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After many years in Rock 'n' Roll
Aug. 19th, 2019 09:26 amI accumulated many memories; but one of the more important aspects of being in the biz was insider status. And the point of insider status was information; gossip, if you will, but also the access to the mythological hinterland of Rock 'n' Roll. I can't remember the first time, for example, that I heard The Troggs Tapes, but they were as funny to studio hacks as Derek and Clive (also staples in the post-studio wind-down). Nor can I remember exactly when I first saw the Rolling Stone's Cocksucker Blues, but a VHS was brought into the studio by a (nameless) musician who had a copy sometime or other and of course we watched it avidly. So I searched it out on YouTube after reading an article in the Graun about best Rock 'n' Roll movies. And it is there, in all its boring glory; available to one and all - though the picture quality is somewhat less good than I remembered. I find it is taking me a lot of effort to sit through it all for a second time; though the milieu itself is very familiar. I too have woken and reached for a spliff, and/or a bottle of Whisky or a glass of champagne, and/or my bed-partner(s), or a guitar and thought it commonplace.
What personal recall edits is, of course, the colossal boredom of it all. Cocksucker Blues is a boring movie. But it isn't as boring as your average reality television programme because at least the characters it focuses on are among the most brilliant and influential musicians of their time. Still, it drags; as does much of the music and temporal art of that period. Who now could actually listen to a fifteen minute drum solo? Even if performed by John Bonham or Ian Paice or Buddy Rich. Not me. Zeppelin's "Dazed and Confused", apart from the borrowing from Jake Holmes, is a boring, sprawling mess. Most bands couldn't really extemporise for any length of time, and even Miles during that period made difficult music which required a bit more of a musical education to appreciate. And let's be candid, from Bitches Brew onwards Miles explored difficult territory.
Of course, there are exceptions to this. Zep's studio cannon is overlong but nevertheless magisterial. A good producer doing some editing on most of their songs wouldn't have gone amiss. Floyd managed twenty-plus minute pieces of music that still work, both inside and outside cultural context. "Shine on You Crazy Diamond" is still perfect and will last into the century after this, or longer. (If we manage to survive that long as a species and civilisation, that is.) I reckon the Beatles music will last alongside Bach and Mozart and poor, great, deaf Ludwig. Jimi will always be incendiary in any human culture. Stevie Wonder, Bowie, Prince, and Brian Wilson will last. I guess Elvis and Chuck Berry and the folk in at the birth of it will be more than footnotes - but let's face it when it comes to examining the body we have only one conclusion; "It's dead, Jim". Now we archive it and dissect the bones as Rock 'n' Roll has moved from the vanguard to being an historical example of our cultural heritage. It is suitable for academic study, and we can listen to the musical peaks it achieved in the same way that we can listen to Beethoven and Bach; as pure music, culturally decontextualised and presented merely as notes of beauty and meaning intrinsic unto itself; and removed from all other considerations. Sometimes the Stones get there too. But today, in my world... today is a day for Jean Sibelius and George Gershwin, and maybe some Weather Report.
Old people do listen to decontextualised music rather more than young people. Musicians do likewise. Even I am prepared to allow Wagner or Percy Grainger to be decontextualised, though I must admit I agree with Berlioz about Wagner; moments of sublime beauty interspersed with quarters-of-an-hour of turgidity. Grainger is more difficult to pardon, but his opinions don't change his notes. (Or do they? It is a bit of a debate.)
However, speaking of unspeakable musicians, the bastards in the Function Band have put Michael Jackson's "Beat it" back into the set; so I have to dust off the Eddie van solo for public consumption again. And bring yet another guitar to the gig, but this time for one song. It's not like we are making enough money for roadies.
I don't have a pension; ergo, I guess I'll never retire, just potter on for as long as I can; but there ain't a lot of musical work out there for an old bloke, no matter how good. Maybe I'll go back into teaching, but I have to find pupils of the right standard. No more teaching beginners.
What personal recall edits is, of course, the colossal boredom of it all. Cocksucker Blues is a boring movie. But it isn't as boring as your average reality television programme because at least the characters it focuses on are among the most brilliant and influential musicians of their time. Still, it drags; as does much of the music and temporal art of that period. Who now could actually listen to a fifteen minute drum solo? Even if performed by John Bonham or Ian Paice or Buddy Rich. Not me. Zeppelin's "Dazed and Confused", apart from the borrowing from Jake Holmes, is a boring, sprawling mess. Most bands couldn't really extemporise for any length of time, and even Miles during that period made difficult music which required a bit more of a musical education to appreciate. And let's be candid, from Bitches Brew onwards Miles explored difficult territory.
Of course, there are exceptions to this. Zep's studio cannon is overlong but nevertheless magisterial. A good producer doing some editing on most of their songs wouldn't have gone amiss. Floyd managed twenty-plus minute pieces of music that still work, both inside and outside cultural context. "Shine on You Crazy Diamond" is still perfect and will last into the century after this, or longer. (If we manage to survive that long as a species and civilisation, that is.) I reckon the Beatles music will last alongside Bach and Mozart and poor, great, deaf Ludwig. Jimi will always be incendiary in any human culture. Stevie Wonder, Bowie, Prince, and Brian Wilson will last. I guess Elvis and Chuck Berry and the folk in at the birth of it will be more than footnotes - but let's face it when it comes to examining the body we have only one conclusion; "It's dead, Jim". Now we archive it and dissect the bones as Rock 'n' Roll has moved from the vanguard to being an historical example of our cultural heritage. It is suitable for academic study, and we can listen to the musical peaks it achieved in the same way that we can listen to Beethoven and Bach; as pure music, culturally decontextualised and presented merely as notes of beauty and meaning intrinsic unto itself; and removed from all other considerations. Sometimes the Stones get there too. But today, in my world... today is a day for Jean Sibelius and George Gershwin, and maybe some Weather Report.
Old people do listen to decontextualised music rather more than young people. Musicians do likewise. Even I am prepared to allow Wagner or Percy Grainger to be decontextualised, though I must admit I agree with Berlioz about Wagner; moments of sublime beauty interspersed with quarters-of-an-hour of turgidity. Grainger is more difficult to pardon, but his opinions don't change his notes. (Or do they? It is a bit of a debate.)
However, speaking of unspeakable musicians, the bastards in the Function Band have put Michael Jackson's "Beat it" back into the set; so I have to dust off the Eddie van solo for public consumption again. And bring yet another guitar to the gig, but this time for one song. It's not like we are making enough money for roadies.
I don't have a pension; ergo, I guess I'll never retire, just potter on for as long as I can; but there ain't a lot of musical work out there for an old bloke, no matter how good. Maybe I'll go back into teaching, but I have to find pupils of the right standard. No more teaching beginners.
