Doors When You're Strange DVD: Hot, Sexy And Depp

DVD Review: When You're Strange: A Film About The Doors

Although there have been scores of mostly unauthorized (and mostly bad) documentaries made about Jim Morrison and the Doors over the years, director Tom DeCillo's When You're Strange stands out for a number of reasons.

Made with the full cooperation of surviving Doors members Ray Manzarek, John Densmore, and Robby Krieger, When You're Strange includes plenty of never-before-seen footage of this legendary band both live onstage and in recording sessions from throughout the band's brief, but meteoric career. Many of these unreleased scenes are also quite revealing, as they show Morrison drunk, uncensored, and even somewhat belligerent at times in the studio. What's most surprising, though, is the way Morrison mostly still holds his own once the tape starts to roll.

Even though Morrison's Jekyll and Hyde antics have been previously well-documented in books like Jerry Hopkins and Danny Sugerman's No One Here Gets Out Alive and movies like Oliver Stone's The Doors, seeing the actual drunken Lizard King on film in some of his more, shall we say, "altered states" of consciousness, is a fascinating sight — even if it's in a trainwreck sort of sense.

The concert footage here likewise shows Morrison fully engaged in the unpredictable hijinks he became famous for — and which during the band's latter days probably sold more tickets for the shows than the music itself.

What is most remarkable about these live scenes is the way the band keeps its collective cool, and soldiers on like the consummate pros they are, even as Morrison wildly rants and raves, or occasionally just clean passes out onstage mid-song. What's also notable is just how clean most of the live footage looks here considering its age. Although some of it is being seen for the first time, even the previously released material looks to have been considerably cleaned up, and looks a lot less grainy than in some of the unauthorized knock-offs out there.

Narrated by Johnny Depp, When You're Strange mostly treads ground that will be familiar to fans in retelling the Doors' story. It hits on all of the major points, from the fateful meeting of Morrison and Manzarek in art school, through the band's residency at L.A.'s Whisky A Go-Go, to Morrison's infamous bust at a 1969 Miami concert for indecent exposure.

Its treatment of Morrison is most notable, though, for the way that it neither sensationalizes nor sugarcoats his journey from rock and roll sex symbol to pathetic, bloated, and drunken, but mostly frustrated poet. You see him in the early days, and get a sense of his populist appeal as he mingles with the crowd during a stadium show where the Doors once shared a bill with the Who. And you see him as a shadow of his former self in the weeks just before he was found dead in a bathtub in Paris.

Particularly interesting are several recurring scenes from a never-before-seen film showing the bearded, latter-day Morrison hitchhiking, and later driving through the southwestern desert, making stops at various roadside service stations and the like.

The way these scenes are filmed, you almost think for a second they are outtakes from the Oliver Stone biopic because they look and feel nearly identical in texture. What I have since learned is that these are apparently scenes from a self-made film by Morrison himself. If I'm wrong about this, though, I'd welcome a clarification — as I'm honestly still not 100% sure either way.

Extras on the DVD include the first-ever interview with Jim's father, retired Naval Admiral George C. Morrison, talking about his son's life and art. Not surprisingly, the Admiral was disapproving early on of both Jim's career choice and his lifestyle, but seems to have since made peace with his status as a legendary rock icon. Jim Morrison's sister is interviewed as well.

Originally seen in a limited theatrical release earlier this year — where it was screened mainly in art houses and at festivals like Sundance — When You're Strange is a sure to be welcomed home video viewing experience for Doors fans. It is also available on Blu-ray.

This article was first published as DVD Review: When You're Strange: A Film About The Doors at Blogcritics Magazine.

Springsteen/E Street Live In Hyde Park: Great Show, Sucky Package

Music DVD Review: Bruce Springsteen And The E Street Band - London Calling: Live In Hyde Park

Of the three official live DVDs from Bruce Springsteen & The E Street Band released over the past decade — and you can make that four if you count the Live At Hammersmith Odeon 1975 DVD included with the deluxe 30th anniversary version of Born To Run — this is by far the best of them.

Here is why.

London Calling: Live In Hyde Park may not feature the greatest fans' dream setlist ever. Hell, it doesn't even come from the tour that topped most of the recent hardcore wish lists (that distinction probably belongs to the 2007-08 tour behind the Magic album).

But it is the first time the full experience of a complete Springsteen/E Street Band show — start to stop — has successfully been documented on DVD. There are none of the screwy song-gaps of 2001's Live In New York City. Nor is there the disjointed sequencing of 2003's Live In Barcelona.

Rather, what you get here is the full-on experience, before a stadium of rabid British fans screaming and singing their lungs out exactly as it happened. This is about as close as it gets to being there.

It also doesn't hurt things one bit that Bruce and the E Street Band are absolutely on fire here. The first four songs are played at a such a rapid-fire, almost punk-rock sort of pace, they occur as a near blur.

Beginning with a craftily chosen cover of the Clash's "London Calling" and ending with the Born To Run chestnut "She's The One," Bruce and the E Street Band roar through this four-song opening sequence with such a ferocity you'd think they were playing for their very lives. Max Weinberg — who on the most routine of days plays his drums pretty damn hard — pounds the living crap out of the skins here.

Springsteen himself begins the show in a light blue-gray shirt, which by the end of these four songs is half-drenched in his own sweat. By the end of the sixth song, an audibly called-out "Out In The Streets," he is absolutely soaked.

As much as some hardcore fans have vociferously stated their preference for the Magic shows over the Working On A Dream tour documented here, the E Street Band sounds tighter here than at either of the two shows I personally witnessed on the former tour.

That said, the WOAD songs do bring down the energy level just a notch. On "Outlaw Pete," Bruce works the dramatic lyrics for all they are worth — and since he already has the crowd in the palms of his hands, they mostly oblige him. Still, I'll be the first to admit that this song doesn't rank high on my own list of favorites.

But on the title track of WOAD, Bruce works the crowd into a frenzy with one of his trademark fire and brimstone sermons about turning Hyde Park into a "house of love." Needless to say, the crowd eats this right up, and that same energy translates quite nicely on the DVD.

Other highlights here include Springsteen trying to make it back up the stairs to the stage during "Out In The Streets" in time for the chorus. "Keep it goin' Stevie," Bruce cries out laughing. To which Van Zandt replies "take your time." By the time Bruce is back up onstage, he says "are you nuts? Get me a fuckin' elevator...I'm sixty!"






Which brings up another reason why this is such a great concert document. The band seems to be having so much fun onstage, they can often barely contain themselves. During "Glory Days" in particular, Steve Van Zandt is cracking up so much, he can hardly get through his own vocal parts. Bruce himself gets in his own great comedy bit by shouting for "more cowbell."

As the sun finally starts to set on a concert which began hours earlier under daylight, the outdoor setting provides a gorgeous backdrop for a beautiful version of "Jungleland."

Underneath the graying London skies, Clarence Clemons nails the sax solo, as both audience and band are bathed in dramatic blue lighting. On the extras here, there is an equally dramatic scene where smoke rises from Springsteen during a beautifully delivered rendition of "The River" from England's "other festival" at Glastonbury.

London Calling: Live In Hyde Park is a great DVD, which probably stands as the best Springsteen/E Street Band concert document to date. That said, I also have to register my one personal bitch here — and it's a major one.

The packaging sucks.

London Calling: Live In Hyde Park comes in a fold-out cardboard sleeve, containing two pockets housing the actual DVDs. The pockets are so tight, you have to push the discs out to play them, which guarantees that the discs are going to get scratched over time, if not right off. On my very first play, I already experienced some scratch related glitches — on "Rosalita" for Pete's sake — that I've no doubt will only become worse over repeated plays.

Until Sony, Jon Landau, or whoever makes the packaging decisions on these things figures out that politically correct "green" packaging also needs to take the user-experience into account (a digi-pak would have been nice here), I strongly suggest that buyers house the discs outside of the package.

Other than that, I've no complaints with London Calling: Live In Hyde Park. None whatsoever.

This review was first published as Music DVD Review: Bruce Springsteen And The E Street Band - London Calling: Live In Hyde Park at Blogcritics Magazine.

Porcupine Tree Nail It On Their Second Live Concert DVD

Music DVD Review: Porcupine Tree - Anesthetize - Live In Tilburg Oct 2008

Now this is more like it.

Porcupine Tree's second official live DVD (and their first to be released on Blu-ray) is such a marked improvement over the British progressive rock band's previous attempt — 2006's Arriving Somewhere — it makes the former look like a mere test run for the real thing.

Recorded in October 2008 during a stop at Tilburg in the Netherlands, Anesthetize captures Porcupine Tree on two particularly hot nights during the Fear Of A Blank Planet Tour. The first big difference you notice here is in the video quality. Where Arriving Somewhere was often plagued by irritating, cheesy and often grainy looking video effects, director Lasse Holie wisely steers clear of any such artsy sideshows here, concentrating purely on the band and what is happening onstage.

Utilizing multiple cameras and angles, the end result comes about as close to actually being there as you can get. But the thing that really makes Anesthetize stand out is the way that the cameras divide the action equally between each of the band members.

Although PT singer/songwriter/guitarist Steven Wilson often gets the lion's share of the attention in this band — and rightly so — Anesthetize shows just how great the rest of these guys are as individual musicians, and how much of an actual "band" Porcupine Tree really is.

As much as this benefits all four musicians (or five, if you count perennial "guest" John Wesley on guitar and vocals), the one who emerges as the true star is drummer Gavin Harrison.

With many of the shots filmed from behind Harrison's kit, you see everything from the double-bass movements of his feet during "Halo" to the all of those little cymbals and bells he hits during the intricate drum parts on "Anesthetize." Harrison's status as a world-class skinsman is no secret to PT fans of course. But seeing it up close and personal is a revelation.

Likewise, the contributions of keyboardist Richard Barbieri and bassist Colin Edwin come into much sharper focus here. On "Anesthetize," you hear Edwin playing bass parts you never even knew were there before, and the sweep of Barbieri's keyboards during songs like "Dark Matter" and "Sentimental" is so deep it nearly swallows you. On the latter, there is also a very cool shot near the song's end where the keys themselves are reflected in Barbieri's ever-present shades.

Guest guitarist John Wesley's role (and when are they just going to make this guy a full band member, anyway?) is likewise revealing, particularly in how he delivers many of the guitar solos I'd always thought were played by Steven Wilson. The guitarist is also responsible for more of Porcupine Tree's vocals than I previously realized — particularly on songs requiring a higher vocal range than Wilson's, like "Way Out Of Here."

Anesthetize likewise boasts a magnificent sound mix that is rich in detail when it's needed, but also packs with plenty enough power to rattle the windows and piss off some neighbors.

Porcupine Tree fans should also find little, if any, fault with the setlist on Anesthetize. It kicks off with all six tracks from FOABP, going on to include most of its companion EP, Nil Recurring. From there you get a very generous sampling of tracks from Signify ("Dark Matter," "Sever," "Sleep Of No Dreaming"), In Abesntia ("Wedding Nails," "Strip The Soul"), Deadwing ("Halo") and more.

It's not always 100% perfect, though. During Steven Wilson's guitar solo on "Dark Matter," for example, there are points where the cameraman can't seem to decide whether to focus on Wilson's fingers on the fretboard or to shoot him from the chest up — so for a few seconds there, you have a headless Steven Wilson.

But when Anesthetize shines — which it does about 95% of the time — this is just about the best live concert film a fan could hope for, and a dramatic improvement over its DVD predecessor. They nailed it this time.



This article was first published as Music DVD Review: Porcupine Tree - Anesthetize - Live In Tilburg Oct 2008 at Blogcritics Magazine.

The Pineapple Thief: Breaking Up Is Hard To Do

Music Review: The Pineapple Thief - Someone Here Is Missing

They say that breaking up is hard to do. But sometimes, it also makes for some really great music.

In the case of British prog-rock upstarts The Pineapple Thief, the title of their new album gives much of what it's about away before a single note is even heard.

Someone Here Is Missing is, according to The Pineapple Thief's chief songwriter/guitarist/vocalist Bruce Soord, "a record of dark edges full of love and regret...my life in the last eighteen months, pretty much."

So yeah, move over Alanis, this appears to be Soord's breakup album. Hey, us guys can cry too, right?

That being said, Someone Here Is Missing also represents The Pineapple Thief's most fully realized work to date. The songs on this album are more tightly constructed and exquisitely recorded than anything the band has done up until this point, while at the same time sacrificing none of their prog-rock cred. You'll find no post-Gabriel Genesis sort of selling out here.

But what you will find is plenty of Bruce Soord pouring his heart all over his sleeve, and pretty much everything else in sight here.

With song titles like "Show A Little Love," "The State We're In," and of course the title track, it doesn't take a genius to see what inspired the songs on this album. The good news is that in between all of the lyrical heartbreak here, the band rises to the occasion like stallions and flexes their considerable musical muscle throughout.

The production on this album is also absolutely fabulous — often recalling the sort of channel separation that once made you want to lie in a closed-off room smack dab in the middle of a pair of Speakerlab towers back in the halcyon days of vinyl albums. In other words, do not download this album — at least not in poor sounding MP3 formats. This is music that is meant to be played on a proper stereo system, and quite loudly at that.

Musically, the album moves rather effortlessly from the lilting melodies of its most obvious breakup song "Barely Breathing" ("I never said enough to make it up to you") to the full-tilt metallic guitars of tracks like the title song and "Preparation for Meltdown" pretty much on a dime.

On the latter, lyrics like "they're burrowing within, and throttling my soul" are belied by haunting acoustic guitars before giving way to a full-on metallic assault reminiscent of some of Steven Wilson's (an obvious influence) heavier work with Porcupine Tree.

But bassist Jon Sykes is the guy who most earns his change here. On tracks like "3000 Days," the way that Sykes' bass lines dance around the metallic guitars and swelling keyboards recalls Chris Squire's most memorable work with Yes.

On "Show A Little Love," Sykes' bass throbs away in metronomic time, much like the broken heart Soord sings about in lines like "it's easy to see the walls are closing in for you and me," as metallic guitars and discordant synths hammer the point that much further home.

With Someone Here Is Missing, the Pineapple Thief continue to prove their mettle as one of the more promising new bands on the prog-rock scene, while growing by leaps and bounds as songwriters and studio technicians. Hopefully, enough folks will take notice of this album to mend poor old Bruce Soord's broken heart.

Bert Jansch: An Unknown Legend Comes To Seattle

Concert Review: Bert Jansch and Pegi Young At The Triple Door, Seattle, WA, 6/10/10

Sixty-six year old Scottish folk singer/songwriter/guitarist Bert Jansch (it's pronounced "Yanch") is a living legend who has had a profound and lasting influence on rock musicians ranging from Neil Young, Jimmy Page and Johnny Marr, to Pete Doherty and Devendra Banhart.

Yet, he is all but unknown in America outside of a small, but quite rabid group of devotees. However, that may be changing.

Jansch, a guitarist who Neil Young once called "as great as Jimi (Hendrix) was," has been opening the shows on Young's current Twisted Road tour. And despite the reputation of some of Neil's more boisterous fans for drunkenly yelling out things like "Rawk N' F**in' Roll" during the quieter moments of his shows, audiences at the shows have not only been uncharacteristically respectful of Jansch — quite a few of them also seem to be actually getting it.

Judging by Jansch's solo acoustic performance this past Thursday night at Seattle's Triple Door, it's not hard to see why. As a guitarist, Jansch is absolutely spellbinding to watch — a fact which became even more apparent in witnessing him work his magic in the small, intimate confines of Seattle's Triple Door.

Best known in the States as a founding member of sixties/seventies British folkie cult faves The Pentangle, Jansch's music is a product of that same indigenous scene which spawned the much better known Fairport Convention and its offshoots Sandy Denny and especially the great Richard Thompson.

But at the risk of offending Thompson fanatics everywhere, Jansch's guitar work is simply in a class all its own.

Watching Jansch's amazing guitar skills up close and personal at the Triple Door on Thursday night was almost like seeing two virtuoso guitarists doing their thing at once.

In a lot of ways, it reminded me of the first few times I saw Jeff Beck play live. In the same way I once was hypnotized by all those crazy things Beck does with a whammy bar and a Strat, the combination of Jansch's full-throttle hand strumming and intricate five fingered style of picking was something I simply couldn't take my eyes off of.

As a vocalist, Jansch sings in a gruff sounding, heavily accented deeply voiced sort of timbre. On Thursday night, the songs themselves veered from the ultra-traditional British and Scottish folk of "Rosemary Lane" and "The Old Triangle" (from his current album, The Black Swan — which the normally stingy Mojo Magazine recently afforded a rare five star rating), to darker, bluesier-based fare like "Duck In The Diamond" (a song Jansch said he wrote after spending a few nights out with notorious lunatic Pete Doherty).

Opening up for Jansch was Pegi Young, who was backed by a great six-piece band, including such notable players as bassist Rick Rosas, keyboardist Spooner Oldham, and multi-instrumentalist Ben Keith — all of whom are veteran sidemen in bands fronted by Pegi's famous husband, Neil Young.

Having seen Pegi open for Neil Young in much larger venues, I was particularly struck by how much better she comes across in an intimate space like the Triple Door. Her vocals were not only much stronger than I remember from the arena shows with Neil I've seen, but her stage presence also came across as much warmer — although she needs to work more on letting the audience know the names of the songs being played, especially when they are newer ones.

Concentrating on new songs like "Blue Sunday" and the title track of an upcoming album called Foul Deeds, Pegi also performed songs from her debut album, including the Spooner Oldham penned "I'm Not Through Loving You Yet."

While the band all sounded great playing Pegi's mostly twangy, folk and country-rock influenced songs, the always great Ben Keith was a particular standout on pedal steel and dobro. Guitarist Anthony Crawford also had some fine moments though, and Phil Jones more than passed the Old Grey Whistle Test on drums.

Both Pegi Young and Bert Jansch will resume opening the remaining shows on Neil Young's Twisted Road road tour next month — including a return date in Seattle — following a round of headlining club dates on the west coast.

If you make it out to any of these shows, be sure to get there early. Because whether he's headlining in a club or opening for Neil Young in an arena, Bert Jansch is not to be missed.

This review was first published as Concert Review: Bert Jansch and Pegi Young At The Triple Door, Seattle, WA, 6/20/10 at Blogcritics Magazine.

Porcupine Tree Anesthetize DVD Trailer: Out June 14



I can't wait for this.

Everyday I Write The Book

So my life these days is a lot like an Elvis Costello song. No, not "Accidents Will Happen" (although there's a grain of truth in that song as well). Actually, I was thinking more along the lines of "Everyday I Write The Book." Because, that is exactly what I'm spending most of my time doing -- writing a book. Not about Elvis Costello though. Actually it's a book about Neil Young.

The way this came about was I was contacted last winter out of a clear blue sky, by a guy named Robert Rodriguez, who also happens to be the author of a pair of great books about the Beatles called Fab Four FAQ and its sequel Fab Four FAQ 2.0. As it turns out, Rodriguez was already familiar with my work for Blogcritics (proving it's really true that you never know who is actually reading you on the Internet). He also happened to be spearheading a similar series of "FAQ books" for Hal Leonard Publishing.

Robert wanted to know if perhaps I was interested. I dunno...I mean , gee, ya' think?

When Rodriguez approached me about writing one of these, I was actually as surprised as I was thrilled. Actually, I just about fell out my chair. I mean, me? Write a damn book? You' gotta' be kidding, right?

I've always wanted to write a book, but could never really figure out what the topic would be or how to get started with it...something about all that discipline crap. Rodriguez solved both of these problems for me -- by giving me the motivation for the task at hand (not so much because of the whole money, fame and fortune thing, but more because of the whole idea of becoming an actual published author), and by handing me a topic.

Actually, Robert handed me a whole bunch of topics in the form of a list of artists I could choose from to write about. My first choice -- Bruce Springsteen (big surprise there, right?) -- was already claimed. So, after eliminating people like Bob Dylan (too damn hard) and Sir Mix-A-Lot (sure I know the guy, but "Baby Got Back" and "Posse On Broadway" aren't exactly gonna' be good for 150,000 words),  I settled on the next best thing. I went with Neil Young.

After months of back and forth negotiations between Robert, the folks at Hal Leonard, and myself, the final contract arrived this week, and I signed on the dotted line. So it's official. I'm honest to God really doing this.

Now, while I am absolutely thrilled that I'm very soon going to be an actual published author (the book comes out next year), don't let my elation fool you. I'm still flat broke, and I still need a damn job. Nothing has changed there. Contrary to popular belief, not everyone who writes books gets rich, or even makes a living at it. In fact, most authors are as broke as I am. For every Stephen King or J.K. Rowling out there, you'll find at least a hundred or so starving authors. I'm very happy with the terms I agreed to in the contract with HL Publishing, but believe me, I won't be getting rich doing this anytime soon.

Even so, for me this represents the fulfillment of a dream, so let me just say this again for emphasis:  I'm writing a damn book! Whoo-Hoo!!

The work has so far been very hard (150,000 words isn't gonna' be a walk in the park, even for a verbose sumbitch' like me), but also very fulfilling. In researching and reacquainting myself with Neil's amazing story, I'm learning a lot of things about him I never knew before, and rediscovering my love for his music by listening to all his albums again, only this time with a much more critical ear.

There have been a lot of nights writing until the sun comes up too. But every minute of it has been worth it. The narrative is also coming to me fairly easily -- at the rate I'm going I should be able to come in well ahead of my deadline.

So be on the lookout for Neil Young FAQ, coming soon to a Barnes And Noble near you sometime next year.

Did I mention I'm writing a damn book? Repeat after me, Glen Boyd: Published Author. Damn, I like the sound of that already!

The Rockologist: Growing Organic Music Communities In A Corporate World

These past few months, I've been doing a lot of reading and research about Neil Young for a book I'm writing about him due to be published next year. And I've been learning a whole lot about him — including a surprising amount of information for the first time.

Anyway, in conducting this research, and in reacquainting myself with Neil's amazing story, one thing has struck me above all else. Perhaps it is because of just who he is, or maybe just because he was in the right place at the right time, but as he was working his way up to become an iconic/legendary artist, Neil Young managed to find himself planted dead center in the middle of not one, but several locally based "scenes" that would go on to alter the course of popular music.

He was there in Canada — in Fort William and in Toronto, Ontario — when folk music and rock and roll began to coalesce itself into the hybrid sound that would eventually produce such influential artists as Joni Mitchell on the one hand and the Band on the other (not to mention Young himself).

He was there once again when the American West Coast began to similarly merge these sounds in the mid-'60s to produce the folk-rock boom which gave birth to the Byrds and to Young's own band with Stephen Stills, the Buffalo Springfield.

Neil Young was also there when this same sound evolved into the beautiful, trademark four-part harmonies of Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young — the country/folk-rock supergroup who provided the eventual blueprint for every West Coast country-rock band which would follow in their wake, from the Eagles and Poco on down through latter-day midwest acolytes like the Jayhawks and Wilco.

Anyway, this article is not so much about Neil Young per se, as it is about these geographically indigenous music communities themselves, as well as the many others which both preceded and followed them.

So the big questions here are these: first, how did a guy like Neil Young stumble into such preordained scenes in the first place (and was it actually by accident or, rather, by design), and second, are such localized, organically grown cultural movements even possible within the music landscape of today?

The short answer is, at least in the case of Neil Young, no! Absolutely none of these things happened by accident. Neil Young, in fact, played a major role in helping to shape the future of every movement in which he ever found himself involved.

As for lightning being able to strike twice, history proves that such is absolutely possible, but conditions have to be absolutely right.

From the early days of jazz, blues, and rock and roll to the more recent phenomenons of grunge and hip-hop, the single most unifying factors in such organically grown musical communities have not surprisingly also been the most common ones of satisfying a shared need based on the cultural, musical, and often political conditions of the times.

Here where I live in Seattle, for example, the early '90s grunge-rock movement was a product of everything from the archaic local liquor laws governing live music at the time to our own rather depressing gray and rainy weather — which has no doubt contributed to Seattle's high suicide rate, as well as our unique penchant for breeding serial killers like Ted Bundy and Gary "The Green River Killer" Ridgeway.

Back in the late '80s, when local rock musicians found themselves locked out of playing cover tunes at local bars by short-sighted politicians, they instead took to rehearsal studios located in dingy, burned-out downtown warehouses and concentrated on making original music.

Since Seattle has always been at its core a "hard music" sort of town — from the Sonics and Hendrix to Metal Church and Queensryche and finally to Nirvana and Soundgarden — there was never any doubt a music movement out of Seattle wasn't going to be based, at least in part, on metal.

But there was also this uniquely sort of f-you, in-your-face, punk-rock attitude about it. And let's not forget that all that gray Seattle atmosphere can tend to make one's thoughts turn somewhat — well, shall we say, inward?

So this atmosphere of artistic regression eventually led to indie labels like Sub Pop and C/Z Records making homespun recordings, and as news began to spread by both word of mouth and in underground publications like The Rocket, makeshift venues like the all-ages OK Hotel began to promote their own live gigs.

The flannel and the rest of the '90s fashion bullshit was just a product of the natural Seattle environment. It's cold here, okay? The long, flailing, stringy hair likewise served to keep our rain-soaked ears warm. In other words, it was an accident.

Nonetheless, from Charles Peterson's groundbreaking concert photographs to Kurt Cobain's lyrics (which so perfectly captured the Seattle experience of isolation, depression, and natural youthful angst), a national movement was soon born.

Why?

Because it captured a need to express the national zeitgeist of its unique time — borne out of the first Bush era with all of the accompanying economic uncertainty, the first Gulf War, and the rest of the social divide that came along with it — as well as the need for '90s Seattle rock fans to emerge from their cubbyholes and just get out there and dance again.

Is that really so hard to understand?

The hip-hop movement which sprang out of New York right around the same time (okay, maybe it was a few years earlier), likewise came about by the same sort of fortunate accident.

In this case, street DJs threw impromptu parties in the parks during the dying days of late-'70s disco. As one DJ would mimic the art of disco mixmasters manipulating records on two turntables, another MC would rap freestyle rhymes over them into a microphone broadcast over a loudspeaker.

The difference here — in what is one of the most remarkable historical cases of such an organically driven musical movement (on record at least) — is the way the New York rap scene so quickly spread across the country and, initially at least, on mostly racial lines. This spawned numerous regional scenes — from the "Miami Bass" of the south coast, to the electro-funk and eventual "gangsta rap" of the west coast.

As the original innovators of the style, New York rappers took things one step further as they began to take on an increasingly strident, political tone (Grandmaster Flash, Public Enemy, KRS-One and Boogie Down Productions) on the one hand, and incorporate harder rock and metal influences into the mix (Run-DMC, Beastie Boys) on the other.

This sort of organic, populist artistic movement in rock and roll has some of its earliest roots in the psychedelic movements some 35 years prior which sprang up simultaneously in San Francisco (Jefferson Airplane, Grateful Dead, etc.) and in London (Pink Floyd) during the mid-to-late '60s. Ditto for the punk-rock movements which burst out of New York (Ramones, New York Dolls) and London (Sex Pistols, The Clash) in the late '70s.

The common denominator in both of these examples is that each organic musical community began with a group of disenfranchised artists reacting to the artistic (and often sociopolitical) conditions of their time, who then banded together to form a uniquely organic community of like-minded outcasts and cultural misfits, ultimately growing to satisfy a much larger void in the general culture, thus forever impacting it.

Could such a thing even be possible now? Color me the eternal optimist, but despite the obstacles involved, I'd like to believe that the answer is yes.

The political and cultural conditions are certainly present. Pop music today exists in a vacuum like no other time since the pre-British Invasion days of white bread pop acts like Pat Boone and the other Fabian-styled teen idols of that particular era.

And thanks to the Internet the ability to zone in on a singularly directed movement with the ability to impact the larger culture has likewise become impossibly diluted. The corporate software executives running sites like MySpace would like you to think of it as some wild, wild west atmosphere when, in fact, it's nothing of the sort.

It's a lie.

While the wide-open atmosphere that such access has provided anyone who thinks that he/she/they can actually create meaningful music has afforded them — not to mention the ability to get it out there to the unguarded masses in a way like never before — the overall result is something more similar to an over-sized cyber junkyard.

Finding that rare diamond in the much-larger coalmine has become something more like finding the proverbial needle in a haystack. So when was the last time you went searching for your lost wallet at the garbage dump?

You want to talk corporate rock? At least in the original, old-school music business model, the corporations we were talking about were Warner Brothers, Capitol, and Columbia Records. These days, your music is more likely to come through the delivery systems of folks like Microsoft, Google, Verizon, and Samsung — the same folks who are outsourcing your tech support questions about why your computer just froze to some guy in India.



You have to wonder — hip, pony-tailed IT geek-guy aside of course — just how many actual music guys are in that boardroom meeting come Monday morning?

The political and cultural conditions for the next great revolution in music, however, are as right as rain, right? Perhaps more now than ever. So, please, for the sake of humanity... let's just get on with it.

Step away from your computers, your iPods, and your cellphones. Get out of the house and learn to smell humanity again.

And while you're at it, if you are a musician, it's time to get on with creating the next big thing. If you are a listener or even an armchair critic, it's also time to get out there in the trenches and learn to dance again. The future of humanity hangs in the balance. Seriously.

For the sake of God, country, and the world, we are counting on you!

Vive La Révolution!

This article was first published as The Rockologist: Growing Organic Music Communities In A Corporate World at Blogcritics Magazine.

Steve Hackett's Best Album Since Spectral Mornings Just Keeps On Sustaining

Music Review: Steve Hackett - Out Of The Tunnel's Mouth

Although his career has had its fair share of ups and downs — from the highs of his work in the seventies with Genesis, to the relative low of his album with prog-rock "supergroup" GTR (which inspired the now-famous one-word review "SHT") — I've always admired Steve Hackett as a guitarist.

In particular, Hackett's albums with Genesis showed him to be a strikingly versatile and original guitarist with many different sides to offer that band, back when they were still more interested in experimenting with the boundaries of what rock music had to offer, than in simply cranking out the hits.

Several examples of this are given a reprise on the bonus six-song disc included as part of Steve Hackett's new album Out Of The Tunnel's Mouth.

The bonus E.P. features a sampling of Hackett's best songs from the Genesis days performed live with his current band, including the beautiful classical/flamenco inspired playing of "Blood On The Rooftops" and a slightly abbreviated, but nonetheless killer version of perhaps his most famous (and best) guitar solo ever on "Firth On Fifth."

On the latter, Hackett's signature use of sustain is simply breathtaking even now — the notes bending, crying and hanging in mid-air in a way where every second is made to count. It's one of those rare guitar solos whose economy leaves you wanting more, and a lesson more than a few modern rock guitarists could learn from.

While Hackett's catalog as a solo artist has been a bit more spotty — and has included everything from prog-rock to classical — his best albums like Voyage Of The Acolyte and especially the great Spectral Mornings have likewise focused on his economical, but textured style of playing.

With the new Out Of The Tunnel's Mouth, Hackett makes a welcome return to rock, on an album that nonetheless draws from numerous other musical influences which vary from classical to middle-eastern.

Backed mostly by a six-piece band, co-led by keyboardist and musical director Roger King, the scope here is sweeping and symphonic as evidenced from the get-go on lead-off track "Fire On The Moon." The track also wastes no time in getting to one of Hackett's trademark solos, and that wonderful use of sustain. There's nothing quite like hearing a guitar that seems to cry forever dancing around the deep, thick bass lines of Yes bassist Chris Squire either.

On "Nomads," Hackett switches back to the acoustic on a flamenco influenced track where the guitar recalls "Blood On The Rooftops" and the haunting vocal harmonies conjure images from something like a Spanish town in a Sergio Leone spaghetti western. Then halfway through, Hackett switches things up with more of that crying electric guitar sustain played out over a suddenly very busy backdrop of latin-flavored percussion.

From there, fellow Genesis alum Anthony Phillips adds some nice twelve-string guitar flourishes to "Emeralds And Ash." This leads right into the all-out assault of "Tubehead," an instrumental where Hackett makes an abrupt turn into the sort of fusion territory of fellow sustain-master Jeff Beck. On the album's liner notes, Hackett describes this track as "death by Marshall cabinet" and he's not that far off.

On another instrumental, "Ghosts In The Glass," Hackett's fluid guitar cuts in and out of the bottom provided by the fretless bass of Nick Beggs. The album closes with its most overtly middle-eastern sounding track, "Last Train To Istanbul." This one kind of left me scratching my head just a bit — the cinematic sweep here is such that for a minute I wasn't sure if I was stuck in Sarajevo or it was just last call at the belly-dance bar. This song does nothing if not strike a mood.

But for the most part, Hackett's amazing guitar work is the glue which binds Out Of The Tunnel's Mouth, and the sustain that sustains. You can call it the cowbell of the soul, as in more sustain Steve.

You can also call Out Of The Tunnel's Mouth Steve Hackett's best solo album since Spectral Mornings.

This article was first published as Music Review: Steve Hackett - Out Of The Tunnel's Mouth at Blogcritics Magazine.