29 March 2013 (Day 88) – A Day For Reflection

It’s Good Friday the one day of the year where I do not think about playing music, at least until well into the afternoon.  This reflects my Catholic upbringing and education and the influence of “M”.

I’ve been fortunate in that my religious upbringing and views have never brought me into conflict with my choice of listening matter.  There has rarely being an instance where I’ve felt my faith being challenged by a song or musician.  It’s all a question of context; I simply don’t read lyrics on a page and get outraged. Sometimes I understand that the musician is playing a role.  I can remember one of my religious teachers launching an attack on Alice Cooper in class.  Even then I understood that Alice was a character and that he was drawing inspiration from horror movies and the like.  I also understand that some artists have views that they work into their music but I realise all they’re doing is trying to express their own inner feelings and are not necessarily seeking to convert the listener.  It’s easy to tell the difference; those seeking to convert the unconverted are usually fanatics in the first place and thus put the message first and the music second.  Inevitably, with very few exceptions, they turn out to be quite boring.

I also generally do not seek to endorse or condemn any musician for their chosen lifestyles.  As I see things, musicians are no different to any other group in society be they actors, painters, authors, footballers, politicians or priests.  In each of these groups there will be individuals who will break the law and commit unspeakable deeds.  All are in positions within society which gives them the opportunity to influence others through their actions but to single out any one group to the exclusion of others is simply unfair.

Certainly there are some musicians out there who produce entire bodies or work or individual albums, songs, verses or lines with which I disagree.  But we do live in a society that encourages freedom of expression and there are various ways that I can respond.  I can choose to ignore the musician with the body of work with which I disagree.  There are songs on albums that I can skip on the CD player and there are verses or lines that I can simply ignore.  Obviously the situation would be different if I were a parent but I would hope that I’d understand that no amount of parental supervision and positive action is going to shield my child away from music I might not agree with. (Well, I’d try to shield him or her from some acts but this would be purely on musical grounds.) But such concerns also apply to anything in the modern word – TV programs, news reports, radio airplay lists, video games, internet use etc.  All I think I could do is to take the action I think is appropriate, educate the child as to why I think this action is necessary and develop their critical mindset so that they can eventually take what I hope will be a responsible decision.

The absolutely worst thing to do, I think, for anything attractive to kids is, unless what’s being espoused is illegal, to seek to ban something without explanation.   From what I’ve seen in my life all this does is to turn the item into forbidden fruit that children then actively attempt to seek out.  And the explanations better make relative sense.  The attack on Alice Cooper I mentioned previously, made by one a religious Brother went something like this; “Now look at that Alice Cooper and what he’s doing.  He’s coming into town, makes you pay money to see him and then he leaves.”  That was just about it; I remember everybody looking at each other in class thinking, “Is he arguing that it is a sin to hold a concert?”  A few nights later I stayed up late to watch a TV screening of the Welcome To My Nightmare concert movie and still couldn’t figure out what the Brother was on about.  The key thing here was that I hadn’t planned on watching it until the Brother voiced his concerns. 

There are some things that I would never choose to listen to under any circumstances, for example, anything deliberately racist or sexist (both with exclusions for time bound “historical” recordings such as that found in 1920s or 1930s blues or Americana), promoting Satanism (and which doesn’t have a nudge and a wink attached) or sacrilegious (that is, anything which deliberately sets out to mock people’s religious beliefs). But mostly these would probably belong to extreme musical genres, such as Norwegian death metal, that I won’t think of exploring in the first place. 

By the time we returned from church, it was time for our time honoured Easter tradition. “M”and I sat down to indulge in our annual viewing of Ben Hur with Charlton Heston. (Now there’s a good anology – should I ban watching Ben Hur because of Heston’s support for guns?)  By the time that finishes I discover there will be a 9.30 screening of the greatest film in Hollywood history – The Godfather.  What the hell it’s doing screening on Good Friday has me beaten but it ensures a music free day other than for its memorable score.

28 March 2013 (Day 87) – The Soothing Sounds Of Iggy Pop

A new day dawns with no euphoric release of a Springsteen or Stooges gig to come.  The period around Easter is arguably the busiest time of the concert year with many acts bound for the Byron Bay Festival and others getting ready for the Northern Hemisphere summer passing through town.  Melbourne easily copes with this influx due to its massive range of venues; although I doubt it, I read somewhere a couple of years back of a claim that only Austin Texas surpasses it.  But music is just about the furthest thing from my mind as “M” and I have a medical appointment which has us both on edge.

At work I do everything I can to keep my mind busy, a hard enough thing to do when you’re on the cusp of a four day break.  Making things worse is that Jack has already started a short break and I’m all alone in my office.  I bury myself in work, attend a couple of meetings and otherwise do everything possible to avoid thinking about our situation.  

Instead of a tea break, I check in with my colleagues who attended last night’s Springsteen gig; they have the same sense of shock and awe. The set list turns out to be an incredibly diverse one but I still think I got the best night.  I check also with another colleague who attended the Stooges gig.  She was in the mosh pit and reported that the first thing on her mind on returning home was a shower.  As she’s in a happy but tired state, I interpret this as a reference to last night’s hot and steamy conditions rather than ironic commentary regarding Iggy’s state or the lyrical content.

And it is to Iggy that the task of keeping me company falls.   I decide on not playing Raw Power as I heard most of that last night and dive into what I can only describe as the soothing side of the Iggy solo catalogue and select his first live album:

(245) Iggy Pop - TV Eye Live 1977

….or, as most people refer to it, “The live album of the tour where David Bowie played keyboards in his backing band”.  It’s a mixture of Stooges and solo material and the defining feature is the existence of the keyboards, especially on the Stooges tracks.  They have such a distinctive feel that anyone with a basic knowledge of Bowie’s output in this period would automatically recognise it as his work. Naturally it’s the tracks that Bowie produced with Pop which work best, Funtime and Nightclubbing in particular.  How you react to the Stooges material will depend on how sacrosanct you regard the originals. 

(246) Iggy Pop – The Idiot

Just about the only serious statement Iggy made on his legendary Countdown appearance (just type in Iggy Pop and Countdown into YouTube and you’ll be spoilt for choice) was that David Bowie taught him “to compromise” musically.  Compared to The Stooges, Iggy’s first solo album The Idiot, is not merely a compromise but a near total conversion into what was to become Bowie’s Berlin period.  Although Iggy contributed to writing of all tracks, it is sometimes difficult to avoid the sense that Bowie was using the process to test ideas for his eventual trilogy.  Despite this, it is a fine album with Iggy’s voice providing a fine counterpoint to the simmering synth lines.  The entire original side 1 of the original vinyl release -  Sister Midnight/Nightclubbing/Funtime/Baby - and the original version of China Girl –passes so effortlessly that it sounds almost like a suite.

My mind works in mysterious ways.  I’ve never been able to subscribe to the notion of “mood music”. If anything, everything works in reverse; chill out music makes me want to scream; quiet meditative stuff makes me feel anxious; I can’t sleep in silence and extremely loud music makes me relax.  I could just as easily play Sun 0))) or Boris on a Sunday morning as I would a gospel or acoustic number and the last time I was getting ready for a Saturday night on the town, I played Neu!  Although I thought, as I wrote earlier this year, that I’d like to start my work day with something not too loud or demanding, this blog provides more than enough evidence to the contrary. 

Yet, by the time I’ve finished these Iggy albums, my ability to concentrate on anything, let alone work, has become almost impossible.   My Manager, who I’ve briefed about my situation, checks in on me and graciously allows me to go for the day and I get to the late lunctime appointment.  “M” joins me shortly afterwards.  The word from the specialist is extremely encouraging and is enough to ensure we’ll have a reasonably happy holiday period.  We do some shopping, go home, turn on the television and see the dreadful news of a wall collapse at a construction site that looks to have claimed the lives of a couple of people who happen to be walking by.  It makes us appreciate our situation all the more and spend the rest of the evening close to each other.

27 March 2013 (Day 86) – Gig # 701 Iggy And The Stooges

“M” and I awake to face another day.  If this was an ordinary day I’d be desperately attempting to source a ticket for tonight’s third Springsteen show.  But what are the chances of that topping yesterday’s extravaganza?  In any case, Mickey will be there tonight so I know I’ll receive a full report at the footy on Saturday.

At work, I talk to colleagues who went to the first night and others who will go to tonight’s show.  The sense of satisfaction/excitement among all is palpable.  Another colleague sadly rings me to ask if I know someone who wants to buy her ticket to Hanging Rock on Saturday due to unexpected circumstances. (She, understandably, point blank refuses to allow me to discuss my experience.)  I briefly consider taking it and going with one of my siblings but decide against it.  After all “M” would want to go as well.   My office mate Jack is also looking forward to the evening as he holds tickets for Wilco at Hamer Hall.  Ordinarily, I’d be jealous but tonight I know I’ve got the pick of the night – Iggy And The Stooges.  

By my reckoning this will be my third experience of The Stooges, the second with James Williamson in the band and the first in full concert mode.  The first occasion was a killer hour slot at the 2006 Big Day Out when, with Ron Ashton on board, they gleefully stomped all over the Fun House album and scarred the wits out of the Franz Ferdinand, Kings Of Leon and White Stripes dilettantes in the audience.  Sadly, Ron had died by the time they returned for the 2011 Big Day Out but still did the business on a stinking hot day this time educating the waiting Rammstein fans about the true meaning of Raw Power.

I’d also seen Iggy on at least 4 occasions prior to that going all the way back to both Melbourne dates on his 1989 Instinct Tour.  All were memorable, none more so than his gig which brought in 1998 at The Falls Festival in Lorne.   After a couple of decent tracks from the Naughty Little Doggie album, he brought in the new year with a countdown and roaring versions of Search And Destroy followed by Raw Power (or was it the other way round?).  It couldn’t have been coincidental that 1998 turned out to be the most memorable year of my life before “M”.  Every show with Iggy has been a memorable one – you could never accused him of being dull - and he remains to this day my favourite live performer, Springsteen included.

It was another full day at work.  I had planned on playing through Iggy’s Bootleg Collection titled Roadkill Rising today, but the weight of commitments made this impossible.  Instead I only had time to indulge in a spot of historical revisionism:

(243) The Stooges – Self Titled

(244) The Stooges – Fun House (collector’s edition)

It is impossible to underestimate the impact of these two albums plus Raw Power on the Australian independent music scene.  The Velvet underground and the MC5 can rightly claim some credit, but realistically without The Stooges, seminal and influential acts such as Radio Birdman and The Saints would not have been formed.  To get a measure of how ingrained these albums are in Australia’s musical DNA, go to any pub on any given night in especially, Melbourne, Sydney and Adelaide and chances are high that any number of bands will include tracks such as I Wanna be Your Dog, No Fun, Loose, TV Eye, Dirt (as well as Raw Power’s title track and Search And Destroy) in their sets.  These are uncompromising albums performed by musicians committed to the music and the lifestyles they espoused seemingly without worrying whether these would sell.  This is the definition of art.  But unlike many artists, the majority of its members have lived to see the overwhelming evidence of their influence as their musical visions bore fruit.   Whilst elements of the Velvet Underground’s and The MC5’s work have been influential, it’s been the Stooges that have held sway.   Put it this way: The Velvet Underground provided the intellectual road map for the today’s independent music scene, The MC5 attempted to write its political manifesto but it was The Stooges who created The Idiot’s Guide that has enabled generations to follow in their wake.

I head off to Melbourne’s most despised concert venue, Festival Hall in West Melbourne adjoining the new Docklands precinct.  The original building was a boxing arena which burnt down in circa 1955 and was rebuilt for the 1956 Olympics.  It is a rectangular barnlike structure with uncomfortable fixed seats on either end.  The area between them in front of the stage is now a permanent general admission area come mosh pit.  It has a foreboding 1950s feel, in the main, terrible acoustics and is a sweatbox on hot days.  Promoters never advertise additional shows by the same act at smaller venues until this venue sells out, knowing full well that if given a chance punters will choose the other venue.

I get there early because the support act is the legendary Beasts Of Bourbon in their original line up. They give a pretty good account of themselves, Tex Perkins in full flight as usual, but from my seat on the side, they don’t seem to have connected as well with the audience as I would have expected.  Still it was expertly arranged 45 minute set featuring many of the high spots of their repotaire including Chase The Dragon, The Low Road, their version of The Rolling Stones’ Cocksucker Blues and Let’s Get Funky.

Gig # 701 – Iggy And The Stooges – Festival Hall, West Melbourne

Iggy  Pop enters the stage just as the band starts with Raw Power, the perfect opener, leading into a pretty good Gimme Danger.  Already, its clear that The Stooges are benefitting from a crisper mix and more powerful volume than the Beasts.  (And, to be fair, acoustically it is one of the better sounding shows I’ve experienced there.)  Two completely new songs follow.  The first is introduced by Iggy as Burn and is merely OK.  The other, attributed on internet set lists as Gun, is much better.

Iggy then calls for 1970 (I Feel Alright) and the band deliver a tight version with Williamson playing with a much greater ferocity than in 2011.  The title track of Fun House follows with the obligatory crowd invasion.  It is the night’s disappointment as the band’s attempts to improvise around the on stage activity fails to amount to much.  Beyond The Law is much better.

Then the show absolutely explodes.  A solid Search And Destroy is followed by an amazing rendition of Johanna full of unexpected menace.  The title track of the Williamson/Pop Kill City album is next which segues into Cock In My Pocket.    All stops are pulled out for an inspired I Wanna Be Your Dog, complete with Iggy withering on the floor, with barely a breath before the main set closer with No Fun.

The encore maintains the attack starting with Penetration and continuing with I Got A Right at full throttle.  Another new song is introduced by Iggy Dirty (or Top 30) Deal.  It’s lyrics contemptuous of the music industry and its musical backing reminds me of tracks from Iggy’s Beat ‘Em Up album.  Your Pretty Face Is Going To Hell is fine and the night ends with Open Up And Bleed.  Iggy, sweat dripping from absolutely every pore is the first to leave, leaving the instrumental trio to kick up an unholy racket.  Eventually Williamson departs, feedback spitting from his guitar as the rhythm section of ex Minuteman Mike Watt and Scott Ashton on drums get some well-deserved recognition.  Eventually, Watt throws his bass away and they walk off.

It’s a pretty impressive show all the more so for what hasn’t been played.  (There is no Loose, Dirt, Down On The Street, 1969, TV Eye among others but many of these are from the pre Williamson era.)  Iggy is as charismatic as ever, even if unable to sustain some of his basic moves now for any extended period of time.  Williamson is fine albeit non flashy guitarist, Watt is exactly the type of bass player this band requires whilst Asheton is a fine visual foil to Iggy.

I return to my car happy with the choice I’ve made.  Let’s face it; you can’t always drive down the freeway in a pink Cadillac but you won’t lose much by going down on the street.

26 March 2013 (Day 85) – Gig # 700 Bruce Springsteen And The E Street Band

I awake.  It takes a nanosecond to realise what “M” has been referring as “Bruceday” has arrived.

As we’ll be operating under a tight time frame after work, I set to work on a range of what are effectively last minute actions – locate my tickets, gather my digital camera, check and double check its batteries are fully charged, find my ear plugs, etc.  In the car to work “M” and I discuss our strategy for dinner, travel to the gig and parking without resolving anything.  I drop her off at work and continue to mine thinking about the coming show.  Specifically, I wonder whether Bruce has any memories about his previous gigs in Melbourne…

Tonight will be my fifth Springsteen gig all of which have been in Melbourne during the current and 3 previous tours.  So far the most memorable were the two of the three shows at the intimate Palais Theatre in February 1997 on the Ghost Of Tom Joad tour.   These were solo acoustic shows, each magnificent demonstrations of Bruce’s songwriting and his rapport with the audience.  The audience at both, comprising the hard core Bruce fans, were awestruck.

That tour marked the only time I’d had any form of contact with The Boss.  Having received a tip, I stuck around in the stalls after the final show.  After most of the audience had departed, Bruce peaked out from behind the curtain returned to the lip of the stage and greeted us.  I had my vinyl copy of the Born To Run cover and a biro hoping for an autograph.  Bruce reached out to me first and stuck out his hand and I shook it, marking the only few seconds we have met on the road.  He then reached to the guy next to me, who held a marker pen and the Darkness cover, and signed THAT.  (Memo to self and you out there: if you want an album cover signed, ensure that it is of Darkness.  And take that marker pen.)

Yet, however memorable the acoustic gigs were, Melbourne and Bruce and the E Street Band have had, what I would term, an interesting relationship. Initially it was notable for how long it took for that relationship with the both city and the nation to be consummated. 

Bruce’s first tour of Australia was in 1985 meaning Australian audiences had missed out on previous tours, especially the epic ones in support of Born To Run and Darkness.  As a result, rabid fans like me and the-Bruce-fan-formally-known-as-MJ (he now wants to go under the name of Mulder) missed out on all of the thrills with which he made his reputation as a live performer.  For all our devotion we had not witnessed the piano only versions of Thunder Road, or the 20 minute plus versions of Kitty’s Back, or the Detroit Medley or the version of Prove It All Night with the lengthy intro as played on the Darkness tour.  Rosalita never came out.  All we were left with were bootlegs, the live footage from the No Nukes film and that single filmed performance of Rosalita which we’d all watched incessantly once the VCR was invented.

My thinking was then interrupted by my arrival at work.  Fortunately I had a few meetings during the day including a lengthy one off site to keep my mind occupied.  But these initial thoughts influenced the selection of the one album I played in total during the day:

(242) Bruce Springsteen & The E Street Band – Hammersmith Odeon, 75

The origins of this album go back to a film of Bruce’s first show on his debut European tour which finally surfaced as a DVD on the 30^th Anniversary release of Born To Run.  This CD version was released a few months afterwards.  It is a marvellous document of the band during that era containing, yes, the piano Thunder Road, a lengthy Kitty’s Back, Rosalita (Come Out Tonight) and the Detroit Medley.  Other mainstays of the era including his cover of Gary U.S Bonds’ Quarter To Three, Jungleland and Backstreets are also included.  The DVD version in the box set though is the way to experience this performance.

Yet, despite the magnificence of the live performances I’ve heard or seen from around the world over nearly 40 years, unfortunately, the two gigs I’ve seen with the band raise mixed emotions. There are a number of factors that account for this, only some of which were out of Bruce’s control.  Put another way, I’d always felt that something was missing.

The first band show I attended was the second (and last) Melbourne date on the Born In The U.S.A. tour on 4 April 1985. (In an amazing coincidence to this year, it occurred just a month or so after the epic debut Neil Young/International Harvesters/Crazy Horse gigs.  Another coincidence with this year:  the 1985 shows also occurred in the week leading into Easter.)  This tour occurred at the absolute zenith of Bruce’s fame here and the demand for tickets was intense. Despite being just about the first act to charge more than $20AUS for a gig, the first night – 50,000 tickets – sold out in less than 2 hours before I got even close to the counter at the ticket office. 

Therein lay a couple of issues; first there was then no concert venue in Melbourne capable of holding such a crowd given the unavailability of the 100,000 seater Melbourne Cricket  Ground and the 75,000 seater (now demolished) VFL Park owing to the start of the Australian Rules football season.  Instead the shows were held at the Royal Melbourne Showgrounds in the middle of residential Flemington and to which strict curfews and noise limits applied.  In Springsteen history, the two Melbourne shows were, I think, only the third and fourth occasions the band had played a headlining gig outdoors and the first gig was probably the biggest crowd they’d played before up to that point. And to make things harder for the Melbourne audience to bear, the Sydney based promoter scheduled additional shows there at the indoor Sydney Entertainment Centre.

The Melbourne crowd was filled with people who become fans solely on the strength of the Born In The U.S.A album and knew little of the rest of his catalogue apart from the Born To Run, Hungry Heart and The River singles.  This meant the set list was compromised in their favour with even Born In The U.S.A. B-sides played in preference to earlier material.  It is arguable whether this won them over in any case.  I remember, for example, some new fans dressed up as though they were going to a disco chatting to themselves at interval and comparing the show unfavourably to Spandau Ballet who were in town that week.  In terms of epic tracks, the last thing I expected, or as it turned out wanted, was a 10 minute version of Cover Me.  A total of only two tracks (Born To Run and Thunder Road) was played from the first three albums including nothing from the first two.  Bruce’s decision to drop Rosalita as a permanent fixture from his set started with that Australian tour.  Surely he could have waited?  Covers of Trapped, Can’t Help Falling In Love, Twist And Shout and Rockin’ All Over The World were nice but they essentially couldn’t disguise this was a band coming to grips with a larger, outdoor stage and a less than fanatical audience whilst still in the process of integrating Patti Scialfa and Nils Lofgren.  It was a great show by many standards but only a good one by Bruce standards.

But the 1985 gig was nothing compared to the relative disaster that was the 20 March 2003 show on The Rising Tour at the Telstra Dome (now known as Eithad Stadium).  Melbourne's only gig that tour occurred in a 54,000 seater stadium with a retractable roof and the tour was booked by the same Sydney based promoter as before who, this time, scheduled smaller, multiple indoor shows in Brisbane as well as Sydney. A massive A Reserve was erected on the arena surface and priced out of the range for the average fan.  The remainder of the arena and the grandstands, all a considerable distance from the stage, were priced more modestly but the venue ended up being, at best, only two thirds full. 

This time I was better prepared and was able to get tickets for myself and Mulder 30 seconds after they went on sale.  We were in row AA which we assumed was front row, only to turn up on the night and discover we were in the last row of the A Reserve.  As I watched the reserve fill up, I started to get an uneasy feeling.  There were an awful number of people arriving wearing suits; I saw a couple arrive dressed as though they were going to the opera complete with binoculars.  A fan next to me alleged that the promoter had placed the A Reserve tickets on sale for his company’s shareholders before the general public.  I’ve never been able to have this claim proven (in other words, I am not saying the promoter did this) but, if true, it would explain the curious lack of passion or energy from the audience in front of me that night.  Meanwhile I could hear the roars from the B Reserve behind me throughout the night  (actually I could hear them twice due to the echo caused by the largely vacant upper level) who were having a great time despite being so far away from the stage.

If all that wasn’t enough, about 5 hours before the show started, American troops invaded Iraq.  This clearly played a role.  Audience members were understandably wary about what this meant and going to a gig that night as a war began to which Australian troops were going to be committed and killed didn’t seem like a good idea.  (I’m pretty sure it killed off last minute ticket sales as I don’t remember queues at the stadium for them.)  It did result in a memorable opening to the show with an acoustic Born In The U.S.A giving way to a mighty version of Edwin Starr’s War (“War what is it good for/Absolutely nothing”).  But the setlist problems continued.  Although I’m probably wrong here, the set felt as though it was the 1985 show revisited, this time with tracks from The Rising replacing those from Born In The U.S.A.  Once again, the first two albums (Rosie included) were ignored and although we had the pleasure of hearing Backstreets and seeing Miami Steve, you could sense that Bruce was distracted by Iraq.  After this single gig, the band continued to Sydney including the infamous outdoor gig where the power cut out 4 times in the one show.  My smug sense of satisfaction turned to abject depression when I read that the crowd got a performance of Rosalita as compensation.

Thus as you can see, in my mind I had not yet experienced the full Bruce live experience.  But my hopes had been raised immeasurably for this tour.  This tour is under the control of a Melbourne based promoter which accounts for the 3 shows at Rod Laver Arena and the two on the edge of town at Hanging Rock.  To mind this is the sort of set up you’d expect for Melbourne.  After all, it is the city that traditionally embraces the type of music that Bruce has always leaned towards, more so than Sydney, a city notorious for taking aboard and discarding the dominant musical trend or act of the moment.  Moreover, the arrangement is fairer to Bruce’s fans in South Australia and Tasmania, where he’s never played and who can get to Melbourne far more easily.  I’d imagine that quite a few South Australians will be making the 700km road trip from Adelaide to Melbourne for an Easter holiday gig at Hanging Rock.

But, from the moment the shows were announced, I only had eyes for the three shows at Rod Laver Arena aka Centre Court of the Australian Tennis Open.  To me the E Street Band is one of the very few which could take on and defeat this 15,000 seater, Australia’s largest, premier and regularly used indoor concert venue.  (It is also a venue that would be regular member of the world’s top 10 concert venues by attendance and takings if not for the 5 weeks it’s out of commission every summer owing to the tennis tournament – and even then it sometime gets in.)  A gig at Rod Laver, is effectively the closest anyone in Melbourne is ever likely to see this band in something approaching intimate mode.

Finally, there is an even more significant personal reason for wanting the true experience.  This is the first time Bruce has been to Melbourne since “M” and I got together and I’ve always promised to take her.  To date the shows we’ve attended together are those she’s wanted to see.  This is the only act I’ve wanted her to see.  If I was still a bachelor there is not the slightest doubt that I would have gone to all three nights.  Instead I’ve taken the risk of buying two tickets for the same night, one for “M”, and hoping I got the right night.  (Or should I say, hoping Mulder got the right night as he bought them this time.)  Actually, I had a choice of only the first night or tonight because I’m off tomorrow to see the only Melbourne date of the only other act on the planet who could conceivably keep me away from Bruce.  After seeing the set list for opening night, I’m reasonably confident that I’ll get the better of the two nights.

And so, after picking up “M” from work, we dash back home and, in tribute to Springsteen’s Italian roots, whip up an batch of gnocchi for dinner.  We wolf it down, I collect everything assembled in the morning and we head out.  I’d devised a clever driving route where I go against the Melbourne peak hour traffic to arrive at my favoured parking spot alongside the Yarra River.  When I arrive there, all the spots are taken; the one thing I’d forgotten was that Chris Isaak is playing the Myer Music Bowl on the other side of the river to Rod Laver.  Fortunately, some joggers having completed their run around The Tan, return to their car and so, holding up traffic, I wait for them to leave and take their spot.  It’s now 6.20 pm.  “M” and I walk along the river, taking in the smell of all the barbeques taking place, cross the Swan Street Bridge and head into Rod Laver.

Our tickets are pretty good; five rows from the bottom of the lower level of seats, more or less, where coaches and family sit during the Australian Open.  The venue is set to just about maximum capacity; seats behind the stage have been sold, general admission applies on the first half of the tennis court with the back half comprising a raised seated area. Mulder joins us with his partner who I shall call Scully. It is her first Bruce gig too. Mulder and I talk about the opening night; he is convinced we’ve got the better night.  We note that Spirit In The Night was played marking the end of the ban of tracks from the first two albums.

It is now 7.50 pm and E Street Band members start to enter the stage.  I fumble for my camera and wonder whether I’ll finally experience the true Springsteen live show;

Gig # 700 – Bruce Springsteen And The E Street Band, Rod Laver Arena, National Tennis Centre, Melbourne

Bruce Springsteen is last to step on the stage.  The packed house rises to their feet and does its best to blow the retractable roof off.  Already it’s clear that front of stage, indeed the whole arena, is full of the true believers (and partners), no fair weather fans, corporate shareholding theatre going types or Spandau Ballet apologists among them.

In complete contrast to the infamous 2003 gig, Bruce stifles a laugh whilst yelling, “Melbourne… Bums off seats”.  A count off and the band roars into a full bodied Badlands, the perfect opener with house lights up as per standard operating procedure. It segues beautifully into We Take Care Of Our Own, played with appropriate intensity. 

After that, the band starts to idle, and some musical cues suggest Adam Raised A Cain will be next.  Bruce holds up the band, heads to the audience, plucks a song suggestion and reveals it to the crowd as Cadillac Ranch turning the audience into a state of absolute frenzy.  This turns out to be an astute choice as next up is the title track of Wrecking Ball, delivered flawlessly.  Bruce then returns to the crowd and selects another request.  This time it’s Downbound Train, practically the only track from Born In The U.S.A. he didn’t play in 1985. (Has he finally checked the set lists for his previous Melbourne shows?) The ensemble playing on the song’s outro is impressive and I wonder why he doesn’t play this more often.  Death To My Hometown comes next and I’m starting to notice the impact of Tom Morello (aka The Nightwatchman, aka the guitarist from Rage Against The Machine), Miami Steve’s temporary replacement for the tour whilst filming in Norway. 

Hungry Heart follows with “M” singing along.  Bruce takes to the audience, moving along one side and then across a narrow catwalk between the general admission and court seated fans.  From there he stage dives into the audience who carry him back to the stage whilst he finishes the tune.  On the way, a fan gives him a beret, exactly like the one he wore in the early years.  “I’ve got the cap.  I may as well play the song that goes along with it”, he declares and the band launches into Spirit In The Night.  Mulder and I high five and are practically in tears as a lifetime ambition is realised.  Bruce then attempts to put everyone in tears with a mournful yet beautiful rendering of My City Of Ruins during which he implored those present to think of their own lost souls.  Undoubtedly some in the audience think this is a reference to Danny Federici and Clarence Clemons but their names are not invoked.

A funky Morello riff whips me out of wistful mood and into ecstasy as I realise the next track is The E Street Shuffle.  It is a mighty version, with the arrangement making full use of the talents of the 5 man horn section, three backing sessions and percussionist.  The instrumental coda at the end is nothing short of astonishing.  But something even more astonishing is to come as Bruce plucks two requests from the audience.  He shows them to the band and asks if they could possibly play it and then informs the audience he had noticed this request during every date of the Australian tour to date.  It is for Red Headed Woman from Human Touch, close to my least favourite song in his entire repertoire. He starts it as a solo number in, if my memory holds, “The key of C, the people’s key”.  A borderline delta blues interpretation, the arrival of Soozie Tyrell’s fiddle heralds its mutation into a country style hoedown with everyone joining in.  It’s an unexpected triumph from a most unexpected source.  

The audience (“M” included) then erupt when the familiar cords of Because The Night follow on its heels, the arrangement sticking fairly close to Patti Smith’s original interpretation.  A tremendous version of She’s The One is next followed by the night’s sole number from Nebraska.  This is Open All Night but played in the wonderful arrangement pioneered by Springsteen’s Sessions Band on the Live In Dublin album.  The party atmosphere unleashed by this is then sustained by the neighbouring Born In The U.S.A tracks, Working On The Highway and Darlington County.  Shackled And Drawn from Wrecking Ball follows, giving the extended band another chance to shine.  Hot on its heels is Waitin’ On A Sunny Day, another chance for a singalong.  During this number, Bruce plucks a young fan from the audience to sing along, a cheesy moment for sure, but one which has the audience roaring its approval.  Just before returning the boy to the audience, Bruce hoists him atop his shoulders.  The reason for his selection becomes apparent as it reveals not only was he dressed in a white T-shirt and blue jeans, the boy also had a red baseball cap dangling from his rear pocket.  Sound familiar?

Then comes the highlight of the night as Bruce starts The Ghost Of Tom Joad. With Nils Lofgren sitting in on lap steel guitar, initially it sounds like its going to be a straight band version. After the first couple of verses, Tom Morello joins in on vocals turning it into a duet.  (We should have seen this coming.  After all, Rage Against The Machine covered the tune on their covers album.)  From there the tune gains in intensity until exploding into a guitar orgy with Morello incorporating his trademark Rage Against The Machine scratchings.  The audience roar at its end was testament to the magnificence of the version. 

Very few songs could possibly hope to follow this.  Something special was needed and duly delivered in the form of Thunder Road with the audience singing at full throttle for the entire track. It was here that Clarence Clemons’ nephew Jake shone, delivering the sax solo with a power and tone almost identical to his uncle.  It’s so strong, I wonder whether he is using Clarence’s saxophone.

At this point, the band took their bows and the encores began without anyone leaving the stage. We Are Alive was up first in the "encore", being the final of the modest total of 5 Wrecking Ball tracks delivered on the night.  Another lesson learnt from previous Melbourne shows perhaps? Unquestionably the best version of Born To Run I’ve heard live  – the song that probably means more to me than any other -  is next with Jake again starring.  This leads into Dancing In The Dark utilising the version seen on the Live In Barcelona DVD.  Jake comes down again for the sax solo and the night’s ritual selection of the audience member to dance with The Boss but a curious thing happens.  Bruce plucks out a request from the audience, turns to Morello and calls out something. Eventually, Morello nods in agreement and Bruce plucks out a girl.  As he does so, Morello takes off his guitar and the girl runs to him.  They do 50s style dancing, shimmys and bum dancing.  Bruce, not to be outdone, selects his own dance partner.

The song ends and the girls are returned to the mosh pit.  Bruce motions to the band that he wants to select another request.  He plucks the card he wants and with a triumphant cry of “One time for Melbourne” reveals it to be Rosalita (Come Out Tonight). I unleash a primal roar I didn’t know existed within me as all those years of yearning for this one moment comes true.  Mulder, even more uncharacteristically, starts singing along and in tune to boot.  We HAD got the right night! It’s a fairly straight forward rendition of the standard but we don’t care.

By songs end, Bruce was just about gone and hams it up.  He lays on the stage, leaving Nils to collect a giant sponge and soaks him with it.  The band then launch into a superb version of Tenth Avenue Freezeout with the horn section really making its presence felt.  Then came the emotional moment; at the line where “the Big Man joins the band”, everyone on stage stops and looks toward the video screen.  Footage of Clarence Clemons is shown and the audience roars and applauds in tribute.  Someone in the Bruce organisation had also done their homework and remembered Danny Federici had also died since the last Melbourne show and ensured he too is cut into the tribute.  The audience greets his appearance with similar favour.  After another expedition into the audience (his third), the tune and gig is wrapped up and the house lights come up.  The audience is still on its feet applauding.

Despite the general euphoria, the last number was a sobering one.  It was a reminder that the end of the road is looming for band members, many in the audience and Bruce himself.  His songs are beginning to address this issue but that’s a thought for another day.  At this exact moment, everyone is stunned but happy.

I’m very happy.  I finally had my reservations about the previous Melbourne gigs vindicated and seen Melbourne’s reputation of Australia’s Bruce capital finally put in its proper place.  I’ve finally experienced what it’s like to be a real Springsteen gig and in the right venue.  I award the, dare I say it inevitable, perfect 10  I’ve always wanted to a Springsteen show placing Bruce in the top rank of all the acts I’ve seen.   But most importantly of all, I shared it with “M” and converted her to the cause as well. 

Thanks Boss.  We’ll see ya down the road.

25 March 2013 (Day 84) – Bruce

Over breakfast this morning, I read the first review of last night’s Bruce Springsteen’s show at Rod Laver Arena.  This was the first Melbourne show on his Wrecking Ball tour with another 4 shows to come over the next week, two of which will be outdoor gigs at the fabled Hanging Rock. 

As I read, I could feel my senses tingle and, to “M’s” dismay, found myself having to stifle a Bruuuuuuce roar.  “I’m not going to have to put up with that”, she asked forlornly, knowing somewhere in the house there is a ticket with my name on it.  I shoot her a look that confirms her worst fears.  She sort of knows what Bruce means to me.

Bruce Springsteen is the artist with whom I have felt the deepest connection.  It is a connection that includes novelists, painters, actors, comedians, journalists, you name it and its one that goes right back to 1975.  At that time I was studying, unsure about my place in the world, unsure about what I wanted to do with myself and unsure even if I wanted to make a mark on the world.  I’d gone along with my parents’ idea that I’d become a lawyer but I knew my heart wasn’t truly in it.  I’d assumed that I would get married and have kids but couldn’t actually envisage it; all I knew with certainty was that there wasn’t anyone special in my life.

My interest in music had been lit and I was obtaining and making tapes of music that I liked.  For the most part, my source was Melbourne Top 40 radio, what I’d read in the newspapers and what I’d seen on TV.  This was when I first heard of a bloke being hailed as the “New Dylan”.  This didn’t mean much to me at the time.  Bob Dylan was not someone you generally heard on Top 40 radio; my introduction to him, Hurricane, was still to be released but otherwise he was someone who had written hit songs for folk singers I’d been forced to learn in music class.  Articles started to appear about the hype surrounding Springsteen.  I had no idea what that meant and so dismissed it.

Then one day, I’m listening to 3XY on one of my taping quests.  A track had ended and this number I hadn’t previously heard came on.  Within 20 seconds of the start I had slammed on the recording button not exactly knowing what it was.  All I knew was that I was electrified by something I hadn’t previously heard, a supercharged piece of music that smashed through every idea I’d ever had about rock music.  Four minutes later, the DJ came on and said “Bruce Springsteen, title track of his album Born To Run”.  I’d like to think that was imprinted in my memory, but my tape recorder captured the outro and for the next few years those words were imprinted in my brain as I replayed the tape. But from that moment on I was hooked.  Apart from my birth family, my football team and my oldest friends he has been one of the constants in my life, or at least like the others, one of the constants I’ve cared about.

Now lots of things have been written by Springsteen over the years including a number of books by unabashed fans.  An American professor by the name of Louis P. Masur is one example and wrote a small volume entitled “Runaway Dream. Born To Run And Bruce Springsteen’s American Vision”.   In the final chapter of the book, he expressed his own connection to Springsteen and included this paragraph that sums up the impact of that album on him.  When I read it, I was absolutely floored.  Masur had perfectly encapsulated my own thoughts; there is only one word that I would remove if I wrote it and I’ll put that in [square brackets];

“As for me, Born To Run may not have changed my life, but it is central to it: The album expressed what I felt, articulated in words and music my own dream of escape and search for meaning.  On first listening, I do not think I heard the darkness and despair of songs such as “Backstreets” and “Jungleland”.  What I heard was a primal voice that gave vent to frustration, and soaring power chords that made me want to drive faster.  What I felt was that maybe I didn’t have to be trapped by the [American] dream, and that maybe in the midst of my worst despair and fear of failure there was hope.”

What makes this connection on my part all the more unusual is that Bruce is regarded as the quintessential American hero.  I don’t think this is due to the influence that some Americans exerted over a portion of my life.  As far as I was aware, none of them were likely to be Springsteen fans.  Like most of Springsteen’s worldwide (i.e non-American) fans, I think the mythology of the American Dream is largely irrelevant.  Rather it is because we could project our own lives onto that of the characters in his songs and draw our meaning, significance, call it what you like from that. In my own case I simply didn’t want to live a life that was dictated by what others thought or because of convention.  I didn’t want a job simply for money or prestige.  I didn’t want to get married just because it was expected.   I didn’t what to do anything that I couldn 't control (obviously excepting the rules and modes of behaviour need to be adhered to in certain contexts) unless it was something I wanted to do for my own reasons.  Most importantly, I wanted to live a life where I was comfortable with the choices I had made and not feel trapped in a life devoid of  meaning.  That is the connection that I’ve continually made with Bruce.  It is a sense of a life being led with everything that this entails as you try to make sense of the meaning of your existence.  In other words, Springsteen’s songs convey the essence of life - its joys, pain, doubts, love, failure, success, etc - as you proceed along life or as he puts it "on the road". 

And so I’ve decided that day is Bruce Springsteen Day and with that came the following program which ultimately allowed me to write the introduction you’ve just read.  The starting point is obviously;

(239) Bruce Springsteen – Born To Run

The album that started it all and one of the finest albums ever released.  This is an album about people unwilling to accept their lot in life and attempting to find ways of escaping either legally or otherwise.  The opener, Thunder Road, is a marvellous statement of intent climaxed with Clarence Clemons’ sax solo.  The title track, Backstreets and Jungleland provide the necessary epic sweep and drama, whilst Tenth Avenue Freezeout appears to deal with Bruce’s own escape. 

(240) Bruce Springsteen – Darkness On The Edge of Town

Many Bruce fans cite this as his best album but I‘ve always been slightly put off by its production which makes it sound a bit thinner than it needs to be.  The brilliant one two opening of Badlands and Adam Raised A Cain and, later, Racing In The Street provide the necessary drama.  The Promised Land and the title track add to Bruce’s hopes of salvation.  Prove It All Night was subsequently to be raised to epic status in live performance.

(241) Bruce Springsteen – Nebraska

Prior to buying this album, I was finally able to buy the first two albums and understood what motivated the “new Dylan” tag.  Next I bought The River, a double album of mostly straight ahead good time rock but with others such as the title track, The Price You Pay, Drive All Night and Wreck On The Highway.  Most of these tracks were placed near the end of that album probably foreshadowing what was to come.  Nebraska is an acoustic howl from the darkest of places where almost everyone and everything is trapped in the most hopeless of situations.  Even then, Springsteen ends the album with probably his greatest tune and a statement of hope - Reason To Believe.  The sheer quality of the album and the bare bones nature of the songs have led to the songs here being his most covered  - Atlantic City, Johnny 99, Mansion On The Hill and State Trooper among them.

(242) Lucky Town

The next album was Born In The U.S.A., essentially a single disc version of The River which made Springsteen a superstar.  After this came the moves which nearly brought him undone – the bloated live box, the marriage to a model, the brave, but misguided decision to put The E Street Band on the back burner and the dual albums released on one day.  The studio albums ranged from the odd (Tunnel Of Love) to the truly abysmal (Human Touch, the worst album in his catalogue by a wide margin).  Lucky Town was the album recorded quickly when he had doubts about Human Touch and it effortlessly puts it to shame.  It is home to his most underappreciated tunes, Better Days, the title track and Leap Of Faith.  Pride of place goes to two of his finest ballads, If I Should Fall Behind and My Beautiful Reward, both of which show that he had emerged from the wreckage of his failed marriage with lessons learnt and appropriately applied to his new union with Patti Scialfa.  Really, all the album needed was The E Street Band.

(243) Bruce Springsteen – The Rising

Bruce’s next album was the mostly acoustic The Ghost Of Tom Joad, a fine record that consolidated his songwriting.  But the process was really completed with his reunion with The E Street Band on The Rising.  Although this was his response to the events of 9/11, many of the songs appear to continue the stories told on Darkness, The River and Nebraska.  This fine album, the work of maturing mind and written with his maturing audience in mind, is constructed around three masterpieces – the opener Lonesome Day, the title track and My City In Ruins in which he seems to point out people’s responsibility to the world around them.  Weaved around them are tunes that reinforce the joys of life (such as Waitin’ On A Sunny Day and Mary’s Place)  as well as its dangers (Into The Fire).  The Arabic sounding backing of World’s Apart curiously appears to also signal the subsequent enjoyable music on his Seeger Sessions project.

(244) Wrecking Ball

His latest album came after a trio of albums of varying quality ranging from the intelligent adult acoustic tunes on Devils And Dust, the epic album ruined by a sludgy production (Magic) and the flat out strange (Working On A Dream).  This is effectively a Springsteen state of the union address not just of his United States but of his characters, now all adults and struggling with marriages, children and mortgages. We Take Care Of Our Own, American Land and Land Of Hope And Dreams add to his list of classic songs.  

23 & 24 March 2013 (Days 82 & 83) – Recent Purchase Update

With Friday night’s function out of the way and a couple of huge nights coming out, this weekend has sensibly been very much low key.  Strangely enough, when these weekends do occur, I don’t tend to listen to much preferring DVDs, napping and cooking.  I did manage to shake off my ennui enough to listen to the following albums over the weekend which I had purchased over the week.

(235) Mogwai – Mr. Beast

This was one of three Mogwai albums I managed to buy during the week.  It starts Auto Rock a title which could be taken as a comment that they are going through the motions.  Certainly it is a typical Mogwai tune albeit a little bit quieter than most.  The next track, Glasgow Mega-Snake, ups the ante and the tempo leading into two tracks (Acid Food and Travel Is Dangerous) with – wait for it – vocals.   The best tracks are in the second half of the disc with Friend Of The Night, Emergency Trap and We’re Not Here ending proceedings with a suitably epic flourish.

(236) Stevie Ray Vaughan & Double Trouble – Live At Ripley’s Music Hall Philadelphia, 20 October 1983 (Texas Flood Legacy Edition Bonus Disc)

The Legacy Edition of Stevie Ray’s debut has not been released here yet but I was able to score a copy for a very reasonable price from overseas.  This is now the third version of this album on the market after the original release and a reissued version in 1999 that contained 5 bonus tracks.  The Legacy Edition provides the original album with only one of these bonus tracks and this live recording as the bonus disc.  Recorded only a few months after the album was released and a live radio broadcast to boot, it is an adequate representation of SRV in concert.  It kicks off with two instrumentals (Testify and So Excited) which continues into his cover of Jimi Hendrix’s Voodoo Child (Slight Return). A run of SRV standards follow – Pride And Joy, Texas Flood, Love Struck Baby, Mary Had A Little Lamb and Tin Pan Alley before the set closer and disc highlight, an absolutely brilliant version of Little Wing/Third Stone From The Sun.  Not the greatest live SRV I’ve heard but certainly not the worst.

(237) Camper Van Beethoven – La Costa Perdida

Released earlier this year, this is a marked improvement over their previous comeback album New Roman Times.  It harks back to the musical diversity of their earlier albums albeit with a more laid back feel as evidenced in tracks such as Someday Our Love Will Sell Us Out, Northern Californian Girls and A Love For All Time.

(238) Okkervil River – The Stage Names

I first heard of Okkervil River when they worked with Roky Erickson (ex 13^th Floor Elevators) on the marvellous True Love Cast Out All Evil album.  I wasn’t impressed that much by their most recently released album I Am Very Far and so approached this with a bit a trepidation.  I needn’t have worried.  This album released in 2007, is a real grower comprising great musicianship with intriguing lyrical content.  Three tracks stand out to me; Savannah Smiles about a porn actress who committed suicide after a car crash, Plus Ones which tells a story essentially by throwing in lots of references to songs well known to the indie crowd and the final track John Allyn Smith Sails, another account of a suicide, this time of a poet. 

22 March 2013 (Day 81) – Cover Bands

For today’s listening, I thought I throw together elements of the previous days, in other words more soul albums from the Atlantic box and other stuff.

(230) Rufus Thomas – Walkin’ The Dog

Rufus Thomas was often underrated as a singer probably due to the number of enduring novelty songs he recorded such as Do The Funky Chicken.  But this album showed he was a singer of some merit tackling such well known material as Mashed Potatoes, Boom Boom, Ooh-Poo-Pah-Doh (infinitely preferable to Billy Thorpe and the Aztecs’ seemingly endless live versions) and a slightly slower Land Of 1,000 Dances.  Additionally the album contains his dog trilogy of the title track, The Dog and the fun Can Your Monkey Do The Dog.

(231) Art Brut – “Bang Bang Rock & Roll”

This is the debut album for the British indie band often lumped with acts such as Franz Ferdinand and Bloc Party as an “art rock” band.  I’m really not sure what is meant by such a title as Art Brut to me sound like a straight ahead rock band.  If they remind me of anyone it is The Fall and that would be mainly due to the voice of lead singer Eddie Argos, at times a dead ringer for Mark E. Smith, more than anything else.  The album features a great selection of songs such as Formed A Band, Emily Kane and Fight!

(232) Donny Hathaway – Everything Is Everything

This album is the only contender apart from the sublime Donny Hathaway Live for the title of his best album.  Voices Inside (Everything Is Everything), a great version of I Believe To My Soul and all of the original vinyl side 2 (Thank You Master (For My Soul), The Ghetto and To Be Young Gifted And Black are as good as soul music gets, highlighted by his wonderfully expressive voice.

(233) Stephen Malkmus And The Jicks – Mirror Traffic

It’s hard to believe now that there are as many Malkmus solo albums on the market as there are for his original band Pavement.  This is another solid effort highlighted by the hilarious Senator, Brain Gallop with its looping guitar work and a number of impressive tracks on the home stretch starting with Forever 28.   

(234) Don Covay And The Goodtimers – Mercy!

There are two things to listen for on the opening track Mercy Mercy.  These are the guitar work, reputedly by one Jimi Hendrix, and the other is how much Covay’s voice reminds you of Mick Jagger.  It appears to be a vocal trick that he repeats on a number of tracks such as I’ll Be Satisfied and You’re Good For Me.  On others he employs a beautiful higher pitched voice that Mick could only dream of matching.  This is an exceptional album and one anyone with more than a passing interest in soul should hear.

In the evening “M” and I attended a work function by her employer at one of Melbourne’s concert venues.  It was a retirement function for one of the principals at her employer’s and so the choice of music had to cover a lot of bases musically.  What we ended up with was an impressive 11 piece (rhythm section/3 piece horns/keyboards/4 female singers and male vocalist/guitarist) cover revue type cover band with the ability to handle a wide range of material.  Unfortunately I couldn’t pick up their name but they churned out a number of late 70s/early 80s disco hits such as Born To Be Alive, great medleys of Jackson 5/Michael Jackson and Abba standards and many others. Most importantly, they put their own spin on the material which meant that they could keep the material fresh and enjoyable to play each night.  This came through in their performance which was extremely energetic and full of love for the music.

This is to me the acceptable face of cover bands.  A good cover band is one that plays for the love of the music they’re performing.  I’ve never enjoyed many of the suburban bands I’ve heard at wedding receptions over the years because most gave me the impression that it was just a job, almost akin to standing on a factory assembly line. “M” and I were keen to avoid this at our reception and so went for a DJ who really knew what it took to get everyone onto the dance floor.  And that ultimately, for occasions like weddings or retirements is the point isn’t it?  These are ultimately joyous occasions where couples and children want to have fun.  A bad act can colour one’s experience of the occasion to such an extent that it cheapens the memory of the entire occasion. 

Take weddings for example.  I’ve been to many over my life and my memory of many of the ceremonies all tend to blur into one another apart from the novelty of attending a Greek Orthodox and a half Jewish one.  You don’t remember many receptions either unless you either been served up an incredible amount of (or not enough) food or unless the band was spectacularly great or really bad.  All of the memorable weddings I’ve ever attended have employed bands that for some reason of other have stuck in the memory bank.  For example, the one wedding I’ve attended overseas was an amazing feast that stretched on for hours.  The band was an extraordinarily flexible one, adept a playing wedding tunes, western pop and rock standards and traditional/folk songs of the country in question.

Tonight was similarly such an occasion and as such was a retirement to remember.

21 March 2013 (Day 80) – Some Uncompromising Albums

I didn’t feel in the mood for more soul today and sought out some harder fare.  When I sat down to write this post, I realised that I had chosen four albums from 3 different eras which defied the expectations of either the artists’ fans or record company, a segment of society or society itself.

(226) Nirvana – In Utero

As just about everyone with an interest in music knows, Nirvana hit the absolute big time with Nevermind.  Practically overnight they went from being an act used to playing small clubs in front of audiences of no more than a few hundred to a thousand at best to being the most sought after act on the planet.  I well remember what happened here.  A mate and I bought tickets to what was going to be, I think, a single show in Melbourne.  It was no big deal; we went to an alternative music shop in the city, asked for tickets and the clerk spent a while going through a number of gigs for other acts before finding the Nirvana batch.  We had already been seduced by Bleach and were hoping to see a Seattle act that would be as good as Mudhoney, a band we’d already seen 2 or 3 times.  This was before Nevermind had been released and before we’d even heard any of the tracks from it.  What happened after its release was utter mayhem as just about everyone tried to get tickets and two or three extra shows were added.  The resultant shows at The Palace in St Kilda, held at roughly the same time Nevermind hit #1 in the States, were OK but were memorable mainly for an audience, the great majority of which were clearly attending a club show for the first time.  This included patrons in the glassed in upper level V.I.P. area who couldn’t see anything because the glass had fogged up due to the sheer number of people present.  I also remember looking up during Smells Like Teen Spirit and fearing for my safety; everyone standing on a non glassed in mezzanine level above us accessible to anyone in the venue was jumping up and down just like in the Spirit video clip and their combined reverberations were visible in the ceiling.  But mostly what I remember were the puzzled looks bordering on incomprehension on the faces of this newly won audience whenever something from Bleach was played.  This is why I think In Utero is one of the bravest albums ever released by a major act.  It was an attempt by a band to discard a newly won audience in a single bound and I’m pretty sure that, had there been a fourth Nirvana studio album, this would have been achieved. 

The tone is set over the course of this extraordinary album’s opening three numbers. The opening cut Serve The Servants was meant to antagonise this audience through the coarseness of the Steve Albini production and even more so by its lyrics.  Supposedly about Kurt Cobains’s desire to not  speak to his father after his parents divorce, the lyrics can also be interpreted as an attempt to disconnect himself from a new audience with which he felt nothing in common.   As if to underscore this, the heaviest track on the album, Scentless Apprentice, comes next.  Powered by a vicious Dave Grohl drum pattern and an incredible guitar riff, the band throws out a musical challenge – like this or get out.  It’s certainly not for the faint hearted and is probably the only time that Cobain really got the band to sound like one of his musical heroes – and very much a cult act – the Melvins.  It, in turn, is followed by Heart Shaped Box.  A song adhering to the classic slow/fast/slow Nirvana template, it becomes a form of manifesto – THIS is what we now mean by a commercial song.  And then come the truly brutal tracks – Rape Me, Frances Farmer Will Have Her Revenge On Seattle, Radio Friendly Unit Shifter, etc.   An incredible album, it has already usurped Nevermind in my affections and I have no doubt that in the fullness of time it will be regarded as a true classic.

(227) Lou Reed and Metallica – Lulu

Metallica has always made musical demands on its audience, challenging them to open their ears beyond traditional heavy metal sounds.  For the most part, they haven’t responded all that well, be that for the instrumentals in the Cliff Burton era, the S+M album with the San Francisco Symphony or the image changes around the Load era.  But it is this album that has provoked the greatest negative response of all, a collaboration with master antagonist Lou Reed.  What a lot of critics have failed to understand is this is not a Metallica album.  It is basically a Lou Reed album in the sense that the lyrical conceits are all his with Metalllica providing the music and the occasional James Hetfield vocal.  To anyone unfamiliar with Reed’s work and his fascination with the seedy underbelly of life, this album and particularly its lyrical content, would come as a shock.  And ultimately this is what makes Metallica a cut above the average heavy metal superstar act.  They are prepared to point their fan base into areas they would not  usually tread even at the expense of their own popularity.  This is a mark of musical integrity; not to always give the fans what they want but to acknowledge that everyone is capable of musical growth.

And for those willing to listen this is, on the whole, a thrilling listen.  The one two punch of Brandenberg Gate and The View is at least as good as the opening to any Metallica album.  Pumping Iron and Mistress Dread continue in that vein but it is the departures from the Metallica road into more familiar musical territory that pays bigger dividends.  The closer Junior Dad is very much a Reed number, even down to the strings that play out the album which wouldn’t have sounded out of place on either Berlin or Street Hassle.  But the undoubted highlight is Cheat On Me, another lengthy atmospheric track that continually builds to a momentous climax as the band thrash around whilst Reed spits out withering venomous lyrics backed up by Hetfield’s backing vocals.  Surely even the most one eyed Metallica fan can appreciate that?

(228) Public Enemy – It Takes A Nation Of Millions To Hold Us Back

This is universally regarded as one of the greatest rap albums of all times by one of the most uncompromising acts of all time.  On this Public Enemy set out to make a forceful commentary on the state of the (American) nation.  The apocalyptic Countdown To Armageddon sets the agenda leading into their best known track Bring The Noise.  The theme of the rest of the album can be determined simply by scanning the track listing: Don’t Believe The Hype, Caught Can I Get A Witness?, Night Of The Living Baseheads, Black Steel In The Hour Of Chaos and Rebel Without A Cause.  All backed up with a superb production job by The Bomb Squad it is an album that will be studied by social commentators for decades to come.  Having said that, I’m not of the view that this is Public Enemy’s greatest hour.  This falls to its successor, the incredible Fear Of A Black Planet, an album that is more tightly focused but also has the benefit of utilising the rage that white audiences felt by this album and subsequent live performances to its advantage.

(229) The Monks – Black Monk Time

This is an album of brutal garage rock from the 1960s played by, would you believe, by American GI’s based in Germany.  A strong case can be made to suggest that they invented the sound that The Stooges were to perfect.  However, unlike the Stooges, who made multiple albums, the Monks were initially doomed to this one album.  An air of conflict unsurprisingly prevails throughout this album and their anger at the world is palpable on tracks like Shut Up, I Hate You, We Do Wie Du and Drunken Maria.  The band has since reunited and an expanded version of this album has been released with some truly loopy tracks such as Cuckoo.