Every day I am met with more and mounting evidence that things in the music business are getting better. Yesterday I met guitar builder/designer Frank Falbo. He won't say it, but what he is doing with his acoustic guitars will revolutionize that industry to a great degree - not only do his instruments sound better, but his new way of dealing with the concepts of string tension, tops, and bracing may add tremendously to the lifespan of the acoustic guitar.
I met Frank while doing a podcast with Dan Boul, a guy who is designing guitar amps (and maybe soon some other exciting musical apparatuses) that bring the sound of vintage classics to a listenable volume, while also creating products which will allow the end user to greatly reduce maintenance costs through tube replacement. Falbo and Boul are two examples of manufacturers who aren't cloning the past, nor are they depending on people not realizing that there is no man behind the curtain - I could name a lot of companies who are wheeling out tired ideas in shiny new packages that speak more to making a fast buck than true innovation, or present day problem solving, but my time is better spent telling you that great builders like guitar maker Terry McInturff are adding staff, and staying busy by the dint of their hard work and creative ideas.
McInturff Carolina Custom
If you read things like the Lefsetz Report, or other industry shill publications and blogs, you may think that the only way to keep the industry's head above water is to keep following the lead of the big labels and the streamers, but that's what's been called propaganda in decades past - that's when somebody gets paid to spew the rhetoric of those want you to believe that the cliff you just stepped off wasn't doing you any good, and they have the solution to the problem that they most likely created. I call it bullshit.
The best of the old and new - Dan Boul's 65amps Producer 6l and George Lynch's '68 Plexi
I'm currently about ten record reviews and seven great interviews behind schedule for the simple reason that there are a given number of hours in a day, and currently there is more great stuff available than hours. I made a twenty two hour trek to LA and back yesterday to keep the balls in the air and to keep things moving - Rock Ain't Near Dead™is on its way to becoming not just a theme, but an industry. The radio show will be starting in early December, we're looking at recording facilities in the Los Angeles area, and I'm starting to scout out a distributor for my small batch boutique record label, Rock Ain't Near Dead Records. Don't tell me things aren't getting better - I'm living the proof. Mind you, I didn't say easy, and those twenty hour days happen more than they should, but the cause is good.
Granted, we're still in a period of tremendous challenges and transitions, but I'm encouraged when a veteran like Steve Hackett is doing sold out shows around the world with his Genesis Revisited project, and that Genesis Revisited II has actually outsold the original recordings at this point. Progressive rock is currently doing very well, and bands like Porcupine Tree and their leader Steven Wilson, The Flower Kings, and others are doing relatively booming business, and more important, the work they are doing is brilliant.
Regardless of genre, I'm hearing better music with greater regularity than I have in years - it's not as easy to find, but then it's also not being spoon fed to me by corporations - the death of the labels has resulted in the birth of small batch artist owned imprints that allow for great pollination in the way of collaborative freedom, and a greater variety of products. Hackett may release a studio set, a live CD, and another DVD set later that encapsulates many of the same songs (in different formats), but it's all available to the completist collector, or in bits and pieces for the more casual listener - it's great to have the choice! What would we have given in the seventies to have such options?
Dan Boul and Frank Falbo - A New Day's Pioneers
What it all comes down to for me is this - yeah, economies are still rough, that's true, and it's a tough time to figure out how to make it all work out and to reformulate how we buy and sell, but for me that's evolution. You can't go back in time, and you can't put the toothpaste back in the tube - however, you can move forward, taking what worked, getting rid of what didn't work, and spending some real time applying yourself to new thoughts and possibilities.
I'm existing in a sea of good right now - granted, I nowhere near have it made, and the challenges are still both stressful and uncertain, but I believe that by seeing the good in things, staying positive and moving forward beats the hell out of grousing about the past, who's to blame, or how bad things are - Rock Ain't Near Dead, and neither am I!
Maybe I'll match the Lefsetz's of the world with a positive and forward looking newsletter. Lord knows, I hear a lot of good news!
Rock Ain't Near Dead, and if you need any convincing on this point, look - no, listen no further than Michael Des Barres fiery new live set, Hot N Sticky Live. Coming on the heels of last years fabulous long player, Carnaby Street, this disc will cure what ails you with ample doses of rhythm, the blues, and a heaping helping of a sensational love of rock 'n' roll.
Des Barres has returned to the stage after an absence of way too long, but it's better late than never, and if you miss a true London bred hero fronting a tight but loose group of swaggering pirates, look no further. This makes good on the promise set to lie by such acts as Rod Stewart & The Faces, who left to soon only to not return - well, I'm here to say that this is as good as I could have dreamt for rock's growing up into the new millennium. This set moves, grooves, and shakes you down with a top flight band of LA aces, and a frontman who melts all before him.
Rock's regals seem to have made it through the dimly lit darkness that enveloped the breed and the art throughout the '80s and '90s - the real rockers, the Ian Hunters, Glenn Hughes, and yes, the Marquis Des Barres (oh yeah, he's got lineage), have all saved it up and not spent it all, they're alive well and proving on a regular basis that rock may not be on the radio, but it's doing just fine as an art form.
Des Barres has a long standing habit of keeping a guitarist with hellacious firepower just to his right, and he continues the tradition with LA veteran Mark Tremalgia who sounds perfect in his role, firing off shards of spiky leads, slippery slide playing and a great counter to the bosses solid rhythm playing. He never overplays, but when he steps up it's a rock 'n' roll joy to behold. He's bolstered on the left by Des Barres regular Paul Ill, a bassist who's obviously worshipped some Jamerson licks, but may have soaked them in some sophisticated musical stew while at Berklee, and he's a constant presence - jumping between solid pumping and melodious flights of fancy with great authority. They're joined at the back of the bandstand by drummer David Goodstein, whose name has been attached to more artists than I have room to name, but the list includes Waddy Wachtel, Edgar Winter, Ivan Neville, and the late, great Clarence Clemons - yeah, he's got that kind of rhythm, he moves this band. Keyboardsist Damon Fox rounds out this stellar outfit, and if you don't know of Damon Fox, well just remember that you heard the name here first. Google Bigelf, and look for that name in 2014, but I digress....
My mention of the band is longer than most reviews, but bands are damned important, and I salute Michael Des Barres for going the extra mile to track down the best LA has to offer.
Carnaby Street kicks things off, being the lead track of the band's last studio offering, and it's rock 'n' roll nirvana - Paul Ill chases the fiery frontman across the track, and the band is blaring, but this is unquestionably Des Barres' show. The man is in great voice and chock full of piss and vinegar. It's a no holds barred performance, and when we get to the whooping background vocals, and the solos, it's simply blissful. Like he says at the end of the track, "Good evening, ladies and gentlemen - welcome to a fucking rock 'n' roll show. Indeed, and amen.
Soulful organ, a slamming backbeat, and groove-a-liscious bassline leads us into another key track from Carnaby Street, You're My Painkiller, and it's a serious slice of rockin' rhythm and blues. Des Barres has always been an excellent composer of life confirming lyrics, and he puts it over here as well as better than ever. A killer guitar solo that's underpinned by a baseline that will have smart bassists running to the woodshed, and when Des Barres steps back in, he sells it, and it stays sold.
Hot N Sticky (Down South) is one that's for the ladies, and it does well strut as well as The Faces ever did. Fox's organ fights with the guitars for room in the mix, and it's a fight worth watching - the guitars are dirty, but not too dirty, just the right amount of swirling grit, and girth. Listening to this reminds me of why I adore rock 'n' roll. This is a church service of the highest quality. When we get to the musical interlude in the mid-section, you just want to stay there and steep in it.
Photo by Heather Harris
Des Barres takes us back to the sixties next with a fabulous shot of Motown - Stop In The Name Of Love never rocked so righteously, as the bands eases into the groove before exploding into the chorus, and you'll be singing right along. Fox displays his knowledge of deep south Hammond stylings and again, it's love, children, it's love. His solo is a wonder to behold, then Tremalgia lays down some great guitar that leads to Des Barres lifting the tune off into the night. If you're unfamiliar with the passion this guy brings to his work you are going to be amazed and thrilled.
Please Stay is a slow, simmering blues, and Des Barres brings the audience into the proceedings as the band goes gospel, and the singer pronounces his undying love. If there were still hit singles, this would be a top tenner. The whole band sings, and they sing like angels, so listen up.
The band goes back to 1977 for Detective Man, a cut off the great lost album and band, Detective, who were amongst the first signings to Zep's Swan Song label. If possible, the band is in even higher gear as the set progresses, and it's getting hotter and hotter. My only regret is that we didn't hear this more in the years that have come since. There's a scorching wah solo on this one - handle with care.
Things get heavy for Little Latin Lover, the guitars are getting louder and even more lively. This pays it's dues to the memory of the Morrison Motel by way of Carnaby Street. This is straight up rock 'n' roll with no chaser, and it's got quite a punch. I wish I had been at this show - I don't know where I was that night, but I doubt I was having this much fun.
Redemption and love are never far from Des Barres' mind, and he wraps up the set beautifully with a medley that ties it all up quite neatly - leading off with My Baby Saved My Ass (from my wicked past...), which features a stinging slide guitar solo from Tremalgia before Des Barres becomes a jet fighter coming into JFK and landing squarely atop a loving tribute to Humble Pie and Steve Marriott with a slamming bit of I Don't Need No Doctor, and after smoking solos from the guitarist and Fox, we get a reminder that Des Barres did spend time with supergroup Power Station as the band jumps into Bang A Gong (Get It On). What a great way to end a fucking rock 'n' roll show.
If you had played me this album in 1985, and told me that this would have been the state of the art in 2013, I wouldn't have been upset at all - Hot N Sticky Live certainly makes the case that Rock Ain't Near Dead, and Michael Des Barres continues to age like fine wine, getting better and more valuable by the moment.
When he's not throwing down top shelf rock, Des Barres can be found on several Internet outlets preaching his unique blend of rock, love, and light.
Thanks to Michael Des Barres, and Billy James at Glass Onyon PR.
Flying Colors - this band is perfectly named. Looking up what the phrase means, I see that it is cliche that refers to excellence and ease, and that's just right. Live In Europe is their new DVD/C/Blue Ray extravaganza, and it's a couple of hours of pure, unadulterated joy. I wondered how the band would sound on the road, given that their debut album was recorded in less than two weeks, and every member of the band has full time jobs elsewhere, with the exception of Mike Portnoy, who seems to have about a half dozen. My worrying was for naught, they pull this set off with grace, precision, and a subtle power that almost masks their brilliance.
This live set was recorded in Tilberg, Holland on the debut tour, and the sold out audience sounds like they knew just what they were in for - Blue Ocean opens the set and the dye is set, as the band replicates the sophisticated pop rocker with complete confidence, from Dave Larue's perculating bass intro to the soft gang vocals that come across with pristine clarity. At seven and a half minutes the song is not a second too long, and it breezes by and leaves me feeling like I could lose a lot of time to this package - so much that I think I'm going to have to seek out the three album vinyl version.
Shoulda Coulda Woulda ups the pace, and it's Neal Morse's organ that gives this its 'Vanilla Fudge in the new millenium' vibe. Casey McPherson comfortably slips from falsetto to baritone and back, and his voice blends wonderfully with Neal and Portnoy who hit the harmonies with great precision. Steve Morse sounds more at home in this band than I've heard him sound in years - he's an encyclopedia of guitar licks, chops, and tones and his unfailing sense of not just what to play, but how to play it is always spot on. Portnoy displays a small bit of his stick wizardry on the tail end, and then steps in to announce Casey McPherson's European debut.
Neal Morse's piano sets the stage for Love Is What I'm Waiting For, and the band puts on a grand display of their pure pop power - everyone wants to call this a prog band, but I'm hearing elaborate pop more than anything, and nothing could please me more. This tune evokes memories of the seventies when it was just understood that the whole band would sing, and they could all play their asses off. The other Morse pulls off a guitar solo that is half melody and half chops display, and with a tone that is, dare I say, perfect. This is like a high horsepower version of 10cc.
Portnoy plays master of ceremonies as he informs the audience that since the band has but one album, they must reach into their other projects to fill out the set, and it's a tune from Endochine, a band the singer fronted in the early years of this century, entitled Can't Find A Way. The band wraps itself around the arrangement, and while it's obviously not as sophisticated as a piece devised by the firm's senior partners, it's lifted by the empathetic backing given by what is the best backing band McPherson will most likely ever front. It turns out that he was the perfect guy to front this outfit - his stature is revered by those in the know, but his relative newcomer status in the world of classic and prof rock serves well to keep the public from having too many preconceptions - he's a lesser known entity, but no less talented, not for a minute. The guy sings like a bird, and writes like a very old soul.
You've maybe seen the YouTube clip of The Storm that the label put out as a tester, and it's not just a great song, it's also a great representation of what one can expect from Flying Colors. It's filled with hooks from every instrumentalist, and if you listen close, you'll hear Portnoy's deft cymbal and tom work and realize why the half of the world that doesn't have their heads up their asses think he's one of the finest drummers on the planet. Another barn burner of a solo from Steve Morse - he sounds like he's playing to no one's expectation here, and it's a huge breath of fresh air. He has it all, and it's all on display on this set.
Speaking of Steve Morse, the next tune is an old classic from his early days with the legendary Dixie Dregs - Odyssey is just that, and the band is up for it. It almost sounds like they're showing that they can honor this piece of musical history, and they do, they do. This shifts gears repeatedly and goes from smooth jazz to hard rock to a fistful of fusion in the turn of a trick with no problem.
Forever In A Daze is one of the harder rocking numbers from the band's studio debut, and bassist Dave Larue must be heard to be believed - he pops, pulls, and thumps with great tone, nice note selection and endless groove - very bassist who takes his playing seriously should be listening close to this and seeing how they're really doing with their instrument. When he breaks into his solo, it's a great journey - a head shaker, in that it's not just masterful, it's fun.
McPherson takes over for a meditation on his version of Cohen's Hallelujah, and it's majestic. It takes nerves of steal to have such a group of heavy hitters take a breather while you bare your soul, and he nails it.
Better Than Walking Away starts with some mournful notes from Morse's guitar, and then is taken over by Neal's electric piano and McPherson's soul stylings - this is pop/gospel beauty. As the tune develops, listen closely to the marvelous display of comping and filling in the spaces by the band - they know exactly when to make themselves known and when to back off - it's one thing to know every note in the world, but it's a completely different exercise to be an empathetic accompanist. This is like a master's level course on what to play when a guy is singing.
Big pop returns with Kayla, one of the best adult pop songs that I've heard in ages and ages - worth the price of admission. Yeah, I might say that a lot, but then again, I'm most generally not wrong. Portnoy is perfect, knowing when to push and when to lay back - the guy is a marvel in which to listen. Steve Morse fills in with some great chord inversions that fit the vocals like a tailored suit, and Neal Morse may be the perfect match in voice for which McPherson to harmonize with - listen to the two harmonize just after the first guitar solo, and you'll be well astounded. This is Simon & Garfunkel good.
Portnoy takes the mic for a lead vocal on Fool For My Heart, and while he demurs, he also pulls it off - it's another number off the band's debut, and if I'm not wrong, he proclaims his undying love for his keyboard player in the second verse! McPherson carries a bit of the load on the bridge before Steve takes yet another nice, overdriven solo. He's so lyrical in his playing with this band, every solo has as much melody and passion as the songs themselves.
Dave Larue takes a solo for a Spur of the Moment that leads into a cover of Dream Theater's Repentance, another Portnoy vocal turn. This is more psychedelic than I remembered, and Morse's keyboards shine, making this, along with Larue's heavily effected bass, appropriately Floyd-like. Can it be long before the world sees a Portnoy solo project? Of course, it may be unnecessary, as he seems to already do exactly as he pleases, musically. I'm guessing that Portnoy loses little sleep over his departure from DT these days.
Neal Morse gives a nod to his old outfit, Spock's Beard with a reading of June. Morse is a musical treasure, one of America's greatest, and he's always on point and never off the mark. This track has more than a bit in common with the best work of Graham Nash in CSN. A very pretty respite with some gorgeous group vocals.
All Fall Down is the metallic riff rocker of the set and by far the heaviest tune off the band's self titled debut. Steve Morse tears this apart with fleet fast fingered dalliances up and down the neck, and Portnoy is with him every step of the way. If Steve had been in a band with this much firepower in the nineties, he'd have been riding in jets instead of piloting them. About two and a half minutes into this tune, Larue and Morse take things into the stratosphere with a bit of nuclear powered soloing. Magnificent.
The soundtrack number, Everything Changes is next and it is a cinematic wonder. Majestic as anything, this is one of Flying Colors best moments, and it's even better live than in the studio. Neal Morse's recorder patches are gorgeous under McPherson's singing, and it gets little better than this. It's a great song, being played and sang by a group of musicians who are at the very top of the hill, and all I can say is that I can't see where they take it from here.
The train leaves the station with Infinite Fire the same place they left off with their debut, and that feels just right. If by now they haven't made their case the case was thrown, a frame up, for whether you're a fan of pop music, prog rock, hard rock, or even heavier, there is plenty here for any music lover to sink their teeth into. Flying Colors is one of the most powerful musical machines on the planet as of today, and if I were you, I'd already be ordering this one up in whatever configuration works for you. Music this great deserves to be supported by dollar signs, so get out your wallets and help keep great rock alive, OK?
Bridge The Gap will do just what it says - it's the record that will find Michael Schenker returning to the major leagues in the very near future. It's filled with great riffs, compelling melodies, the best set of songs on a Schenker project in ages, and it finally sounds like Mr. Schenker is back in a band.
Michael Schenker is at the top of his game - riding higher in the saddle than he has in decades, rifling off riffs that make you ask, "How does he do that?," soloing with smoldering intensity and his trademark melodicism, and writing tunes you want to hear again and again. Whist the mad axeman's guitar playing is why we attend, this record finds him partnered with veteran shouter Doogie White - the singing Scotsman has written the best melodies and lyrics to be heard on a Schenker project in a great many years, and there is something magical that happens when Michael is matched up with his Scorpions brothers, Herman Rarebell and Francis Buccholz.
The last five years have seen Michael steadily climbing, and gaining confidence along the way - once hindered by the anxieties of stage fright, and all-to-many incidents of infamy, it would appear that the guitar master has settled into a place in which he finds peace, and full command of his considerable creativity. I don't know of a hard rock guitarist who doesn't hold the man in high esteem, and now they'll be back to chasing his lead.
Photo by Tallee Savage
The album kicks off with the brief instrumental, Neptune Rising, and Schenker catapults out of the gates with ricocheting shards of molten metal over the top of Wayne Findlay's heavier than heavy seven string rhythm - no wonder the Neptune is set to become the next guitar out of the Dean factory. This is a brief proclamation, and I hear a bit of Celtic melody which may, or may not be a nod off the hat to frontman Doogie White, who rides in on a sea of Schenker guitars to belt out Where The Wild Winds Blow - I suspected that after the success of Before The Devil Knows You're Dead off the last MS Temple of Rock album, that White may have found himself a job, and I'm glad he got the nod. When you hear the chorus, you'll know why, as well - it's the most compelling song to lead off a Schenker album in eons. This will be a barnburner onstage. I love that Schenker gives us eight bars of acoustic soloing before he breaks out the big guns, and when he does, it's like going back home again.
Herman Rarebell is in rare form on this album, and his exceptional drumming features large on every cut - he leads the charge into Horizons, a tune the band had been playing on their last tour - it might be the weakest track on the album, but it's still a winner - that's how good this album really is. The double timed bass drums and Buccholz's pumping bassline set the tone, and Schenker is flying on this solo - it's straight balls out, and White's upper range is the most impressive it's ever been.
Lord Of The Lost And Lonely is another Schenker riff that has that type of timing he always breaks out that has listeners wondering how he always finds the one, and back again - White and Schenker agree magnificently on the sing-song chorus, and Michael's riffing through the verses bring back a thousand great guitar memories of his storied past. His solos sound more composed on this album than they have in ages, but I'm guessing that he's just found his personal zone - he knows where he wants to go, and he goes there. Dare I say that this band could go out and play this album stem to stern and not piss off a single fan? Yeah, it's that strong.
One thing I love about this record is that the band sounds German. Schenker going toe to toe with Rarebell and Buccholz has a power and lockstep precision that rings of fine German engineering. Rock 'n Roll Symphony is another raging rocker that steamrolls across the tundra with a swagger that Doogie White rides like a Panzer across the desert. White brought his A-game to these sessions - you can hear that he took this gig very seriously, and put his heart and soul into every moment. Another memorable riff by the master.
To Live For The King is the tune that closest echoes White's performance on the last album, but this is a definite step ahead, and it sounds to me like the ex-Rainbow singer may have listened to some early eighties classics before he sat down to put pen to paper - this sounds like what might have come of a meeting between Schenker and Ronnie Dio. However, White is his own guy here, and I throw that out just as a reference to you readers - a little road map to get you to the store and plonking down your hard earned for this well deserving piece of art. Schenker's solo is as sizzling as any he has ever laid down, and this track is guitar nirvana.
Schenker and his anthropod brothers sound like they haven't missed a day since they recorded Lovedrive, and never more so than on The Land Of Thunder - Rarebell has never gotten his due as a drummer, and by God, now he must. He drives this tune, and you go, "Yeah, The Scorpions sound had all to do with his syncopated genius." I'll be damned if I'm not sitting here wondering if White hasn't written the best hard rock set of melodies in ages. I can't think of a single disc that has hit with more regularity in way too long. Brilliant.
Temple Of The Holy is another staggering riff that is tremendously heavy, but it's not weighed down due to the melody and Rarebell's accents. Wayne Findlay throws in some lovely Middle Eastern infused synth pads, and Schenker sounds absolutely inspired. Buccholz tosses down a massively distorted bass pad which Michael skates across with passion, melody, and six string fury. If I have a complaint, it may be in the tones on Schenker's rhythm pickup when he solos in certain spots - why doesn't this guy have a signature model amplifier yet? His playing is near perfect, but I admit to some niggling niggling over certain guitar tones. A small gripe, but this solo could have sounded even yet better, methinks. Still, it's a marvelous solo, and you can certainly not be blamed for giving me grief for nitpicking a small point.
The rage continues with Shine On - another great Desert Song kind of offset rhythm that is set straight by White's tremendous vocal melody. Buccholz's bass is huge again, and it sets nicely in the mix next to Schenker's layers of guitars. Michael is finally breaking free of some molds he's been in for the last few years, and he's back to creating single note patterns and leads that we simply haven't heard before - he's once again the creator, and not just going over places he may have been in the past - the whole beauty of this record is that it sounds like exactly where we had hoped he would be later in his career - taking chances and doing what he does best, and that is composing great rock 'n' roll.
Bridges We Have Burned starts off with some patented Schenker balladisms, but then a sizzlingly flanged cymbal pattern thrusts the tune into another mid-tempo stomper, and once again, hats off to Herman. The is classic melodic metal, and I can't imagine any heavy rock fan not adoring this number. It kind of reminds me of the McAuley/Schenker Group's chestnut, Shadows Of The Night.
Michael Schenker has been climbing steadily for the last few years, and I've been waiting for him to return to his legendary riff writing, and he finally has with Bridge The Gap - Because You Lied is another one, and his soloing over the odd changes is inspired. White's vocal is wildly echoed across the track, and when he and the boss go jousting on the outro, it's Zeppelin-esque in the best sense.
This is a very heavy album, make no bones about it - it's very contemporary in its sheer breadth, but it's always so compellingly melodic that the heavy never sounds weighty. It's like a 300 pound prizefighter without an ounce of fat - there's no flab, it's as taut and tight as anything. Black Moon Rising is another anthemic chorus that should see fists pumping across the globe in 2014. Schenker sounds like he's having a blast soloing over a slightly industrial backing before the band returns into a huge bit of chorusing to put the tune to bed.
Dance For The Piper sums up the case nicely - heavy, hummable guitars, an irresistible beat, and again White seems to have reached much deeper than he has on any project in his past - he's never been bad, it's just that on this album he has achieved a certain greatness - not many have an album this good in them on their best day, and as he should. Doogie is getting better all the time, and that's maybe the message of this entire record. Everyone here is playing at their apex, and they're reaching deeper and mining pure gold. A happy day for rock 'n' roll.
Thanks to Michael Schenker, Peter Noble, and Felicitas Siegel at In-Akustik Records.
There's not much better than to have a great slab of music fall on your lap on a crisp fall morning in front of the fireplace, and today, that slab of music is from Lisbon's The Rising Sun Experience, who have just released their second long player, Beyond The Oblivious Abyss.
The record covers a lot of stylistic ground, but suffice to say that if you dig psychedelic rock that involves great guitars, heavy Hammond organ, throbbing basslines, and cool drumming, you're going to really enjoy this album.
It's a short album, coming in at around a half hour, but that's a good thing in my eyes. I've heard way too many overly long CDs, in fact, I'm of the opinion that 75 minute records did the industry no good, and actually great harm. Think about it - how many double albums were really worth it? Only a few, and they were rare. I'll take a great snack over a lousy feast anytime.
Beyond The Oblivious Abyss is a song suite of sorts, there are three songs that lead into a five piece suite entitled Wasted Dreams of Red Flowers.
Countries Off... is the opener, and it's a blissful sounding message of despair if there ever was one. The lyrics reflect the darkness of our days, but the sizzling combo sounds like aliens at Woodstock - the percolating percussion of Santana, the guitar histrionics framed perfectly by an insistent riff, and let's bless once again the sound of the full tilt Hammond organ. Almost eight minutes long, and it's over way too soon.
Anthemic psychedelia always thrills me, and The Integrity brings back the ghost of Alvin Lee's greatest moment of I'd Love To Change The World, but this updated sermon rocks harder and with a bit more wattage, but those softly picked acoustic guitars sound so sweet when topped with echo drenched distorted guitar leads, and the howling Hammond. This is great stuff, and this song is worth the price of the album. This is the single - should be a hit, if there were truly still hits....
Infinite Space Of A Man Without Character is a steamrolling rocker than dizzily steps through its changes with a great drum track, and guitar riffs that will have you jumping for joy. Nelson Dias' voice suits the material to a T, and the whole band is on fire. The best minute and a half song I've heard all year.
Wasted Dreams Of Red Flowers begins with pastoral cymbals and guitars, but soon gives way to the heaviest riffing yet to be found on the record - Bird Of Paradise, which posits the notion that many of has have pondered and posited, that which asks how do we escape this nightmarish world and get back to our true home. The wah guitars are huge, even making it over the Hammond's eternal howl - this is what I often hoped Vanilla Fudge would sound like.
Red Monkey Flower sounds like U2 jamming with early Genesis - beautiful, and all too brief.
Snapdragon is only a minute three second sample, but it's pure joy with everything we like jammed into a brief moment.
Swirling winds, meandering drums, and sweet synth musings softly announce Garden Mums, track four of the song suite, and it's properly psychedelic - some of this stuff is slow enough to be Floyd-worthy, and that's as high a praise as I can give music of this ilk. You could loop this and have yourself one great meditation.
Back to the end, we have Cosmos - where we came from and where we're going. This is all sustained guitar and galaxies gushing by in a motion so slow as to be spiritually soporific. I've been where this is going, and it feels like home.
Rock Ain't Near Dead™ is a concept. It's taking the argument, or at least the discussion of, 'is rock 'n' roll dead?' and turning it upside down, inside out, and top to bottom. It's soon to make its debut on LA Talk Radio, and has already established a presence in social media. It's a mission that aims to further perpetuate this thing called rock 'n' roll. To hold it up and examine it from all sides, past, present, and future. To further its cause, and its call.
It all began back in the spring of this year - there was this great discussion being held on my favorite weekly podcasts - 65amps Lunch with Dan Boul. In addition to being the founder, head chief, and bottle washer at one of the world's finest boutique amp companies, Dan is not only a great webcast show host, he's a serious student of rock 'n' roll - having been raised in the region of rock's birth down in Missouri, he also earned his keep as a professional guitarist both here and abroad in England, where he solidified his love of all British amplification. Somewhere in between, he lived in Atlanta, where he worked for the legendary musical instrument retailer, Rhythm City. There, he toiled side by side with another gear freak who turned his passion into what's become almost 15 years with Sheryl Crow's band, guitarist and musical director, Peter Stroud. Dan walks the walk, and he can sure enough talk the talk.
Dan Boul hanging with the King of Cool, Earl Slick
This discussion of Dan's looked at rock 'n' roll's place in the world as of today. Great rock is not most generally seen, or heard in the mainstream, its having been replaced by corporate avarice, greed, a generation that has mistakenly been raised on the concept that music should be free, and an absence of any act that could be described as visionary. There's no young Hendrix on the scene, no Pink Floyd standing in the shadows, and to my knowledge, no Beatles in any caverns in Germany as we speak. The question was posited - "Is rock 'n'roll dead?" The gauntlet was thrown down.
This type of conjecture stopped me in my tracks - I spend most of my waking hours immersed in all things rock. From morning to night, I am scouring the planet for great rock, and doing all I can to support artists I feel who, if perhaps are not exactly saving rock 'n' roll, are at least keeping it more than afloat. I've heard a tremendous resurgence in the quality of rock music I'm hearing these days from any number of genres - whether it's Tony Reed up in Washington state putting out album after album of ridiculously good heavy music under several guises as an ace guitarist, singer, songwriter, and producer, Steve Hackett leading a prog rock revival unrivaled by anything since the days of ELP and Yes, great new bands such as The Temperance Movement and The Graveltones from England, 68-75 out of Dan's old stomping grounds in Atlanta, or Eric Gales flying the Hendrixian guitar hero flag high with Pinnick Gales Pridgen, there is literally more good music going down than I can handle. Henceforth, Rock Ain't Near Dead™.
Eric Gales crossing the boundaries
Mr. Boul and myself have been continuing this discussion for months, and somewhat serendipitously the concept grew legs and has started become its own entity. It was cropping up on his show with great regularity, and it was appearing in my blog, Rock Guitar Daily, and in my overly busy presence in the social media. It became a platform from which we could not only look back at rock 'n' roll's hallowed past, but we could also look closely at what was going on today, and even hope to help steer where it goes in the future. Rock Ain't Near Dead, no more than is the blues, no more than is jazz. It's sure evolving, though.
Our first venture is taking shape as an internet radio show, Rock Ain't Near Dead™, which will make its debut on LA Talk Radio here very shortly, perhaps as soon as mid-November. We're looking at formats, features, guests, and exactly how we want to get the ball rolling. We've both spent years garnering good relationships within the musical community, and we've made some amazing friends who will now make for some amazing guests. In the last year I've worked with many musical luminaries - Glenn Hughes, David Coverdale, dUg Pinnick, Greg Lake, Leslie West, Orianthi, Steve Lukather, and the list goes on - it's now time to reach even higher, step up a little closer, and do even more to help great folks like these in furthering their missions. In addition to these great classic rockers, I've been at the forefront with new bands and acts such as Canada's Monster Truck, Scorpion Child, Andrew 50 Watt, The Temperance Movement, The Graveltones, and many, many more. Indeed, rock may not be currently King, but maybe it's not a good time for kings, and a better time for those who come from a position of love, passion, and integrity, as opposed to birth right.
Glenn Hughes and Andrew 50 Watt preparing to make a racket!
In addition to our radio show, we'll also be setting up a full service website, the requisite social media outlets, and there is even talk of a small batch record label with the Rock Ain't Near Dead™ imprimatur. We're even looking at partnering up with a recording studio to make new projects happen. I'm not sure how far this can go, but we intend to find out, because I will tell you this. One can bitch, one can moan, one can carp all one likes about the sad state of affairs, but the day will be made by those who approach the issue from a standpoint of positivity and action. Don't bitch, get off your ass and make something happen. As Carlin said, "If you don't like the weather, move."
We're moving. We're working. We're getting ready to have an impact, have a lot of fun, and maybe more than anything, to get everyone - you, me, everyone, doing something to keep rock 'n' roll moving, to keep it alive and doing fine, and to even be ready when the next Giant appears - "If you build it, they will come."
Rock 'N' Roll needs some help - this much is certain. We live in a time in which the music business has gone so wrong that the proposed saviors are mostly pirates. Music must again be of true value - both sonically and economically, and that's going to take hard work, innovation, and great perseverance, because there are a great many with a great amount of control who think the status quo is just fine. We know it's not, and there are many of our breed who are reinventing a struggling business model.
At any rate, we're going to have some great fun, some great laughs, and we're going to attempt to entertain as well as to be entertained - for that was always rock's promise - not just to be entertaining, but to be enlightening and entertaining in all directions. I'm hoping that everyone who reads this will wish us well, and join us upon this journey - for it's true, Rock Ain't Near Dead....
Mos Generator follows up their excellent 2013 studio release, Nomads, with the perfect next step, a smoking live set - it's most appropriately titled, in keeping with their love of their musical heritage, In Concert.
Tony Reed has been a favorite artist of mine since I came across a track from another one of his projects, Stone Axe, on a compilation disc presented by Classic Rock Magazine back in 2009. Reed is often touted as an obsessive encyclopedia of all things seventies, and while that's true, his hands can also be heard playing guitar, singing, writing, and producing some of todays heaviest hitters (Saint Vitus, Blood Of The Sun). After a lengthy hiatus, he reconvened his Mos Generator brothers, bassist Scooter Haslip and drummer Shawn Johnson, and the band has been blessing audiences with their heavy, but melodic musings - someone somewhere just called them them amalgamation of Dio and Ozzy Sabbaths, and I think if you toss in some Free and a bit of psychedelics, you're just about there. A blissful stew of rock.
In Concert is a limited edition LP on vinyl with only a limited number of copies pressed, so order them today - recorded at Rockfabrik in Nuremberg, Germany on March 25, 2013, it's a blinder of a set, and bound to be a collectible all too soon. If you dig heavy, melodic rock, don't miss it.
Reed rings in the set with some tasty, full stack, Gibson drenched soloing before he announces, "We're the Mos Generator," tosses off a moment of feedback, then it's off to the riff races with set opener, Lumbo Rock, off the band's 2007 release, Songs For Future Gods - Mos Generator often sounds like a three headed beast - the cohesion and balance between the three members is that of an amazingly well-oiled machine. By the end of this tune you will be a convert, if you're not already.
Next, it's onto a track from Nomads, Cosmic Ark, and it's a thicker, heavier beast of a riff that evokes everything you love about early Sabbath, but also manages to sound very today. I've said it before, and I'll say it again - Nomads was the record the Sabs should have made last year, but didn't. Whether he's belting out a vocal, or tossing off a solo that is both compelling and technically very cool, he's got rockstar plastered all over him - his unison bends that close out this tune remind me of why I picked up a guitar in 1974, and also makes me want to pick one up and play today. And they're just getting warmed up.
Lonely One Kenobi might have been the mightiest riff of 2012, and it might be even mightier in a live setting - when Reed and band swagger through the verses, then stutter step back into the changes, I'm in heaven. I unabashedly love this band, and this song is why - half way through they back it down into an instrumental interlude that stands proudly beside anything that they knelt before as neophytes. They listened, they learned, then they took the ball and ran with it. I talk about Reed, but don't think for a minute that his band mates aren't just as mighty.
More feedback, and then a riff that throws a little bit of Southern Rock in with the metal, and again, it's off to the rock races. Silver Olympus is another off of Future Gods, and it gets heavier by the minute, until Reed takes of on a skittering, sliding piece of guitar wizardry that leads into a blistering bass note solo that may take some paint off your wall, and some plaster off the ceiling. I love that Reed's soloing is not of the shredfest breed, but rather it's steeped in Iommi, Kossoff, and maybe even some Blackmore just for seasoning. He asks at the end of the track, "You like that heavy metal, don't you?" Yes, we do.
It's back to 2005 and the band's The Late Great Planet Earth album for On The Eve - a heavy basher that rumbles with a furious low end that Reed uses to frame his midrange-y heavy riffing, and melodic vocal. There's a great moving riff under his vocal verses, and you wonder how he pulls it all off. The power of the power trio has never been more wonderfully displayed. The band slows it down for a section that wouldn't sound out of place on a long lost Bad Company album, then it's back to the floor with the pedal for a heavy round up with another blistering set of string stretching, as the rhythm section prods and pushes the guitarist at every turn.
You've gotta have balls to call your instrumental Godhand Iommi, and Reed has 'em, uses 'em, and pulls it off both respectfully and by never dipping into being a copyest, though I think you'll dig his Whole Lotta Love quote near the end. This is a masterclass in heavy metal guitar - everything that's good and eschewing the bad. Well played, sir.
This Is The Gift Of Nature rounds out the set, and it's a great set ender, with it's moody intro that features a nicely moving rhythm figure that's underpinned perfectly by Scooter Haslip's bass - Johnson joins in, and it a stone cold groove that just gets heavier and heavier. Mos Generator wins by not just being heavy, not just being melodic, not just being literarily inspired, but by combining all of these facets into a very hard rock. "God bless this gift of nature," says the song - I say, God bless Mos Generator. Buy this disc before you miss out on it - it is a heavy metal classic.
The Winery Dogs pulled into Sacramento for a show at Harlow's Night Club last night, and proceeded to blow the roof off the joint. You know I'm given to hyperbole, but if you know of a three piece with more bonafide fire power than Richie Kotzen, Billy Sheehan, and Mike Portnoy, let me know. Thankfully, the stage was small, so my attention couldn't drift from anyone for long, not that they'd let you. There were the obligatory solo spots, but when you have such brilliance occurring in every song, I wonder how necessary they are, except as a device for everyone to get a breather for a few moments.
They came out with their best shot, Elevate, and the crowd went bonkers, singing every word, and plunging fists skyward at the appropriate instrumental moments. This show, by all rights, should be happening in a larger venue, but that's more about the messed up states of our economy and our radio at this point.
I almost called this review Portnoy's Complaint, but that's too gimmicky, and I'll explain - there was a point in the festivities where not everybody's favorite drummer (but arguably the best drummer in rock - at least I think so) got a little pissed at some shitty lighting cues and he had a go at his microphone stand. I would have been pissed, too, and he followed his mini-tirade with even better, even more intense playing. I don't know why anyone gives the guy any stick, but I'm guessing it's because he's a very flashy drummer in a time when shoe gazing and false humility have value. Whether it's as a hard rock basher with both finesse and furiosity (yeah, I know it's not a word, but dig it), or as a technical magician with his other projects, the guy has his world by the ass and ain't afraid to let your world know it. I call that rock - look up The Who if you don't get it. For my money, Portnoy is currently the most valuable player on the planet.
Richie Kotzen - could it be that he's been this brilliant all along, and just never had a band that reflected that brilliance appropriately? I'm not sure who's been in his bands, and I'm sure they've been good, but maybe just not quite this good. I was disappointed when I heard this project lost John Sykes as a frontman, but that's me missing Sykes on the scene more than anything - Kotzen is a better fit. He's looser and more off the cuff than the ex-Whitesnake guitarist, and his bluesy take on hard rock puts me in mind of a guy with Marriott's voice, but also with blinding skills as a guitarist. In this setting the world should now get the greatness of Kotzen's astounding musicality.
Then there's Billy Sheehan - he looks like he's having so much fun with this band, it's fantastic - mind you, he's always happy when he's playing, but watching him exchange huge riffs and grins with Portnoy throughout the set is a joy to behold. I often wonder how much his audiences realize - he's rock's most established bassist by a few blocks. Sure there are plenty of other great players, but no one combines technique with groove to this extent. And, he can sing - every time he went for the mic, I smiled - he's spent endless hours doing classic covers early in his career, and you can still hear the right markers.
So, there's a blurb on each fellow, but it's as a band that this bunch shines. They remind me of a stripped down Humble Pie, but with even better chops. I've been spending a lot of quality time with the new 4 disc set from Marrott and company, and it's been great to remember just how well versed was that classic British band. They all sang, they played with intensity and passion, and they all gave it 110%, and the same can be said of The Dogs. When I first heard their debut, I wondered if the listening public would be listening close enough, and by God, they were. The crowd last night was with them for every step, and by the time they slid into their encore with the Elvin Bishop classic, Fooled Around And Fell In Love, it was a love affair.
I'm not going to get into specific moments and songs here - suffice to say that they played the album brilliantly, they busted out a few old nuggets, and the best is surely yet to come. But what a great start this band is off to - you could see it in their eyes as they rifled through the first few songs - yes, even American audiences grasp it, dig it, and love it. They've already wooed much of the world, and now they are barnstorming across the States - I insist that you get off your ass and see them - you'll be damned glad you did. This is real rock being done right, and it's to damned good too not continue - nope, Rock Ain't Near Dead....
Am I crazy for thinking they ought to add Whole Lotta Love to the encores? Just me, thinking that they'd sound so good playing that, and the sheer bravado would fit.
