door
soon jangled me from my annoyance
as folks strolled merrily in
from the cold of someplace else.
Even though the diner was full,
locals kept cramming in.
This really must be the only place open in town,
except of course for that 24-hour gas station next door.
A thick layer of grey cigarette smoke circled my head
as I squinted at the busty, gum-snapping waitress
standing before me.
With her left hand placed on a curvy hip,
and her right hand pouring from a pot of hot coffee,
I shit you not,
she really was a busty gum-snappin' waitress.
I finally had to crack a smile
when she said in a southern drawl...
“Would you like cream and sugar with that, darlin’?”
North or South,
the Carolina waitress was very good
at servin' up the hospitality.
I began to daydream about Tom Waits
suddenly appearing in that booth fit for four;
sitting all alone under an Andy Capp flat cap,
scribbling a new song on a tea-stained napkin.
But then my imagination got jangled again,
when the diner got jolly.
Someone decided to coin-up the jukebox
and now the red, white and blue Americans
were startin' a sing-a-long of
Here Comes Santa Claus, Here Comes Santa Claus.
Taking the last gulp of my lukewarm coffee,
the face of Charles Emerson Winchester
suddenly popped into my mind.
Somehow right then, at that very moment,
I could totally relate with the snobby
Boston, Massachusetts surgeon,
when he found himself dumped in the swamp
of the 4077th, M*A*S*H.
God dammit, we should be spending Christmas night
tucked away in the rolling hills of Monteverde!
Had it not been for incompetence,
we'd be surrounded by
lush rainforests and Spanish accents right about then.
But noooooo,
I was in hell.

Payback ~ James Brown

2009-11-23T09:58:00.000-08:00

Payback ~ James Brown
by Lisa McDonald

While standing
in the narrow stairwell of
Toronto’s Orbit Room
waiting to get into the club’s 15th anniversary R&B show
James Brown suddenly came blasting down from overhead
PAYBACK!
The impatience I was feeling soon evaporated
as this is not only my favourite James Brown song
It simply has to be
THE greatest James Brown song of all time!
My ears were instantly at attention
Does it get any groovier?
Just listen to it
Jesus, what a tune
Brings ya right back to the 70s, instantly
They don’t call him the Godfather of Soul for nothin’ brother
James Brown has more soul in his big toe
Than most so called artists out there today
Needless to say,
legs were shaking in the Orbit Room line up
Shaking straight out to College St for a full eight minutes
Give me them hits baby
I need them hits
Turn it up and
#&*@%*# hit me!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vsOmvSlPuys

And as far as choreography goes
Without a doubt,
it was this video clip that Michael Jackson took his first lesson...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7K3KbzjT6Sc

Little Steven, Springsteen and Tom Wilson

2009-11-22T07:47:00.000-08:00

Little Steven, Springsteen and Tom Wilson
by Lisa McDonald

Not born in the 40s like most of the rock and roll greats,
Little Steven Van Zant arrived on this very day
back in the year nineteen fifty.
Of course you can't think of Little Steven
without thinking of the E Street Band.
And for me, the memory that comes flooding back
is from the eighties when
one hot summer night in Toronto's CNE stadium,
I heard Mr Springsteen play No Surrender
acoustically.
The song is packed with just as much emotion,
hope, dreams, and rock and roll heart as any
in Springsteen's great body of work.
And it brings tears to my eyes every fucking time,
especially watching this clip from the very night I speak of,
acoustically...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JxVu41Vsthg

And then there's Hamilton-born Tom Wilson
who certainly carries a Springsteen influence
with his own brand of powerful songwriting.
From the new record A Quiet Evil,
there's a song that's been following me around
that I can't seem to get out of my head.
I'm Going to Stay that Way is packed
with just as much emotion as No Surrender,
but the song describes the feeling of
hopes and dreams that have been crushed.
When you're so crushed you wonder
why the fuck you took a chance on love to begin with.
With a rock and roll heart torn and frayed
all over the fucking floor,
"You drove me crazy
and I'm gonna stay that way"
brilliantly describes it...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sZkavAIAxJ0

NEGUS: from Saga to the Collective ~ an interview with Steve Negus and George Roche

2009-11-08T08:28:00.000-08:00

by Lisa McDonald

Hailing from the city of Oakville, Pockets was the original name for the
progressive rock band Saga, before they changed it in 1977
With a rhythm section from Fludd
Ian Crichton on guitar and Michael Sadler on lead vocal
Saga began tearing up the charts in the early 80s
with hit songs such as Wind Him Up, On the Loose,
Don’t Be Late, and Scratching the Surface
And with equally successful videos to accompany them
Saga was awarded the 1982 Juno for
Most Promising Group of the Year
Steve Negus, a Grimsby native
now living in east Hamilton, Ontario
not only co-wrote these songs with Saga
but he was their original drummer until
announcing his departure in 2003
Mr Negus, along with his manager George Roche,
joins me now to discuss the history and
what’s been going on since his retirement

Growing up with Hamilton radio station CKOC, what music were you hearing that led you to form your own band at the age of 12?

I use to collect the CKOC charts, but I got interested way before that. I was born in 1952 so I would say somewhere around ’60-’62, I started getting into surf music. My first album was The Beach Boys. I was also listening to Jan and Dean, The Safaris and the Ventures. You weren’t considered a drummer unless you could play Wipe-Out.

After high school, you came to Toronto to work at a bank. Can you tell us what led up to quitting your day job and joining a band called Bananas?

I was working for the Bank of Montreal at Bay and Wellesley and two weeks before I was due to write my accountant exams, I looked around the bank and thought, I don’t want to do this. I really don’t want to do this.

You mean, you didn’t fit in with the Bay Street crowd (laughs)?

I was playing in a country band six nights a week plus a Saturday matinee at the Winchester Hotel in Cabbagetown. There were four of us guys living in this mouse-infested apartment just around the corner from the bar. These days the area is high rent, but back then it was pretty seedy. One guy worked at a pizza store, one guy was going to George Brown College, and there was a guitar player. I use to get up in the morning and put a suit on. At night I’d take it off and go play country music.

And on ten minutes sleep probably?

That’s it. I could do that then! (laughs).

But now it’s hard isn’t it? Even without the booze. (laughs)

Absolutely. The guy who worked at Bobby Orr’s Pizza would come home around 4 in the morning with a pizza every night. We’d stay up and eat it. But after quitting the bank, I went to Long and McQuade and pulled three numbers off the bulletin board. One of the three was for a band called Bananas. After doing the usual audition thing, I got the gig as their drummer. After a few rehearsals we started performing. Bananas later became one of the top show bands in Toronto. We played the El Mocambo, The Jarvis House, and a place called The Generator at Yonge and Eglinton. These were great gigs and we made great money back then.

What about the Le Coq d'or Tavern on Yonge St? Did you play there?

Bananas didn’t, but I use to hang out there. It was the only R&B club on the strip. They’d bring in these American black bands like Tavares and the President's Band. I’d go down and sit in with some of them. They use to call me “blue eyed soul brother” (laughs). I’d say, “what are ya talking about? I don’t have blue eyes” (laughs). At that point in my career, I still wasn’t all that serious about playing but I liked the whole thing about you know, meeting women. But while I was in Bananas, I heard a band called Tower of Power.

Oh, I love them! I saw them at BB King’s bar in New York last November.

Tower of Power changed my life. As soon as I heard this band I thought, I gotta play that! (David) Garibaldi, the drummer, is one of my greatest influences. A lot of my style comes from the R&B side of things, so that’s why I liked sitting in at the Coq d’or. I loved playing the funk stuff. It’s drummer’s music. So I quit Bananas and started my own R&B band. We did a whole summer in Wasaga Beach at a place called the Dardanella.

Was this the band called Shelter?

Yes, and it started out as a six-piece R&B band; two black singers, Betty and Otis; a black guitar player; and three white guys, one on bass, one on keyboards and myself on drums. We played stuff like Gladys Knight and the Pips and Tower of Power. But while we’re playing the Dardanella gig, Betty got herself pregnant and left to have an abortion. My six-piece R&B band went down to five. Otis Gale, who we used to call Leroy (laughs) gets haemorrhoids, but he tells the doctor he’s constipated instead, and the doctor gives him a laxative! The next thing you know Leroy’s in the hospital having his haemorrhoids removed and my six-piece R&B band goes down to four. The only other guy who sings is the guitar player. One night during the middle of the second set, the guitar player starts falling back and leaning on his amp. “I can’t play,” he says. “What’s the matter?” I ask him. “I did angel dust.” We take him outside and walk him around, but he’s saying stuff like “why do I exist?” (laughs). My six-piece R&B band is now three white guys who don’t sing! Across the street there was another R&B band playing at The Windjammer and we had good camaraderie with their singer, Mighty Pope. When Mighty Pope heard what was going on, he’d come sit in with our band and then run back and do his own. Needless to say at the end of the summer, Shelter went their separate ways.

After packing in Shelter, you went on to join Fullerton Dam and then eventually became the drummer for Fludd which led to The Pockets, who became Saga.

Fullerton Dam was an original rock band with Grant Fullerton. In order to play Grant’s original material, I suddenly had to take my R&B chops and start playing with baseball bats on a big double kick bass drum. Grant had been with bands like Stitch in Tyme and Lighthouse and still performs today. But back then, the band was struggling. We did one album together on Condor Records, but it was a tough go playing original material. One night while playing at Larry’s Hideaway (long gone now), the boys from Fludd came in, scouting for a new drummer to replace Ian McCorkle. McCorkle also played in the progressive rock band Breathless with Jeff Plewman, aka Nash the Slash. McCorkle really suited the role with his long blonde hair but Fludd fired him because his timing was suspect. When Brian Pilling said, “we’re shopping for a new drummer and he’s sitting right here.” I had to go through the decision, “well, should I stay with Grant because I’d been with him for two years?” or “should I take this gig with Fludd?”

Fludd were already an established band at this point?

It was around 1975 and Fludd already had success with Cousin Mary. I decided to take the gig. But what happened was, Brian had leukemia. He had it when I joined the band but it was in remission. Everything was fine until his remission broke down and the band came to an abrupt halt. At that point Fludd was Peter Rochon, Jimmy Crichton and myself, and the Pilling brothers. But when this happened to Brian, we realized we couldn’t continue the band as Fludd. Together with Jimmy Crichton and his younger brother Ian on guitar, Peter Rochon and Mike, who had sang with Jimmy in a band called Truck, we formed Pockets. We rented a rehearsal space at the old Phillips building at Leslie and Eglinton and set up shop to work eight to ten hours a day, six days a week. We ate peanut butter sandwiches to survive. We did two months out of town, our first being at Tudor Tavern in Cambridge to a room of six people and we did some stuff in Quebec too. But the first thing we did in Toronto was simulcast on Q107 from Thunder Sound, which I think is gone now too. It was a Sunday night and we played straight to air, and then the next night The Pockets opened at the Piccadilly Tube, which is also gone. It seems they’re all gone now. But we did two weeks at the Piccadilly and packed it every night.

So how did you go from six people to packed rooms every night?

Well Cambridge is a small town. We were a band they’d never heard of, so why would they go see it? Fludd were really well known in Toronto and people made the connection to The Pockets. At that time, we were in Phase One studio too, working with Paul Gross who basically fronted us studio time so we could start the first Pockets album.

Who is Paul Gross?

Paul produced the first three Saga albums with his partner Doug. Doug also worked with Triumph. There was a ton of stuff going on at the time. I think some of the original Honeymoon Suite was done there, and I believe Bryan Adams recorded there as well. It was THE rock studio.

So between the rehearsal space, Phase One studio, and the Piccadilly Tube, Pockets became Saga?

Once we finished the first album we discovered there was already a band called Pockets so we couldn’t use that name. It was our manager who came up with the name Saga because of the continuing story aspects of what we were doing lyrically at the time.

Looking back through all this history, when did you first acquire the title Lord of the Drums?

That was actually toward the later days of Saga when I started getting older (laughs). By being in Saga I had gained notoriety for my style of playing. My signature was also recognizable when I played on Don’t Pay the Ferryman by Chris DeBurgh. Lord of the Drums was a name my webmaster came up with and it stuck, but there’s no real story to go with it.

You mentioned Garibaldi, but who are some of the other drummers and percussionists that have influenced you?

Garibaldi is probably my biggest influence and I think every rock drummer is influenced by John Bonham. I met Led Zeppelin on the tour before Bonham died. We were performing with Styx in Germany during the Grand Illusion tour (1980) and Led Zeppelin was playing on the same night, so we ended up in a bar with John Paul Jones and Robert Plant. In Germany, if you’re a resident at a hotel, the bar stays open until you leave. I stayed in the bar with those guys till 8 in the morning drinking schnapps and beer! I’ve never been a big jazz guy, but another drummer who’s influenced me is Dave Brubeck’s drummer, Joe Morello. In 1961, my music teacher gave me a copy of Time Further Out and if you look on Youtube, you’ll find early footage of Take Five and Morello playing around with time signatures, back before no one else ever thought about it.

During your time with Saga, there were sideline projects in the works. Was it necessary to leave Saga in order to focus on other creative pursuits?

Something I told Jimmy Gilmour when he first joined Saga was, “you’re destined to spend your whole life being somewhat frustrated. If you’re not frustrated, the creative juices can’t flow. In other words, if you’ve done everything you can as a musician, then you’re ready to retire.” Even though Saga was at the pinnacle of success and Worlds Apart the most successful recording, Jimmy Gilmour and I were frustrated. When Head or Tales was released and didn’t do as well, we all looked at each other wondering why. There was dissention in the ranks, if you like, where Jimmy and I felt some of the issues should have been handled differently. We were pushed out of the band and I think it had a lot to do with management. If they cut the pie three ways instead of five, Saga could make more money.

But Saga didn’t go on as a three-piece, did they?

No, they hired side men to replace us. They left us with no equipment for over a year and we had to get lawyers to settle. Jimmy and I decided to do our own album. We hooked up with Robbie Rae, who had a hit with Que Sera Sera.

Que Sera Sera, the Doris Day song?

The dance version.

The Canadian dance version of Que Sera Sera? (laughing). You learn something new every day!

Robbie thought I was gay. When Jimmy and I asked him to sing on our stuff, he thought I was trying to pick him up (laughing). But he did join us and we released an album as GNP. Shortly after that, Jimmy decided to go to Frankfurt to attend the Namm show (trade shows where new music equipment is presented) and while over there, Jimmy met up with Mike Sadler (the singer from Saga). Their conversation set the basis for Jimmy and I to reunite with Saga.

But wasn’t the material for GNP already formulating before you were pushed out of Saga?

No. After the first three Saga records, the band moved to England. We lived together to write the fourth album while our agents went looking for producers. Rupert Hines came up and we decided to do the next album with him. Rupert is a brilliant producer. We did the album at Farmyard Studios in Little Chalfont. Rupert and I developed a great relationship and because he liked the sound of my drums in the old farm, he called me in when he produced The Getaway record for Chris DeBurgh. When I started work on that, DeBurgh handed me a cassette with a synopsis for each song, which I thought was absolutely brilliant. Chris is a singer songwriter who actually lets you play what you want and to get that kind of freedom is unbelievable. It was part of what caused the light bulb to go off in my head. Saga always wrote the music first and then jammed the lyrics and melody after the fact. So what we ended up with was a great piece of music, but not necessarily a great song. I thought DeBurgh’s way was a better way to write songs but, when I tried to take this back to Saga, they didn’t want any part of it. This added to my unrest, if you will, that led to my departure.

Were you involved with most of the song writing for Saga?

Saga wrote music mainly as a collective when it came to the actual music side of it. Michael Sadler and Jimmy would do most of the lyrics and melodies. I wrote lyrics in the early days, but they never got recorded.

I saw a Youtube clip of a song called Pick Up the Phone. This is an original song you wrote as a three-piece under the name Negusis. Can you tell me more about this band?

While with Saga, I had presented an album’s worth of material but they either didn’t like it or they didn’t listen to it, I’m not sure which. So I ended up sending some of my stuff to Al Langlade. Langlade is a singer who wanted me to produce him, but I always said no. I didn’t like his songs. But when I got my stuff back from Langlade with his vocal on it, I almost fell over. It was Dare to Dream! I heard the lyrics and melody with his voice and thought, wow! The seed had been planted. Langlade lives in Thunder Bay and I live in Hamilton, so when I was pushed out of Saga, I joined an 8-piece R&B band called Power House, while Langlade and I worked over the internet. And it was with the bass player and guitar player from Power House that led me to form Negusis.

Are there any similarities between writing with Langlade and writing with Saga?

Yes. Back in the early days of Saga, there was a lot of me in the songs, especially from the groove stand point. The thing that made Saga different from other progressive bands was my R&B background. The grooves are totally different from say, what King Crimson, Yes, Genesis or Rush were playing. I was actually compared to Neil Peart back then, but apart from the fact we both play drums and grew up five miles from each other, there is no other comparison. Neil plays from a prog rock angle with a lot more time signatures. But back in the day, the big three were Rush, Max Webster and Saga, so we did shows at Maple Leaf Gardens and Saga and Rush toured together. All coming up at the same time, of course there were comparisons. This was our peer group. The groove of me is inherent in the early Saga stuff but it wasn’t renewed until I began writing with Langlade. Now I’m having fun again with a great band.

Do you enjoy working in the studio?

I love studio work. I’m as comfortable in the studio as I am on stage. They do different things for me, but I like them both equally. Being in the studio can be tedious, but it’s where you take your ideas and develop them. You have to put in the time to get the essence of the song out. It doesn’t just come with playing the chords, at least not for me. With my music, it’s like writing for orchestras with elements and counter melodies and all this subtle stuff going on. You’ll hear new stuff in the arrangements even after listening to it a hundred times.

Langlade is also the vocalist in the Negus band, along with Kelly Kereliuk on guitar, Ian Nielsen on bass and Matt Whale on keyboards. Will fans be hearing strictly Negus originals at your shows, or do you also perform material from Saga?

What I’m doing at my shows is a compilation of all the history we’ve talked about. I’m doing a Fludd song, a Chris DeBurgh song, and although we did In Your Eyes at one show, we haven’t been doing any GNP. I’m hoping to have Ed Pilling come out and do What an Animal, one of Fludd’s big hits. And of course we’re doing Saga stuff. We take Saga tracks, and give them slightly different twists to see how it feels in the show. We change it up to find a nice mix.

When I was re-visiting Saga songs prior to this interview, I thought my god, I know all these songs. I know all the words! (laughter) And I was reminded just how many hit songs you had. And not only the songs, but Saga had many videos playing on television.

Saga came out right at the time when MTV was breaking. MTV showed our videos to death because there weren’t that many to show at the time. Saga was touring the States extensively with Pat Benatar, Billy Squire, Heart, and Jethro Tull. By playing our videos regularly, MTV really helped break us in America.

For years now, Canadian artists have to go to the United States to make a name for themselves. I think it’s still that way. Saga not only toured the States, but became huge in places like Puerto Rico. What are your thoughts not only on the Canadian music industry today but the music business in general?

Most Canadian artists have to go someplace else to be successful. I think its part of the Canadian psyche. We have this thing in our head, an inferiority complex.

We need somebody else, other than a Canadian, to tell us we’re good?

Exactly.

I grew up thinking that.

Of course you did. Until somebody else accepts it, it’s just Canadian so it can’t be good. Now, this is the problem that all Canadian artists, including myself, are still having. There is very little support from Canadian communities and with the collapse of the music industry, we’re now faced with situations whereby most bands can’t afford to play. This brings us to The Collective, which George (Roche) and I want to talk about.

George Roche, manager of Steve Negus and Executive Producer of Lucid Productions joins the conversation.

GR
In order to get the notoriety and recognition originally brought about by the record companies, musicians now have to rely on their own pragmatic skill. With record companies looking after it, bands didn’t need to hone their own business skill or be required to manage the manager. Bands only had to get to sound check on time. Due to the advent of the internet and the inauguration of Youtube, the record industry has imploded. The artist now has to wear all the hats. Artists have to rely on their own resources to bring their music to the field. And the internet and Youtube are mediums that even the record companies now say bands have no choice but to use. But how do we compensate the artist fairly? This is the biggest glitch. It’s amazing that the current mindset has no guilt and no shame whatsoever of going on line and accessing Steve’s or anyone’s music for free. It wasn’t long ago you’d be sued for this.

SN
Performing live is the only real source of revenue left for musicians. And I think in order to make it a healthy environment again, we have to go back to a grass roots level and build an audience from there.

Online social networking sites like Facebook and Myspace are very powerful and many of us like using them to promote music. It’s the first and foremost reason I use them. But the market is saturated and I’m not altogether sure if these sites are being used effectively.

GR
The internet is helping to build our team in ways that were never possible before. Years ago you couldn’t find people as easily as we can find them now. You had to know someone who knew someone who knew someone. Now you can find people on Facebook with the click of a mouse. Technology has worked against the industry but there are also many ways to benefit by it. However, let’s take it one step further. The results people will experience will only come from what’s been properly stated. Word of mouth is only as effective as the communication style being used to elicit a response. If the communication style is ineffective, word of mouth in itself is just another ineffective tool. The formulation of the communication strategy is the beginning. Lisa, remember when we were on the phone? Afterward you sent me an email to say “what a great conversation we were having, too bad my phone died”. Think about that for a minute. It’s the inspiration from that kind of conversation that keeps us here. Get that interesting conversation going and the market will listen. But if it’s the same old hat and repetition of the old ways, you’re done. It’s got to be a new pitch, a new way of thinking, a new conversation. And when people feel that newness, it will motivate them to action. It’s all about the emotional. Yea! Yea! Yea! It’s about taking the necessary steps that are congruent to the current climate requirements. I still got musicians saying, “I’m a fucking rock star, where’s my guarantee?” And I’ll argue with them on the phone saying, “if you’re looking for a guarantee, you’re stuck in the 80s.” It’s lead, follow or get out of the way.

The Grateful Dead who based their entire 40-year career on the live experience and building their fan base from a grass roots level, have the most loyal and dedicated fans on the planet. And it’s still going strong. But at the same time, the late Jerry Garcia was quoted as saying, “the music should be free”.

GR
The Grateful Dead were future-proofed years ago. Bands back then were applauded for releasing independently. Challenge the machine! Say no to the record companies! This showed character and heart. You were courageous to be able to do this and you were applauded. But these are not the times for sticking your tongue out at the people who were once feeding the industry. If you can’t afford to produce your own material now, you’re not going to get it released independently or otherwise. If you take an independent working band who gigs twice a month, in the end that band will have incurred over $100 per gig related to gas, cell phone bills, media, graphic work and equipment rental expenses. Most are out of pocket before they hit the stage and probably will lose money. Not to mention those bands that have members who hold down jobs, who don’t have the time to invest in performing the tasks necessary to effectively market and advertise their act. In any case, that’s $1200 per year to a band playing six months of that year, and it’s pale in comparison to what it would cost to market a band using more aggressive strategies. No matter who you are, the question is "where are your followers and how many are showing up?"

SN
When I tried to get the Negus band out to play, I couldn’t find an agent. All the agents are booking these days are tribute bands. It’s the tribute bands that are making money. But by only booking tribute bands, the club owners and agents are destroying original music. Agents laughed at me when I said I wanted to book my original band. “ha, ha... sorry, I just booked an Abba tribute this week”. I don’t want to play in a tribute band.

GR
Its robbery compared to say, Germany, where the music scene has always been very proactive. Germans have their own music outside of the international stuff. Every fourth song on the radio has to be German and be sung in German.

But Canada does have their own music and our radio stations are regulated for Canadian content.

SN
But where do they get it from? Years ago it was Gordon Lightfoot and Anne Murray and I guess now Saga fits into that as well. You’ll hear Wind Him Up and On the Loose but they don’t get their Canadian content from new artists, only from Canadian gold. This has been going on for years. It’s the old Canadian way of just playing it safe.

Okay, so who exactly is The Collective and how will they make the difference?

GR
The Collective are willing to address the issues most want to ignore. Nothing will change unless it’s acknowledged. Many have accepted the mediocrity as if there’s no other solution. What it comes down to is the strength of any one initiative and the amount of people who buy into it. One or two people can’t change the world. The strength of the numbers will be realized by people who get the thinking. We can only conquer the conquerable by working with the workable. Whoever is interested in seeing a change, will want to take risks and get outside the box, and not live in this mediocre comfort zone. By staying in the box, we stagnate and stunt our growth.

SN
To answer your question more specifically, The Collective is artists, photographers, video people, journalists, you, marketing, management, agents, promoters, and everyone else on the credits. What we have to realize is, without each other we have nothing. We have to pull together, pool our resources and donate our services, so that we have some power to get out there and perform.

When you say donate services, do you mean donate money?

SN
No, it’s not about donating money. Bands are going to clubs and asking “can I get a gig here?”, and the club owners are telling them “give me 1200 bucks, bring the audience and market it, and you can have a gig here”. This is not easy to do, but if everyone involved in the field combines their efforts, The Collective can promote, take care of sound, the lights, the door, and whatever else needs to be done. We can do this ourselves! We’ll pack the place and the club can have the bar. Most of The Collective will work for, if not nothing, next to nothing, at least as we develop and build our team. Eventually the money will come to get paid for our services.

GR
Club owners would have no reason to say no because we’ve solved their problems. And we’re not looking for the guarantee. We believe with the skills, experience, knowledge and efforts of dedicated people, we won’t need the guarantee. It doesn’t make sense to leave everyone in a segregated position when we’re all vying for the same attention, the same market, and utilising the same resources. Everyone may as well be brought on line to better the pragmatic game board. One of the biggest problems out there right now is the disconnection with relationships. It all has to get harmonized. The Collective is the answer but it has to be credible. It will really come down to credibility. I personally cannot stand seeing a stage wasted on Mustang Sally. It drives me up the wall. I don’t want to knock the guys who are out there playing Mustang Sally and Brown Eyed Girl, but I want The Collective to be about the dedication and commitment found in creativity.

But really, how will this be any different? How will you prevent the egos that led to the greed that caused the collapse of the music business to begin with?

GR
We’ll be running it, and we’ll have the decision making powers to say....

But that sounds like another record company to me.

GR
But with record companies you didn’t have a choice. The negativistic way which took over the industry is a learned way of thinking. This psychology needs to be addressed. It comes from being conditioned by negative messages sent by those running the businesses. We need people desirous of change. But there’s no point in pitching a monkey on this if he doesn’t understand the language. We’re going to start with the people who already get it, and bring them on line. They will become the foot soldiers and the teachers. I think that’s what it will take. We need the role models to restore the integrity on this thing. With The Collective, bands come and we audition them. We’ll have competent people looking at the skills of the band. If they’re not up to the standards of the Collective, we’ll send them to the amateur division at The League of Rock, for example (see LOR website link at the end of the article). Terry Moshenberg at the League of Rock provides an environment where bands can find out if being a professional musician is something they’re really up for and really want to do.

Little Steven (Van Zant) says a band only gets good by playing covers. A band has to play in a bar six nights a week, paying their dues, before they’ll ever be any good.

GR
But you know what happens? When you’re done with those bars, the majority of bands don’t make it back. The majority! Clubs are scrutinizing and they’re very prejudicial. It doesn’t matter how good you are, the club only cares about the bottom line. Bands then have to go find new venues to play in. We want to keep everyone at the same level. But there has to be some integrity. There has to be dedication and commitment on the band’s part. The ID cards The Collective hands out will be indication enough. When clubs see our card, it will say, “oh this guy has been approved by a body of people who want to put out good music”.

SN
There are also phenomenal photographers who we’ve made part of our team. These photographers would be made available to not just my band, but for all who join The Collective. It will enable us to better do what we do, just as it does for you as a journalist. As a journalist for example, by joining the Collective, we could feed you new artists as it grows, and you could write about it. It’s a win-win situation.

Looking at stadium shows these days, I don’t know how much longer music fans will continue dishing out money for the ticket prices they’re charging. It’s been on the decline for a while I think, yet if Live Nation and Ticketmaster merge, live music may only be experienced by the elite class.

GR
I won’t buy from Ticketmaster. But isn’t it interesting? Ticketmaster are seeking their next of kin to work with, just as musicians are. I talk with all kinds of managers and we benefit largely from our exchange of information and our own findings, which in many ways can be serendipitous, ya know?

Bob Lefsetz, the industry guy who goes on and on about the need for this kind of change has very strong opinions which caused a heated debate with Gene Simmons at the Royal York Hotel during the last Canadian Music Week in Toronto. Lefsetz argued that Simmons’ new record label will take off initially because of the Simmons name, but ultimately it will fail because he uses the old model. I guess you both agree with Lefsetz?

GR
Anything Gene Simmons touches turns to money. He’s Gene. But once we figure out what the communicative words are going to be, The Collective spiel will be what moves people. It cannot be the same message. If you’re going to survive in the Canadian music industry, you have to be proactive, pro-social, and do it deliberately. What’s going to happen? Are the clubs going to become extinct? Are we going to shut down the entire industry because there won’t be any places left to play? Will there be a rebellion? If we don’t get control of this thing now, that could very well happen. Interestingly, entertainment revenue is the second thing central to the local economy. Most people don’t realize it. If you get a divorce, entertainment expenses are on the table as a legitimate expense. But what I’ve learned is Canada is very apathetic. I think we’ve been trained to be. People treat you the way you teach them how to. The negativistic business practices that have run the industry has led us to apathy and stagnation. There’s so much distrust and so many people getting screwed. How can anyone think about what they can do for the Canadian music industry when all that’s on their mind is the next guy who’s gonna fuck them? This is not the state of mind to be pro-active, pro-social, a planner, a contributor, or a teammate! The power has been placed in the wrong laps for many years. Power should be shifted to the people actually doing the work, the hands-on people.

Is the Collective open to all genres of music?

GR
It’s about matching the right resource with the right opportunity. I just did sound for Walter Asternack on the weekend. I added him to the list because I realize there could be blue hairs down the road who want to hear polka!

Is the Collective an established entity right now? Will it require registration?

GR
You’re talking TMA. The Toronto Musician Association was a sham. They offered legal advice and they offered a lot of things to the artists who paid membership money, but TMA delivered nothing. Any situation I ever heard of where the TMA was involved, claims were never delivered upon. I think it fizzled out when artists stopped paying their dues. Tragically, our own government doesn't seem to know how to build legislation to defend our artists and their material, but they have that protection and legislation firmly in place for the film industry, don't they? One of the focuses of The Collective will be to address those issues with a united front on matters. It's time to really begin utilizing our resources to promote a quality of life within the music industry that doesn’t exist right now. In my view, for that to be achieved, everyone must agree that we are all in the same boat and, if that boat tips over, we ALL get wet. A partnership is not about one person having a better chance at profit than anyone else involved. That's greed. The Collective is about fairness and equality. The ME ME ME! has got to go. It's back to grass roots. "You work for me" has been edited to "we are working together.”

SN
I think if we all work together, we’ll all win. We won’t be dealing with a cultural wasteland.

http://www.stevenegus.com/
http://www.myspace.com/thelucidproductions
http://www.myspace.com/sagaca
http://www.leagueofrock.com/

The published article for this interview
can be found at FYI Music...

NEGUS: from Saga to the Collective
Part One
http://fyimusic.ca/talent/lisa-mcdonald-has-steve-negus-tell-his-saga

NEGUS: from Saga to the Collective
Part Two
http://fyimusic.ca/talent/the-saga-of-steve-negus-part-2

It Might Get Loud ~ a film by Davis Guggenheim

2009-10-11T21:15:00.001-07:00

It Might Get Loud
~ a film by Davis Guggenheim
Cumberland Cinema, Toronto
October 11, 2009

Everything from The Edge doing Blackberry yoga
to the blood dripping fingers of Jack White’s guitar
to the closing credits of a Canadian song,
I loved every single solitary second of this documentary
Beautifully shot and fascinating to watch,
all musicians and music lovers everywhere
must see this film
I can’t wait to see it again
and I will definitely buy the dvd for my collection
But what charmed me the most was that British rocker
You know the one
He was totally and completely charming
Dressed in elegant black with hair as white as snow,
I hung off his every well-spoken word
And I’m just as amazed watching him play guitar now
as I was in the 70s
The question which rests upon my lips is this...
“Mr Page, may I come to your house for English tea
and listen to your vinyl collection, please?”

Lisa McDonald
Live Music Head
October 2009

It Might Get Loud, the trailer
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5sBLir8H2zM&feature=fvst

It Might Get Loud, the website
http://www.sonyclassics.com/itmightgetloud/

Bob Dylan's Christmas Album

2009-10-02T18:58:00.000-07:00

Bob Dylan's Christmas In The Heart
by Lisa McDonald
October 2009

David Fricke says, it’s a gift of "sincerity".
Sincerity?
I thought it was a joke when I first heard about it.
And then it turned out to be true!
"Ugh," I say
After hearing Letterman’s admission of guilt over sex play,
with his staff on last night’s Late Show,
I’d give an award to Dave before Bob when it comes to sincerity.
The only thing good about this record is
the proceeds are going to charity.
That's it, that's all.
Yet, I can’t see a whole lot of money going to charity
when no one in their right mind would buy this.
Seeing the words Santa Claus, Elvis and Bob Dylan
in the same paragraph,
makes me wish I never read Fricke's review.
I was in a bad enough mood already,
but hearing Bob Dylan sing
Here Comes Santa Claus, Here Comes Santa Claus
finished me off.
I hated it from the get-go,
and it just gets worse with each song.
I won’t be torturing my ears with that again.
Sadly, young music lovers who haven’t yet discovered Dylan
will hear this record and have no trouble
casting his musical genius aside,
without ever listening to any of his other work.
Not to mention, if Dylan was to drop dead tomorrow
this piece of crap would be the last musical thing he’s done.
If I was writing a review in Rolling Stone,
it would simply say this...
“If you want to get really depressed,
listen to Bob Dylan’s Christmas album...
It's music to shoot yourself in the head by.”
~ Lisa McDonald

David Fricke reviews Dylan’s Christmas record
http://www.rollingstone.com/rockdaily/index.php/2009/10/02/bob-dylans-christmas-in-the-heart-frickes-first-listen/

Little Child Big World ~ an interview with Sue and Dwight

2009-09-21T06:56:00.001-07:00

Little Child Big World ~ an interview with Sue and Dwight
By Lisa McDonald
Live Music Head

Since the start of the year, you’ve been busy with your weekly Saturday afternoon gig at The Cameron House, performing at music festivals, busking at TTC subway stations, touring Winnipeg and Manitoba, not to mention East Africa and also recording a new cd. Dwight, you even hold down a day job. Are you worn out by all this, or do you find yourselves energized by your musical life?

Sue
It has been energizing this year, for sure. I’ve been concentrating mostly on the music.

Dwight
We do get to points where we feel we have more than we can handle. It’s a bit of a rollercoaster, but its stuff we like doing. And my day job is great. It allows me to travel to Africa and work with programs that do rewarding work. And the thing about music is, every time the next day starts, it’s fresh. And we find our energy in a new way.

What about writing new songs?

Dwight
Well, we try to do that too. Maybe it’s different for Sue, but I find song writing falls to the wayside the easiest, or the soonest. The business end of the work and the practicing can be done very mechanically when you’re tired, but I really need to find those moments when I’m fresh, in order to be creative. The schedule is pretty tight and sometimes those moments are harder to find. As a result, I think I’ve only written half a dozen songs since last year, where usually I’d be much more prolific.

The term “coffee house” sprang up in the 60s to describe unlicensed venues where folk singers and artists would hang out, network and perform their material, often for the first time. Was there a coffee house circuit in Winnipeg when you started out?

Sue
Our career has taken a few turns. When we first got together, we performed cover music travelling around towns and small bars in Saskatchewan. It was the 80s, and we were doing that electro-pop sort of thing with digital bass and drums.

Really? I can’t picture you doing that.

Dwight
Sue sang Madonna songs.

Sue
And Cyndi Lauper. We did that for two years before stopping to take on proper corporate jobs. In the mid-90s we moved to Toronto. Once here, we started going to open stages, like the one at The Cameron House. But we still had full time jobs, and so put music aside again for another couple of years. Since 2005, we’ve been performing music full time, playing not only Dwight’s original material, but I’ve also started writing my own songs.

Dwight
The coffee house is an interesting analogy. Folk music didn’t start there, but it certainly found a home there. I think coffee houses were everywhere in the 60s, including a place called The Riverboat in Toronto. What’s interesting now is they’re held in Starbucks type, corporate venues. We like singing in coffee houses because audiences tend to be less noisy and as a result, people listen better. I’m glad to see the folk scene coming back. But in our Winnipeg days, it was bars and lounge scenes, with bands. Not really venues for singer songwriters. The coffee houses of Winnipeg were long gone by the time we came of age in the 70s.

Reading your blog I’ve discovered a new term. Well, at least new to me. And that’s House Concerts. Is this when someone decides to throw a party and invites an artist to be the musical guest? Is this a new trend Toronto musicians are subscribing to, in addition to performing in bars and clubs?

Sue
It is a new thing. And it’s a good thing. We love it. There are circuits popping up all over Canada and the United States. Tickets are sold in advance but, unlike a bar or club, where some people aren’t there just for the music, House Concerts are the ideal venue for singer songwriters to perform and be heard. We had a fabulous time playing one this past spring, and we’d love to do more of them.

Dwight
It’s increasingly harder to play in bars. Bars aren’t often the best venue for any type of music, let alone folk music. House Concerts appeal to the over-40 crowd who may not want to go to bars. And the House Concert is a controlled environment, so you don’t have to worry about the drunks who stumble in.

But wouldn’t someone need a licence to hold this sort of thing in their home?

Sue
Right now it’s relatively new and unregulated. House Concerts are by invitation only so it’s not tickets, per se, but guests are asked for a donation. I think that’s the way around it. It’s definitely something we’d like to do more of. The environment is ideal for song writers and storytellers.

When I think of Sue and Dwight, I think of musicians who sing and write about life in Canada. But with the collection of songs on the new cd, Little Child Big World, the inspiration comes from Africa. Dwight, can you give us a bit of background on CPAR (Canadian Physicians for AIDS and Relief) and the reason behind your visits to Africa?

Dwight
I first got involved in the non-profit sector just over a decade ago. Very quickly I became interested in developing countries like Africa. When the opportunity came up to work for CPAR, I jumped at it. CPAR is a development organization which provides basic human resources to African people, so they’ll have the ability to sustain themselves. CPAR’s approach is environmental through tree planting, reforestation, rehabilitation, farming methods, and nutritional programs. CPAR has become invaluable to Africa because their farming is done in very difficult situations with poor soil, drought or no drought. There are real extremes in Africa. CPAR has gained a reputation for not being afraid to stay around for the long haul. We’ve been in Northern Uganda for over twenty years now. CPAR is respected both locally and internationally. Africa has become a special place for me. The people are wonderful and their culture and history is tremendous. It’s a place I just can’t get enough of, and want to go back as often as possible. It’s an endless source of inspiration, which is a great benefit if you happen to be a singer songwriter.

And one of the inspired songs you wrote is called Gulu. Can you tell us about that?

Dwight
Gulu has roots dating back to 2004, while I was on my first trip to Africa. While travelling with a friend, we ended up in this town called Gulu (in the middle of a Northern Uganda) during a civil war. The rebels had gone back to Sudan for a while so it was a fairly safe area, but the people were still fearful. This is when we heard about night commuters. Night commuters are kids between the ages of 8 and 14 who are prime candidates for kidnapping by the rebels. From the surrounding villages, parents would send their kids to Gulu every night so they’d be safe. The kids would wake up in the morning and walk to school, walk home for a meal after school, and then walk back to Gulu when it was time for sleep. Some of these kids would have walked 5-6 miles in one day. One night we went to an area where they would be sleeping. It was dusk, and thousands of kids emerged out of nowhere. Before the kids were put down to sleep, they’d play games and sing. It was an eerie situation. Everyone was touched by it. On the one hand, they were running away from incredible danger but on the other, all you hear is their laughter. Kids just being kids, you know? I started writing the song Gulu in 2004, and finished it in 2007. Gulu will always be that one special place among many.

If I’m not mistaken, Gulu is the song on Little Child Big World that has the sound of African drums.

Dwight
The conga drum, which is a traditional African instrument and several other types of drums were used on Gulu to create that feeling.

I really felt the African feel with that song.

Sue
Gulu was also the inspiration for So Beautiful (from the first cd, Darlings of the Open Stage). The point of the song: things may not be perfect, but we shouldn’t lose sight of what’s beautiful in life. Even kids who live in such dire situations still find joy.

And that’s exactly it. African’s have probably seen more hardships than people in Canada will ever see, yet they’re often found smiling. When communicating with the people of Africa, do you speak some of the dialects, or do you just smile a lot?

Sue
One day when Dwight was visiting a farmer out in a field with no shade, I started back to this little homestead nearby to find the wife and children of the farmer. I needed to get out of the hot sun. I didn’t speak the language and the farmer’s wife didn’t speak English, but somehow we communicated through a simple smile. Often when you come to an African community, the people will sing to welcome you. We didn’t play on previous trips, but on our most recent trip, we took a travel guitar. I don’t want to sound corny but music really is a universal language. The message can still be conveyed without understanding the words.

Dwight
Africans like to know you took the time to learn their language. So we learned the basics. There are so many dialects in Africa. In Tanzania alone there are over 130 different ethnic groups and they all have their own dialects. But to learn a few words, really does show you care and it invites open communication. I think the reason behind all the smiling is perspective. The African people live with just enough food to get them day to day. And when living day to day, they appreciate the next day. I think we lost that perspective here. In developed countries like Canada, we’re not trying to live day to day, we’re trying to get to 55 or 80. And how can you enjoy each day thinking that far ahead? You end up missing the little joys that happen. I don’t think the African people have lost that perspective, and therefore seem to enjoy life despite how dangerous it is.

Sue
And when things are nice for them, they really appreciate it. Here in Canada, we never seem to have enough. We always want more. Going to Africa has really changed my perspective. I’m much happier with less than I use to be. I’ve seen people with significantly less, and they’re still able to be thankful.

Dwight
Music’s a good analogy. You bring a bunch of people in a developed country to a musical event, and rather than just throwing themselves into the music, a number of them will say, “oh, I don’t like this music”, others will say, “oh, it’s too loud” or “it’s too crowded”. Music events in rural Africa are bunches of people standing around a tree when music suddenly breaks out, and they’re immediately engaged and joyful.

African people are very musical, aren’t they? I imagine them singing as they go about their day.

Dwight
Music is something that comes naturally to them. When they don’t have anything else, what do they do? They sing. They chant. Here in Canada, we put iPods on our heads and listen to somebody else’s music. If you walk around singing on the streets of Toronto, people will think you’re nuts.

Many of your songs are inspired by children. Can you tell us about the song, See The Little Baby?

Dwight
The song is about the contrast between here and there. One of the most common sights in Africa is little children walking beside cars driving on highways. Parents have no carriages, so their children are walking at a very young age. Children who are only six inches from the road somehow survive just fine. You’d never see that in Canada. And that impression stayed with me. The song is also about the differences in terms of food, how they wake up in the morning, and how we expect to live. There is no Freedom 55 in Africa. The average life expectancy is very seldom over 50, whereas here in Canada, we expect to reach 80, just like that.

Sue
I think with that particular song, Dwight started writing it when we were in Malawi on our last trip. Malawi had been significantly impacted by AIDS, so we saw a lot of orphans. Lots and lots of children were seen with other children, but not with any adults, because their parents had died. So that’s where See the Little Baby started.

One particular day on your last trip, the sun exposure was very intense, so refuge was sought in the back of the truck. There was no one around for a tailgate party, so Sue started her own party by strumming a guitar and singing. Can you tell us what happened next?

Sue
When anyone pulls up to an African village in a car or any vehicle, it’s pretty exciting. And when you have blonde hair and blue eyes, it only adds to the excitement. Before I knew it, kids were peering into the vehicle wanting to interact with me. One particular time, some kids followed me to the truck. I took out my guitar to sing to five or six little boys. And no matter what song I would play, there was one little guy who would always be dancing. His dancing was a gentle little march. He was the sweetest little thing. Dwight was filming the restoration of a well that had been out of commission, but he picked up on what was happening and managed to swing the camera around to capture some of it. I’m so glad he did. Although it’s a clear memory in my mind, it’s wonderful to see on video.

Sue performs in the back of the truck for African children
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t5I4zijzpwA

There was another time you were playing in the back of the truck, when a riot broke out. Can you tell us about that?

Sue
(laughter) I was sitting in the back of the truck playing some songs for the kids, when a large crowd formed and became quite excited. The kids are so beautiful, so I decided to take a picture. Taking my camera out wasn’t so much a mistake as showing them the viewfinder. When I showed the kids the viewfinder, they went wild. It was like a riot broke out. Dwight had to stop his interview to rush out and see what the ruckus was all about. (laughs)

Tell me about these interviews.

Sue
(laughs) Dwight’s role with CPAR is Director of Development and his job is fundraising. Dwight conducts and films interviews with the African people involved with CPAR programs, so donors back here in Canada can see how their money is working.

Dwight
I ask questions and our interpreter will translate. The CPAR staff who are based in Africa are not really trained interpreters, but they help.

Record stores are a dying breed here in North America, but Dwight went searching for record stores in Africa to find the Freedom cd by Lucius Banda. What are record stores like in Africa?

Dwight
When we were in Northern Uganda, there is a type of music called Acholi. It has a real reggae feel to it, and I wanted to find some of that. We had been driving with a fellow named Henry and both he and I had spotted what appeared to be a record store, so we stopped. We went in. Dvds seemed to be quite popular there, but there was only a small selection of cds. In the areas we were in, you can’t really find commercially released stuff. And most African artists have never been formally recorded. If the guy in the record store had what you wanted on his hard drive, he would make you a cd while you wait. You may get the entire cd of the artist, or you may get a mix of songs.

Are you talking specifically about local artists?

Yes. First we made a point of buying cds in Lira (Northern Uganda) before we got to Kampala (the capital city) because you can’t get northern music very easily, and the music we wanted was local to Lira and the Gulu area. Stuff you could never get on the internet. During a previous trip we had driven around Malawi hearing Lucius Banda’s new song, but it wasn’t released at that time. I tried to find it on the internet when we got home, and ended up buying an older recording through CD Baby. This trip I got the new one and a few others. But you know, buying a cd in Africa, you’re never sure if you’re getting a legitimate copy or a bootleg copy. But they will let you play it in the store before buying it, to make sure it actually plays. When we were in Malawi, we went to a high tech record store which was part electronic, part camera shop. This is where we got Lucius Banda’s new recording.

Sue
Interestingly, Lucius Banda was playing in Lilongwe (Malawi) the day after we left. It was a Sunday afternoon concert in the park, which would’ve been amazing. But we did see his tour bus on the side of the road, and that was exciting.

Have you seen any big concerts during any of your trips to Africa?

Sue
No. But Lucius Banda is an icon in Malawi, and that would have been big.

Dwight
Lucius Banda was a real political advocate for human rights and freedoms at a point when Malawi went through governmental transition. But what’s interesting, even though we haven’t seen a big show in Africa, we’ve seen so much music there. Whether it was at the opening of a new health centre or just a community welcoming, there was always music. It’s much more intimate and amazing when music breaks out in a field around a big tree, and choirs come out of nowhere.

If I’m not mistaken, the song Marching was written at a time of great inspiration for Sue. I remember hearing the song in its infancy a couple of years ago, and noting how Sue was really coming into her own as a song writer. Can you tell me how it felt singing Marching for the Women Resource Centre in Karatu (Tanzania)?

Sue
Marching is inspired by strong women I know, who’ve kept an optimistic focus on life. And this parallels most of the women we met in Africa. Women in Africa are very powerful in some ways, keeping the family together and keeping things going. CPAR does a lot of their work through women. I don’t want to suggest men in Africa aren’t responsible but traditionally, it’s the women who receive the resources and make sure they go to the right purpose. Men might not necessarily have the same focus if they were to receive the same resources.

Dwight
It’s a traditional paternal society that Africa is still emerging out of. The wife’s job is to look after the household and raise the kids. The husband is the man in power, but in rural African towns and communities, the mother is the one raising the family and looking after the farm. The fathers might get jobs doing cash crops, but then he may keep the money for himself. Organizations like CPAR understand this, and specifically target the female as the head of house.

Sue
But I don’t want the men to be seen as negative stereo types. We met plenty of men who were fully engaged in their communities and families.

Dwight
It’s not a stereotype, it’s the truth. But it is evolving.

Sue
The good thing is: the women are really strong as they move through adversity.

Marching performed by Sue and Dwight at the Women Resource Centre in Karatu (Tanzania)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=novfwL6H3DA

As a writer of songs about global warming (Mercury Rising), can you tell us what it was like travelling in a small propeller aircraft as you flew by Mt Kilimanjaro?

Sue
The song Mercury Rising was inspired by an article in the Toronto Star. The article was about the ice caps of Mount Kilimanjaro melting at an alarming rate, and the impact it was having on the people who live at the base. My friend Kim Cole called me up and said, “I just read this story and I think we need to write a song about it.” I was afraid to get on that plane. But flying by Mount Kilimanjaro at such a slow speed was amazing. It was quite moving. Had we been on a big jet plane, we would have zoomed by it. This way we were able to see it close up. Sadly, the snow caps have continued to melt. It’s a serious problem.

Dwight
What happens on Mount Kilimanjaro is a precursor of the struggle for water that could happen everywhere if we don’t look after it.

Perhaps more songs about global warming will show up on your next cd?

Sue
As a matter of fact, the first song I wrote after this most recent trip is about the drought in Northern Uganda. It’s happening right now, and it’s tragic.

Can you tell us about the characters who inspired the title track, Little Child Big World?

Sue
Back in 2007, we met an African woman who started a community group to help feed AIDS orphans. Her little boy had passed me a note that said “My name is Biggers. Will you be my friend?” And he smiled at me. When we re-visited Africa this year, we went back to that same meeting place and as I was talking with one of the CPAR members, a young boy standing nearby was staring straight at me. “Is that you Biggers?” I said. A big smile spread across his face as he came running over to give me a hug. He had grown. I’ve stayed in touch with Biggers and his mother by sending pictures and clothes.

Does Biggers know he’s one of the characters in the song?

Sue
We sang the song for them. And it was emotional when we got to the part, “Biggers has a big wide smile...” After the song ended, both Dwight and I said how tough it was to get through that part.
Biggers was a big inspiration for that song.

But this is not Biggers on the front cover of the cd?

Sue
No, that’s Fanny. She’s the first of the three children I mention in the song. Back in 2007, we had gone to a school and while Dwight was busy filming and interviewing, I was wandering around and this little girl was sticking really close to me. Wherever I went, she was only a few feet away. She had such a serious look on her face the whole time. Finally, just before we went to leave, I asked if I could take her picture and she broke out into this beautiful smile, which is the cover of the cd. It was funny because she had such a serious look on her face up till that point. She was in tattered clothes, and I don’t really know what her story was, but she made quite an impression.

Reading your blog, I found it amusing that Lionel Richie dance music was heard coming from an African wedding reception at your hotel. It’s such a completely different life from the one here, and yet similar. The work you do through CPAR and the people of Africa must enrich your life a great deal. But, you’re also enriching their lives, not just by the work CPAR is doing, but through your music. It’s a real exchange, isn’t it?

Dwight
When we broke out of our African shyness and played a song there for the first time, our friend Jean said, “They don’t see this here every day.” Surprisingly, you’ll hear Lionel Richie but to have regular people like us come and play acoustic guitars and sing right in front of them, it’s an entirely different experience.

Sue
It’s definitely been life changing. It’s usually the Africans doing the singing, but there is an exchange.
We felt truly welcome in Africa, which is a nice feeling. We attracted a lot of attention just by looking different, so I found I would say hello to everyone I came across, which is not something I would necessarily do here. You want to acknowledge people in a positive way. I may be a bit friendlier on the Toronto streets than some people, but in Africa I was even friendlier. I smiled even more.

The release of Little Child Big World is scheduled for this coming Tuesday, Sept 22nd. Can you tell us what we can expect at The Cameron House that night?

Sue
The Cameron House will be decorated with an African theme, with African souvenirs and prizes for people who purchase tickets.

Dwight
On our last cd, Darlings of the Open Stage, it was just us and Kevin Quain. But for Little Child Big World, we broadened our musical wings by bringing in Adam Warner to play drums and Shelley Cooper Smith to play violin. Kim Cole and Michelle Rumball provide backup vocals. And in addition to helping produce the cd, Kevin Quain plays accordion, bass and piano. All of the musicians on the cd will be performing with us at the release party. It’ll be a bigger sound than we normally have, and it will be a great night at The Cameron House.

Sue
All of the musicians involved with Little Child Big World are fabulous, simply the best.

Dwight
Accept no substitutes.

http://www.sueanddwight.com/
http://www.myspace.com/sueanddwight
http://www.thecameron.com/
http://www.cpar.ca/home.asp

Classic Albums Live ~ an interview with Craig Martin

2009-09-17T14:47:00.000-07:00

Classic Albums Live ~ an interview with Craig Martin
By Lisa McDonald
Live Music Head

Classic Albums Live is a Toronto-based touring outfit
consisting of 40 professional musicians
with a commitment to recreating a note for note,
cut for cut recital of some of the greatest
classic rock and pop albums of all time
Under the leadership of producer Craig Martin,
the series began in 2003
and has grown from once-a-month shows at the
Phoenix Concert Theatre in Toronto to sold out venues
across the USA with standing ovations in
Florida, Los Angeles, Las Vegas and New Jersey
CAL has not slowed down playing venues all over
Ontario and Eastern Canada but Torontonians haven’t seen
a performance held in the heart of downtown
since the series parted ways with the Phoenix
at the end of August last year
To the delight of followers of the series,
a press release issued in May announced that CAL
will perform at Massey Hall for
the very first time on Sept 26, 2009
The performance will honour the 40th anniversary
release of the Beatles Abbey Road when Classic Albums Live
performs the entire record with a 17-piece band
Mr Martin joins me now to discuss this milestone in the series

Many of the CAL alumni grew up listening to the albums you cover. Many of the alumni have seen the original artists perform at venues like Massey Hall. With the upcoming CAL show on Sept 26, was there any idea when you started the series that CAL would be performing on the Massey Hall stage only 6 years in?

Yes we did, right from the get-go, we really did. I know that sounds boastful but I remember Mike Daley spoke about it. And Doug Inglis and I had conversations about it. And my friend Desmond (Leahy) and I had long conversations about it back before I started CAL. Many of us thought the series was a sound idea and, if done properly, would translate well to the Massey Hall stage. I remember one conversation with Des where we were talking about the age group of current musicians, like Paul McCartney, members of Pink Floyd or the Zeppelin dudes, and with no disrespect intended, wondered how long they’d have the ability to play their own music. We want the original artists to hand us the torch to play their music in not only places like Massey Hall, but the Air Canada Centre and in faraway places like China. We all dreamed real big right from the very start. Not just me, but the musicians got it.

Speaking of Paul McCartney, in the film All Together Now there’s a scene where it’s announced Sir Paul will visit the set during the rehearsals of Cirque de Soleil. The cast are nervous that McCartney won’t like what they’re doing with his music. Would having an original artist like McCartney come out to see CAL perform Abbey Road at Massey Hall also be something you dreamed about from the start?

Yes absolutely. That’s part of the dream. I’ve never written these guys directly because I think it would be crass to do so. I want them to find out about us by word of mouth. I don’t want to be another lost email. I want them to come to us. And again, that’s not meant to be boastful. I just think it’s a natural organic way that this should happen.

And it’s possible, isn’t it? That Paul could come to you?

Yes it is possible. Musicians like him still go out. My friend Des goes to a pub in England and finds David Gilmour standing in the corner playing, and nobody says boo to him.

Do you think the CAL alumni would be up to the pressure knowing Paul McCartney was in the house watching CAL’s 40th anniversary recital of Abbey Road?

Absolutely and nothing would change really, if Paul was there. It would just make it more exciting. Marty (Morin) may speed up toward the end of I Want You (She’s so Heavy). Stuff like that. But McCartney should come out. All the original cats should come out to see us carry on with their music. To see us treat their music with respect.

The age range of people attending your shows would be similar in range to fans attending McCartney’s shows. Or concerts by Elton John and Bruce Springsteen, where older audiences are still attending shows and bringing their children and their grandchildren. Do you find this to be true with the CAL demographic?

Yes we’re seeing that across the board. Well, you don’t really see it in Toronto. The Phoenix Concert Theatre is not a club designed for families, but all the other theatres we play, like the Oakville Centre for the Performing Arts and St Catharines and down east, you’ll see lots of families and kids in the audience. And that’s important. I don’t know if it’s a part of your questions, but it’s something I want to talk about. In that the kids are hip to what’s going on these days. They all have their pop stars like every generation, pop stars that they love, but kids are seeking out the good stuff too. My son’s iPod list is AC/DC, Aerosmith, and The Beatles.

But wouldn’t that be your direct influence on your son?

Yes, but he’s also got Weezer in it and American Idiot. So he’s also thinking for himself, which is cool.

And I guess you learn from him as well?

Yes, but I don’t really influence him. He finds this stuff by himself. He’s able to hear songs and say, “That’s crap. This is just mindless fluff.” I mean, he doesn’t really say “mindless fluff” but he understands it for what it is. And a lot of kids do. They understand the hard sell, so consequently they’re seeking out all this music that was made before videos, when you had to use your imagination. I always talk about music made when you had to use your imagination.

So you think kids are smarter than we think?

Yes, and we see a lot of them at our shows. It’s cool.

In our parents and grandparents day, with few if any families owning a television set, let alone a computer, social activities were experienced through live bands at community dance halls. Today, more and more fans are downloading music off the internet and sharing on social networking sites like Facebook, Myspace and Twitter. Unlike the dance halls or the rock arenas where we enjoyed live music together, these internet sites seem to isolate us from direct human contact. Do you think live music will survive at some level like it has, as a means of bringing folks and communities together?

Community dance halls, yes, that’s where my own parents met. I think the arena bands are going away. You won’t see as many artists going into the ACC as you once saw. We’re already seeing that now. I think stadium rock is done. There’ll be a few to fly the flag but I think it’s going to be pretty much like you said. Like our parent’s generation, community based. There seems to be a real communal vibe right now. This recession seems to have re-set everybody to what’s important. We’re buying locally and we’re smartening up in some ways.

But don’t you find a lack of face to face communication? People are communicating on line, having typed conversations on Facebook, and sharing music on line. The world wide web and computers, just like video games and television sets before it, seem to keep folks at home, separated physically from others in the community.

These are ethical and sociological questions that I don’t really know anything about. But I’ll tell you this, people will always go see live music and people will always congregate together. They may add another Twitter type of thing every other day but people will still go out together. I believe all these technological things just give us more opportunities. We’re able to wrap things up quicker and consequently have more time to spend with other humans. I don’t think the way we use technology will have any impact on live music at all. People will communicate on line and then go rock out at a concert together. People will always get together. I know a little something about that.

You’re a musician but primarily a producer for the series. Your passion for this music and your ability to put shows together so successfully brings to mind Bill Graham, rock impresario. Is he a role model for you?

It’s funny you should bring him up. I’m reading a book about him right now for the second time. Like him, I’ve done my share of yelling and screaming. His story is a really good one. A story you can learn from. He was a business man like me, but I’m also pretty connected to the music and I get involved with the music. We don’t really do the same job, he and I, but I like the comparison (laughs).

He’s not a musician either, but you two are very similar.

Yes, right on, good. I see the comparison and I like it. I’ll do everything to encourage that. I did model myself after him. My favourite thing about Graham is you see him at something like Live Aid (1985) sweeping up the stages. You see him out there in these brown boots on the stage in between the bands. And he’s doing this himself during the biggest show in the history of the world, next to Woodstock. Watching Bill Graham sweep the stage himself made me think yes, that’s what you gotta do. I never lost sight of that. There’s nothing you can’t do. Sweep the stage, get water, make coffee, tune the guitars, and hire the right band.

A few decades ago, cover bands weren’t taken all that seriously. Cover bands were performed by friends of ours as a weekend hobby. But cover bands today are touring most of the year, charging as much for a ticket as some of the original acts. Not only do bands like RAIN sell out venues across North America performing Beatles music, but bands like Cheap Trick got together earlier this year to perform the entire Sgt Pepper record in Las Vegas. Phish’s current tour had polls running for fans to guess which album they’d cover in its entirety at their Festival 8 shows. What is it with cover bands and bands that cover classic albums that remains this popular? And with competition like this, does it keep CAL on their toes honouring the music with a perfect note for note recital?

Well no, we’re nothing like these bands to be honest with you. I mean, a lot of them have taken my idea. I mean, if I wasn’t the first to come up with the idea, I’m certainly the first to bring performing albums in their entirety, to the forefront. There may have been pockets of bands doing similar things before me like The Music Box, who I didn’t realize were doing the whole Music Box album until much later when I was researching Genesis. But I’m the first one to do what we’re doing now. But we still have nothing in common with these bands anyway. We have more in common with orchestras, like the TSO, the Boston Pops and the London Philharmonic. Those are the bands we have the most in common with. It’s the orchestras that do exact recitals, the same as we do. They’re the ones that keep us on our toes. We blow these other bands out of the water. Line ‘em up and we’ll blow them straight out of the water. We’ll show you who the real players are. We’re not a tribute band. We don’t dress up.

But CAL is a cover band.

The same as the TSO, baby. And like the London Philharmonic.

What about old school cover bands, like you yourself played with in bars around Scarborough back in the day?

They were good times. Those were really good times. I mean, we went out and played six nights a week. We’d have Sundays off and spend them driving to our next gig. We played non-stop for fifty bucks a week. It was a great life but that was 1980. I think the days of the old cover bands, the glory days anyway, are long gone.

But cover bands still seem popular.

Cover bands aren’t that popular. Their grafts will go up a little bit, but they’re not doing the numbers like they use to.

All the same, they weren’t playing Massey Hall back in 1980 either.

None of them will be playing Massey Hall now. Massey Hall is ours. Massey Hall won’t be booking any of those other bands, which is cool.

So you’re telling me CAL has exclusivity?

Kind of, yes. It’s cool. And it’s heavy.

Last year CAL strayed from classic rock to cover classic pop. With the successful recitals of Michael Jackson’s Thriller and Prince’s Purple Rain, do you think you will cover more classic albums outside of the rock world and if so, which ones?

We’ll definitely go back to Michael Jackson this year, big time. But we’re only doing it in the States. Our Canadian market isn’t biting. In the States they’re asking for the Thriller show. Their audiences want to come out and remember Jackson in a cool way. So we’re getting a lot of work from that. We’re also launching a Woodstock show (also celebrating a 40th anniversary this year) and it’s been a tough one because when you think about it, you have the Woodstock 1 album and the Woodstock 2 album and then there’s the movie, and none of these three things are the same. And now there’s the new re-released movie with extra footage. So you’ve got a total of something like 8 hours to choose from and we clearly can’t do an eight hour show. I mean we could, but we won’t. I have to do revisionist history, I think. I’m going to take the best bits and put them together for a nice cohesive two hour show along with the announcements. It’s going to be a departure for us, and I’m concerned about that because it is different from what we regularly do.

It would be different because there’ll be surprises.

Yes, there’ll be surprises and the key may possibly be in changing the set list from town to town. It might be something we do for a tour. My agent here in Canada doesn’t like it because it takes us away from what we’re known for, and he’s exactly right. He’s very Canadian and likes to say, “We know how this works, so let’s keep with that.” Whereas my American agent is very American and will say, “Let’s go, let’s make some money, and let’s get it out there. If these guys want it, let’s give it to them. We’ll fly it up the flagpole.” It’s a very strange dynamic between the two of them. But it's interesting and indicative of their respective countries.

But wait, Woodstock is still classic rock. I’m talking about classic pop.

I want to do Radiohead’s OK Computer again. No one else wants to do it. But I do.

But that’s not pop either. I’m talking pop.

Michael Jackson for now, but it may be fun to do the Prince album again.

What about Marvin Gaye or Stevie Wonder? Weren’t they in the running?

We’ll see what happens but that’s a new crowd and another left turn for our regular crowd. We learned with the Michael Jackson and Prince shows here in Toronto that our regular crowd wouldn’t make the jump for either of them, which I thought was crazy. I mean, you didn’t even go. Our crowd didn’t think they’d be into these records. Yet they’re both incredible works of music. Both are classic albums that hold their own against Zep IV and Dark Side of the Moon. Michael Jackson’s album is Quincy Jones and he’s a motherfucker, man. I mean, it was like going back to school learning Thriller. And the Purple Rain album? Prince thinks like nobody else.

It’s imperative to have younger fans coming to the shows to keep the music alive. But as the man behind CAL’s marketing and who decides the players for each CAL band, is it difficult to market this music to younger fans? And is it difficult to keep the CAL alumni pool fresh with young musicians who probably never grew up with this music, but who have a desire to play it?

Good question. Finding the right musicians is hard. I’d like to see some younger musicians come in, and I know they’re out there. But we got it to a point now where it’s my duty to keep the guys we already have, employed. I got a core of about 35 musicians who’ve been with me from the get-go. We respect each other. There’s a great deal of respect between us, so just to bring in a younger musician to take their gig would be a big deal. But I do want younger musicians, so I’m in a quandary. It’s a line I’ve got to ride. I’m hoping to get more shows to start a whole other branch where I can use other musicians and start getting a bigger pool, but I don’t want to jump the gun or shoot myself in the foot. The most important thing is keeping the quality of it. So you see the quandary I’m in. As for the first part of your question, it is very difficult to market because we take so much explaining. It’s like a run on sentence, not a tight little sound byte. But what we got going for us is people will come to the show out of curiosity or confusion. We’ve had people show up thinking we’re going to play the record to a light show. But what happens after they see us is they talk about it. They talk about it, just like we do. And explain it to other people.

Are there young people coming to your shows?

Young, old, tall, small and skinny. All kinds, really. A great demographic of society. But I wish we got more black people out.

James Brown couldn’t get many black people out in his later years. And I remember Tracey Chapman during her tour with Amnesty Int’l, making the comment, “where’s my people?” Black people don’t come out in numbers for these kinds of shows. I’m not sure why but I assume they’re with the hip hop crowd and rap audiences. But the music you’re playing wouldn’t necessarily appeal to the black community anyway, would it?

Well, it’s soul music, right? It’s all music from the soul.

But it’s not soul music. If you were playing soul music, you’d be performing classic records by James Brown, Aretha Franklin or Sly and the Family Stone.

We’ll be doing Sly and the Family Stone as part of the Woodstock show. But I think all the records we do have so much fucking soul. It’s all soul music to me.

Was there not a noticeable black component at your Michael Jackson and Prince shows?

Not so much at the Michael Jackson show, but we did see it at the Prince show. I would like to see the same black people come out for our Fleetwood Mac shows, you know? And our Led Zeppelin shows. I want everybody coming all the time. That’s my goal, and to get the brothers out.

According to the dates posted on your website, CAL has dates in Eastern Canada and all across North America. But there doesn’t seem to be any dates for Western Canada. Will CAL eventually play Vancouver or Calgary? And do you foresee at some point taking CAL to venues in European cities?

We’re going to the province of Alberta. We’re going to do four or five shows there, every three or four months. We’ve been there before to put our feet in the water. But frankly, it’s expensive to do business out west. We want to, but again, what we do takes a lot of explaining. So we have to make sure we have all the right people in place before I invest money in it. I need to build it slow to do it properly. But there is a plan to turn Alberta into a solid tour base. The same way we got it going on down east. We have played Vancouver in the past. We’ve been to the Commodore. It was tough there man, they don’t give you anything. It costs a lot of money to go over the Rockies. We did Dark Side of the Moon there and it did very well. They papered the room. They gave tickets away to everybody. People’s jaws hit the ground, and they went nuts. We were asked to come back but I lost money. I don’t want to lose money. I don’t like losing money. It’s not good for me, the musicians or anything.

So what’s the real difference between the east coast and the west coast?

My agent. He’s got real relationships on the east coast. And now the agency he’s with has relationships on the west coast, so that’s going to help. We’re also working on South Africa for next summer. Yes, we’re going to South Africa next summer. I also want to do England. But the best way to tour England is to take all our guitars, drums, amps and put them in a van and ship the van over. And then Johnny B, our tour manager can fly to England, pick up the van with all our shit and pick us up too, and off we go. I figure it’ll be cheaper than renting all that stuff from over there. Again, with England you’re going to blow money out your pockets. Everywhere you go in England, you can watch the money go firing out. So, I’ll wait a bit. We’ll get there eventually.

South Africa sounds very exciting. But I guess you can’t really go by the old models in rock and roll history when it comes to touring. Things change.

We run into problems with other languages. We were finally making some roads into Quebec, but it breaks down to language. I mean, there’s a language barrier. Classic Albums what? That kind of thing.

1969 was a big year in music history and many events like Woodstock and the anniversary of Abbey Road will be marked with celebrations this year. If CAL is still around to celebrate their own 40th anniversary, do you think any original music being produced today will be worthy of a note for note, cut for cut recital in the year 2049?

American Idiot by Green Day would be a worthy album and Bob Dylan’s Modern Times. I think Dylan’s legacy won’t really hit for another 15 years. Modern Times will have a re-birth. And I, singlehandedly, have probably sold more copies of the Modern Times record than anybody else. I mean, before a CAL show, I have that album playing. And I just stand at the sound board and wait. It only takes till the second song, Spirit of the Water, before somebody comes over to ask me, “Who is this? What album is this?”

So why hasn’t CAL covered a Dylan record yet?

Oh I don't know, but I do want to go on record as saying, “I sold more copies of Modern Times for Bob Dylan than anyone else” (laughs)

Dylan may even come to a show if you did one of his records. He comes here often. I mean, he’s even played the Phoenix. I think you should do Infidels.

I’m more a Free Wheelin' type of guy, but Highway 61 would be the album. It’s never been played properly with that jangling guitar. That’s the one we’d do, for sure.

It’s very exciting to be playing Massey Hall, not only for the series, but for the city of Toronto and it’s community of Beatle fans.

Massey Hall is good. And it's the CAL musicians who will make the Abbey Road anniversary special. They are the world's best musicians.

Are all the musicians involved with the Massey Hall show Canadian?

No, I have a few musicians flying in from the States, a couple of horn players and a string player. But out of the 17 musicians involved, 14 are Canadian.

Sept 26th will be a very special night for everyone. Now, I wonder where I can find Paul McCartney’s direct contact information...

Classic Albums Live official website
http://www.classicalbumslive.com/
For tickets to the Abbey Road show at Massey Hall
http://www.masseyhall.com/home.cfm

Paul McCartney ~ Late Show with David Letterman

2009-07-17T18:20:00.000-07:00

Paul McCartney ~
Late Show with David Letterman
July 15, 2009

I felt like a school girl
last night,
brimming over with excitement as I
watched Paul McCartney make his first guest appearance
on the Late Show with David Letterman.
Not only am I an enormous fan of The Beatles,
but I’m an enormous fan of David Letterman.
I go to bed with Dave almost every night.
And to finally see Paul McCartney on the program,
well,
not only was it exciting for music fans,
but it must have given the other talk show hosts
a helluva run
for their late night television ratings.
Many viewers, I’m sure
were remembering the very first time
McCartney appeared in the Ed Sullivan Theatre
back in 1964, when the Beatles performed
in front of an astounding 73 million viewers.
My older sister watched
and when the baby Beatles shook their mop tops,
and sang all over our black and white television set,
my sister screamed her head off.
But being I was only 1 at the time,
I can’t really say I remember any of that.
But like so many others,
Beatle music went on to become the soundtrack of my life.
And it still is.
How many other pop artists today, can you say that about?
Despite gravity pulling down on the skin of those cute
McCartney cheeks,
Paul, at the age of 67
still has a boyishness about him.
And with that playful wit,
he still carries a slender physique.
But I have to ask,
who was responsible for the Late Show interview questions?
Most of the chat between Dave and Paul
was about Beatle history we’ve all heard
and heard only a million times already.
Not that I ever tire of hearing the same old Beatle stories,
but The Beatles every move is so tremendously documented.
I just think the Late Show writers could’ve done a better job of it.
As I watched McCartney take the marquee stage
to perform his allotted two songs after the interview,
memories of my own came flooding back.
Not from when I was 1 in 1964,
but back to the month of May, in the year 2004.
When my then-boyfriend and I travelled to New York City
and were fortunate enough to get tickets as audience members
for the Late Show with David Letterman.
And what an experience it was!
Arriving at the Ed Sullivan Theatre 3 hours before the taping,
we met Dave’s processed meat platter ladies,
bought the t-shirt and the coffee mug at the CBS store,
and over a sandwich, we even got to meet Rupert Jee
standing behind his counter at the Hello Deli.
All this happened before hundreds of us were rounded up
and taken across the street to the Roseland Ballroom
for the Late Show staff to prepare us;
to give us all lessons on how to laugh...
laugh out loud, that is!
Because when we were asked to think about it,
The Late Show wranglers were right.
Audience members who laugh on the inside
just don’t translate very well
in front of millions of television viewers.
The crew’s exuberance in their lesson was infectious
and as a result,
they got exactly what they wanted;
a very enthusiastic audience for the taping that day.
Racing down the aisle of the Theatre once we were admitted,
my partner and I landed in the third row
directly beside the program announcer, Alan Kalter.
I was brimming over with school girl excitement, I tell ya.
After all, we were inside the historic Ed Sullivan Theatre!
But had Paul McCartney been the musical guest that day,
not only would I have screamed like my older 1964 sister,
but I would have cried my bloody eyes out!
Instead of McCartney, we got another musical icon.
One from the country and western kind
when the American coal miner’s daughter, Loretta Lynn
joined Jack White and the Do Whaters
right there on the Ed Sullivan stage
alongside Paul Shaffer and the CBS Orchestra.
I myself am a Coal Miner's Granddaughter,
so I loved every f^%king second of it!
Sometimes I wish I never had this experience
because I would love to do it all over again
for the very first time.
So being such a big fan of the Late Show,
Letterman, McCartney and New York City,
the question I ask myself is...
“Why the hell wasn’t I standing on Broadway yesterday…
with everyone else as they stared up at McCartney?”
I’m an idiot, that’s why!
Because immediately following the 2 song performance,
fans on the street were treated to a mini concert
as Paul continued to rock the marquee
for another ½ hour after the tv broadcast ended.
Not being there in person really sucked,
but fortunately folks at home
were allowed to view this mini-concert
in the wee hours of the morning,
compliments of Mr Letterman’s page at the CBS website.
We all watched McCartney sing Helter Skelter at the age of 67,
and for that,
God bless him!
And CBS having teamed up with Facebook,
I got caught up in the instantaneous posts and commentary
reading what everyone else was saying at the same time
we all watched the performance together.
It was distracting,
but hell, I too posted a slew of comments.
I just couldn’t help myself.
The interactive technology is incredible!
McCartney on the Late Show marquee,
with folks hanging off New York windows and balconies,
was very exciting indeed.
And what about that Abe Laboriel?
One helluva drummer, eh?
Out of the five mini concert songs the band did,
I would have to say the highlight for me was
Let Me Roll It.
I just love the guitar in that song.
But I also loved the organ in this version.
So once again, who can deny
the old timers can still rock?
McCartney and his band brought smiles
to so many faces yesterday,
on an otherwise uneventful Wednesday.
Here’s to ya Mr Letterman,
and to the great city of New York...
America f&^king rocks!
And to Paul McCartney... you old timer you.
I bet you’ll still be rocking well into your 80s.
And for that, I say….
Thank you, thank you, thank you!

Paul McCartney performs Let Me Roll It
atop the Ed Sullivan Theatre marquee...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T0DRgJV2Gec&feature=related

The Late Show with David Letterman
http://lateshow.cbs.com/latenight/lateshow/