Bob Dylan "In Concert And In Show": The Song And Dance Man Returns

Music Review - Bob Dylan And His Band - October 13, 2006 at Key Arena, Seattle WA

When you've seen Bob Dylan live as many times as I have, you kind of come to expect the unexpected. Based on the ten or so Dylan concerts I've seen since 1974, the man largely runs hot and cold. From my experience at least, you are either going to get the quieter, introspective "detached" Dylan or the somewhat more energetic "song and dance man" model.

As old as I am (50 for those keeping score), I am not nearly old enough to have seen Dylan when he was pissing off the folkie purists at Newport by strapping on an electric guitar with Mike Bloomfield and the like. For those memories, I'll have to settle for my DVD of Scorsese's brilliant No Direction Home.

Nor was I old enough to witness his original groundbreaking shows in the sixties with The Band. My experience with Dylan live actually began when I was a high school senior in 1974. Eighteen years old at the time, I wandered down to the Seattle Center Coliseum on pretty much a lark and ended up accepting a free ticket to his sold out reunion show with the Band from the stoned out hippie who offered it up to me. Imagine my luck.

After witnessing that amazing show, which is captured on Dylan and The Band's live Before The Flood album, I became a fan for life.

Of the many Dylan shows I have witnessed, I've seen him through most of the more interesting phases of his career since that time. I saw the Vegas model Dylan introduced on the tour for Street Legal in 1978 (and later captured for posterity on the Live At Budokan album), where Dylan debuted his "song and dance man" routine in earnest.

I saw him on the Jesus tour where he pretty much pissed off every hippie and leftover sisxties radical still alive by performing a super-charged gospel revival show and refusing to play stuff like "Like A Rolling Stone." About a year later, I saw Dylan when he came back and played a "greatest hits" show that seemed almost like an apology for all of the hell and brimstone of that "Born Again" show--a rare artistic compromise in a career marked by so few of them.

Through it all, I can tell you that what they say about Dylan live is largely true. Not only does the man run either very hot or very cold, but you can pretty much count on him reinventing his songs in a concert setting every time. Usually to the point where it may take a minute to even recognize them--at least until the lyrics start to kick in.

Bob Dylan And His Band "In Concert And In Show" October 13, 2006 at Seattle's Key Arena, was no exception.

Taking the stage to one of the most bizarre self-depreciating introductions I've ever heard--the intro read more like a career bio mentioning everything from his "poet laureate" status to his Jesus years--Dylan and his amazing band played a dazzling near two hour set (long by Dylan's recent live standard). It was a show that was long on radically revamped versions of old hits, and surprisingly short on material from his brilliant new Modern Times release.

On the second night of an arena tour meant to promote that album, only three of it's songs showed up on the setlist in Seattle. The first of these, a poignant and lovely sounding "When The Deal Goes Down" found Dylan in fine voice for a version that remained true to the album. "Workingman's Blues #2," Dylan's most recent lesson on war and economics (and one of Modern Times many standouts), came a few songs later.

Surprisingly, "Thunder On The Mountain," the apocalyptic sounding blast which opens that album didn't come until the encores. It's opening wash of bluesy sounding guitars actually brought a high-five from the fifteen year old sitting behind me who'd been complaining about the lack of new songs all night.

Which begs the obvious question--when was the last time you heard people complain about so many hits and so little new stuff at a show by someone who's been around as long as Dylan? Certainly not at a Stones or McCartney show.

Sandwiched in between the lone three Modern Times tracks was what can only be a charcterized as a fan's dream setlist. And from the opening "Maggies Farm" to the last encore of "All Along The Watchtower," nearly all of the songs were radically reworked to represent Dylan's more recent musical turn towards a darker, bluesier sound. They were also expertly played by a great band that seems to specialize in making these songs swing like the proverbial pendulum do.

Actually, save for Dylan's raspier croak of the past few years, "Watchtower" stayed pretty close to the original, as did "Rolling Stone," and a version of "Highway 61 Revisited" where the band blew the roof off of the place. "Positively 4th Street" and the opening "Maggie's Farm" on the other hand sounded so different it took many (myself included) a few minutes to even recognize them.

As great as Dylan's current band sounds onstage, it was Dylan's voice that was the star of the show here. With it's deeper resonance, and the way Dylan's been using his voice as more of an instrument lately, Dylan dramatically phrased certain words, going from a low croak to a high register often in an instant. It was like hearing these songs--many of them over thirty years old--for the very first time. Although he is most often recognized as being this generation's greatest songwriter, as a master of vocal phrasing Dylan likewise has few equals

This was displayed most dramatically during a wonderful new take on the Blood On The Tracks classic "Tangled Up In Blue" where Dylan's weathered and weary voice breathed new life into that song's famous lyrics about love and heartbreak. Some of the reworkings of classics were also a little cruel. Dylan teased the opening notes of "Every Grain Of Sand" (one of my all-time favorite Dylan songs), during an intro for what eventually became a new reading of "Just Like A Woman." Good as "Just Like A Woman" sounded, I had a hard time masking my disapointment when he failed to deliver on the initial tease.

But Bob Dylan was most definitely in "song and dance man" mode for this show. Dressed in black gamblers hat and suit (his band wore carefully color-coordinated matching duds), he displayed some pretty impressive dance moves (for an old codger) from behind his keyboards, and he smiled more often than I can ever remember seeing the man do onstage. Dylan seemed to be having a great time up there.

Sadly, this was the second Dylan show I've seen in the past couple years where he never strapped on a guitar--something I now suspect we're not going to see again anytime soon. There we're a few nice turns at the harmonica though.

For those who've seen some of the more withdrawn shows Dylan did with people like Merle Haggard on the so-called "Neverending Tour," I highly recommend getting out and seeing the man this time around. Rocking again like the born "song and dance man" he is, this is truly Bob Dylan "In Concert And In Show."

Hopefully, he'll work in a few more songs from Modern Times by the time he reaches your town too.

Bob Dylan And His Band
October 13, 2006
Key Arena - Seattle, Washington
Setlist:
1. Maggie's Farm
2. She Belongs To Me
3. Lonesome Day Blues
4. Positively 4th Street
5. It's Alright, Ma (I'm Only Bleeding)
6. Just Like A Woman
7. Highway 61 Revisited
8. When The Deal Goes Down
9. Tangled Up In Blue
10. A Hard Rain's A-Gonna Fall
11. Watching The River Flow
12. Workingman's Blues #2
13. Summer Days

Encores:
14. Thunder On The Mountain
15. Like A Rolling Stone
16. All Along The Watchtower

Bragging Rights: ABC Did Not Really Quote The World Wide Glen This Week Did They?

It's been quite a week for The World Wide Glen Blog and it is all due to the story you'll read directly beneath this one.

The hits to this site have doubled, and I am happy to report that for once, it's not due to that hot picture of Jamie Lynn Sigler we put up here some months ago.

When Blogcritics published our story When Are We Going To Let The Hippies Back Into The Record Store this past Monday, among those who took notice were the folks who produce the webcast for
ABC News.

As a result, I was interviewed for a piece, anchored by none other than Charles Gibson, on Tower Records closing it's stores. Think I'm kidding? Then check out the resulting video clip of the story by going
here.

So pardon me a little bit for exercising some bragging rights here okay?

As noted below, the article also received the highly coveted Blogcritic Pick Of The Week. And let me tell you, they don't call them Blog-"Critics" for nothin'! So allow me to bask a little okay? And check out the link.

And of course, as always, thank you stopping by our little corner of the Blogosphere.

When Are We Going To Let The Hippies Back Into The Record Store?


The following article was named an "Editors Pick" at http://blogcritics.org for the week ending October 12, 2006

So let me go ahead and say out loud what everybody has known for at least a couple of years now.

The music industry is officially dead.
What blows my mind is not only the way nobody will come right out and acknowledge the obvious, but the way those who do sort of see the writing on the proverbial wall try to rationalize just what the hell happened.

In case you haven't heard Tower Records this weekend became the latest casualty of the music business, and will soon close some ninety stores, costing some three thousand record store clerks their jobs.

Now, you've gotta understand something about Tower Records. For at least a couple of decades now, Tower has represented the very epitome of the ultra-hip record store.

When you think of the type of snotty, hipper than thou record store employees sitting behind a counter with their green hair and multiple piercings snickering as you bring your copy of the new Kenny G album up to the register, nothing comes to mind quicker than Tower. Admit it. You've been there, and so have I (though in my case it was probably something by Genesis rather than by Kenny G).

Pain in the ass that these ultra-hip, underpaid record store jockeys could be, they were essentially a big part of what made the wheels turn for the record industry at large. They were the proverbial oil in the grease. Simply put, they were record guys (and gals). You see, the record business up until very recently was a very unique animal. It was the one job in the universe where you basically didn't have to worry about showing up to work hungover, because the chances were pretty damn good that your co-worker was out checking out the same band as you in some club the night before.

Record stores like Tower--but to a much greater extent the smaller Mom And Pop indies--used to be a place you could go to not only get good recommendations on the latest music, but maybe even a leftover promo poster or bumper sticker. Once you got past the snotty, hipper than thou persona of the underpaid guy behind the counter with the green hair, chances were pretty good you could make a valuable connection with a music expert. Especially if you connected with that person on a common ground of musical interest. I mean these guys didn't work for minimum wage for nothing.

They did it because they loved the music--man.

To a much larger extent, this extends all the way up the ladder up to the guys running the show in their ivory towers at the record companies in New York and L.A. You see, once upon a time the guys who sat in these offices were music fans just like you and me. Bands were signed based on actual talent and potential rather than marketable good looks and the ability to draw a quick nickel based on a good gimmick.



Today, a band like Cheap Trick for example (who were nearly dropped by Epic Records back in the days of a much more music friendly climate) wouldn't make it past their first record if it failed to move 250,000 or so units. Record companies today have become so concerned with the bottom line that long-term careers are no longer allowed to develop. Of course there are exceptions to this--the folks at Capitol for example are no doubt pleased with the way Coldplay turned out even as they wring their collective heads over Radiohead's more "experimental work" of the past couple years.

But by and large, the attention spans of the folks calling the shots at the record labels have become as short as Prince on his worst day. Artists are no longer looked at as long term investments. Which means that yesterday's pretty face like Britney Spears is simply shoved aside to make way for tommorrow's Justin Timberlake. Say what you will about guys like Dylan, the Stones, or Pink Floyd. But nobody could rightfully ever accuse them of being pretty faces.

But what is really killing the music business is all this downloading right? Think again. I heard this very same argument about home taping some twenty years or so ago and it holds as little water now as it did back then. The bottom line is your every day average music fan--who usually can't hear the cool new bands on the radio anyway--will check out a song or two, and if he likes what he hears will probably end up buying the whole damn album.



Which brings us back to that green haired record store geek sitting behind the counter at Tower. Music is a very personal business, and forging a personal relationship with your local record store jockey can make all the difference in the world. Sadly, the apparent demise of Tower is just one more nail in the coffin of that dead horse. But then you could always take your business over to the cellphone kiosk at the Supermall.



Because cellphones are apparently the delivery system of choice for music fans today. At least if you are buying into the bill of goods the record industry wants to sell you. When it comes to choice, I suppose this could even be considered a good thing. Since the blow-dried pop idols the record industry chooses to shove down our collective throats these days might have one or two decent tracks on an album, you can pretty much pick and choose your song choices.

But the question simply has to be asked here. What motivation does that leave an artist with to create work that reaches further than the three minute pop tune or flavor of the minute gangsta rap song?

Somewhere out there is a Bruce Springsteen waiting to create the next Born To Run. God willing, there may even be a future Brian Wilson with a work as artistically expansive as Pet Sounds lying in wait. But consider this...

If there are actually guys like that still out there (and I have little doubt that there are) banging their craft away in some garage, what motivation do they actually have? First of all, chances are they wouldn't make it past their first record assuming they actually got signed to a deal at all unless it moved a zillion or so copies. Second, if they have anything in them with a creative reach beyond that of your average housewife, what good will it do if your potential listener is most likely going to end up hearing it on a speaker smaller than your thumbnail? And finally, what difference does it make when the idea of creating pop music that goes anything beyond the reach of a hooky single has become as obsolete as the fifties?

Oh wait a second. The music industry has gone back to the fifties hasn't it?

And people wonder why records aren't selling anymore.

R.I.P. Tower.

Jeff Beck's Truth And Beck-Ola Reviewed: They Coulda Been Led Zeppelin

Music Review: Jeff Beck Truth and The Jeff Beck Group Beck-Ola Enhanced Editions

In light of the curcuimstances surrounding the making of the first two--now classic--Jeff Beck albums, it's not only amazing just how good they turned out, but that they were even made at all.

Jeff Beck, considered even back then a Guitar God on a par with Hendrix, Page, and Clapton, had just left an eighteen month stint as guitarist for the Yardbirds. One that just happened to coincide with the band's most commercially successful period.



The most notable single from that period, "Shapes of Things," shows up as the lead-off track to Beck's first solo record Truth in a much heavier, rocked-up version highlighted by the throaty vocals of a then unknown young singer named Rod Stewart.

Jeff Beck's original vision of his new group was to make as heavy a noise as humanly possible. But not everyone involved agreed with Beck's idea. Record Producer Mickie Most, who saw dollar signs in Beck's good looks and already established "name", wanted more of a pop direction for the Jeff Beck Group (and there are some hilarious examples of that "direction" included here as bonus tracks). Most also was not fond of "that poof" Rod Stewart.

But there was also the little problem of actual songs. Without a clearcut songwriter in the band, enough material to fill a single disc, let alone the two they eventually made, would prove no small hurdle for Jeff Beck's first recordings as a solo artist.



Amazingly, not only did both records eventually get made and released--they have also both stood the test of time remarkably well. 1968's Truth is in fact today considered something of a classic. The new enhanced version of Truth which is released next Tuesday along with 1969's followup Beck-Ola, sounds just as good now as it did way back then.

Before Led Zeppelin became the biggest band in the known universe, most of the industry and critics buzz was already on Beck (with Stewart on vocals) to be the next big thing in what would later be termed 'heavy metal." Its not hard to see why here. Although I still prefer the Yardbirds original version over the one found on Truth, "Shapes Of Things" starts things off with a nice burst of power as Beck expands the dimensions of the guitar sound and Stewart turns in a vocal performance which quickly establishes his own credentials.

Its actually amazing just how good Rod Stewart sounds here. Young and obviously hungry, Stewart's performances on songs like "You Shook Me" (later covered on Led Zeppelin's debut album) and "Blues Deluxe" display a range of raw emotion that quickly served notice to the rest of the British Rock world just who the new young lion on the block was.

That Stewart pushes his limited range to the max throughout this disc (something Beck himself has complained about) is of no small consequence. The bottom line is that the young blues shouter who belts the songs on Truth out for all their life, bores little resemblance to the man we find pimping his soul to everything from Disco to Broadway today. Stewart's now trademark whiskey rasp sounds rawer and dirtier here than ever.

As with Stewart, Beck's guitar is much more raw and guttural sounding here than the jazz-fusion technician he would evolve into in later years. The sustained notes which open a fine cover of Willie Dixon's "Aint Superstitious" give the song a feel of dark menace right away, that soon gives way to growling wah-wah's that prowl alongside Stewart's own black cat moans. Future Rolling Stones guitarist Ron Wood, relegated to bass duties here, rounds out the rock steady rhythm section with drummer Micky Waller.



Of the few originals included here however, none have stood the test of time like the brilliant instrumental showcase for Beck's guitar prowess, "Beck's Bolero." Recorded with an all-star lineup that includes Keith Moon and what would become half of Led Zeppelin (Jimmy Page on twelve string guitar, and John Paul Jones on bass respectively), "Bolero" is one of rock's all-time instrumental classics. In it's roughly three minutes, "Bolero" goes from classical staccato to a hypnotic, almost Hawaiian like twang, to a full throttle rock assault and then back again. It remains just a gorgeous piece of music.

Moon shows up again banging the tympanis on "Ol Man River" in a way that anyone who has ever heard The Who's rock operas will instantly recognize. Session giant Nicky Hopkins turns in some fine piano work throughout the album.

As for those bonus tracks? There are alternate takes of "Bolero" and "Blues Deluxe", as well as those previously mentioned "poppier" tunes Mickey Most wanted Beck doing full time that were issued as singles. The less said about "Hi Ho Silver Lining" and "Tallyman" the better--though their inclusion here pretty much brings home the point that we can thank Jeff Beck for standing his ground, and winning the argument against Mickie Most way back then.

Not everything on "Truth" is perfectly executed--the canned audience noise on "Blues Deluxe" for example sounds a little corny here. But for an album recorded this quickly, with a lack of original material to boot, the classic status of "Truth" all these years later is a deserved one.



1969's followup record Beck-Ola doesn't work quite as well. By this time, Rod Stewart and Ron Wood were already halfway out the door to form the Faces with Ian McLagan, Ronnie Lane, and the rest of the leftovers of the Small Faces. The band would later end up essentially blowing off a potentially star making appearance at the Woodstock festival. And the lack of a principal songwriter was also still a big problem.

As a result, Beck-Ola in ways sounds like a largely pieced together effort tying raucously played Elvis covers like "All Shook Up" and "Jailhouse Rock", with a few originals like "Plynth (Water Down The Drain)." The good news is the band sounds looser than ever, and especially on the Elvis covers they rock far harder than they do on the bluesier sounding Truth

For all the in-fighting said to have been going on within the band at the time, Beck, Rod, Woody and the rest of the boys sound like they are having a great time in the studio here. Of the few originals included on Beck-Ola's seven tracks, "Plynth" is the clear standout, anchored by a great Jeff Beck guitar riff and some nice piano work from Nicky Hopkins.

Hopkins, who had by this time been recruited as a full time member, actually bangs the hell out of the keys throughout. Beck, for his part displays more of the pyrotechnics that would later help earn him the nickname "guitar mechanic." Perhaps reflecting the looser feel, Ron Wood even gets to shine for a brief, but tasty bass solo on "Spanish Boots."

Bonus Tracks on Beck-Ola include early versions of "Jailhouse Rock" and "All Shook Up," as well as a cover of B.B. King's "Sweet Little Angel". On the King song, mysteriously left off the original album, they pick up the blues explorations right where Truth left off and expand upon them. Although the track might have been a little out of place on Beck-Ola it could stand alongside any of Truth's great blues-rock workouts.

Both of these discs also feature extensive liner notes from U.K. journalist Charles Shaar Murray, and in the case of Beck-Ola, extensive commentary from Jeff Beck himself.

Although today, these two albums can probably be looked back upon as springboards for a group of guys who would later go on to bigger, better things--Beck as a guitar legend, Wood as a Rolling Stone, and Stewart as, well as Rod Stewart--they shouldn't be overlooked in their own right. The original Jeff Beck Group could more than hold a candle up alongside the other british blues rockers of their sixties heyday.

Hell, in another life they could have well turned out to be Led Zeppelin.

Music/Movie Review: The US vs John Lennon

I have to be honest here, and somewhat reluctantly admit I was a little bit disapointed with the much ballyhooed John Lennon documentary film The US vs John Lennon after finally going out and seeing it last week.


Not that it isn't a good film. Because it most certainly is.

I'm not sure how long this movie actually is, but it's got a great pace to it. It tells it's story both succinctly and well in what seems to go by like about ninety minutes.

Which is actually my one relatively minor beef with the film. Given it's rather weighty subject, and in particular the period of his life this film zeroes in on--when Lennon was the subject of some very dubious political hijinx because of his outspoken views--the movie just seems to zip by not unlike the way a VH1 Behind The Music does.



Which I guess shouldn't be too surprising given VH1's name being prominent in the production credits.

But most of the information revealed here in interviews and stock footage, is hardly new to anyone who has followed Lennon (or this story) through the years. It's pretty much a matter of public record nowadays that Lennon was harrassed by the FBI, through every means from surveillance to wiretaps because of his associations with figures of the radical left. People like John Sinclair, Abbie Hoffman, and Jerry Rubin.



It also eventually came to light in the post-Watergate years that Lennon's much publicized Immigration problems (until he finally got his green card) could be directly traced to people close to Richard Nixon and the Republican Party.



So none of this is exactly new. In fact, for those of you really interested in the conspiracy theories this movie only scratches the surface of, I'd reccomend reading Fenton Bresler's bizarre, yet riveting book "Who Killed John Lennon?".

Still, as an insight into a fascinating historical period, and into one of the most truly enigmatic and influential men of his time, The US vs John Lennon is an absolutely fascinating and entertaining ride.

Part of what makes the trip worthwhile is the rare footage from Lennon's family life with Yoko and Sean. There is also footage from the 1971 Concert/Rally to free John Sinclair in Ann Arbor.

The story is further told through interviews with people from both sides--right and left--who were there in the sixties. Former Watergate conspirator G. Gordon Liddy tells a particularly funny story about how he made practical use of a candle carried by one of those no-good peaceniks during a protest march.

That one made me laugh so loud I got a few stares in the theatre.


But what really makes The US vs John Lennon a good, if not quite great, movie is it's soundtrack. And despite the fact that I was able to sneak a quickie review (okay, maybe not-so quickie) of the movie in here, the soundtrack to The US vs John Lennon, now out on CD, is what we are really here to talk about.

Are there better career retrospectives of John Lennon out there? Sure. Look no further than Working Class Hero:The Definitive John Lennon or even Shaved Fish. For the completist, I'm sure there is also one of those pricey boxed sets out there. But as a soundtrack to a film about John Lennon's so-called "political years" from the late sixties to the mid-seventies, this CD wraps things up in a very nice little package, thank you very much.


All of the obvious choices are included here, from "Power To The People," to "Instant Karma," and of course, the anthem "Give Peace A Chance" itself. The Beatles of course are also represented here with "The Ballad Of John & Yoko."

But there are also some choices here from that period which, while far less obvious commercially speaking, really complete the picture of just who John Lennon really was at that time. While "Working Class Hero" and "I Don't Wanna be A Soldier Mama I Don't Wanna Die" leave little room for doubt as to Lennon's political leanings, a song like "God," from his so-called Primal Scream Therapy period reveals so much more about Lennon the man it's almost painful to listen to.

The choice of the song "Scared" here is even more interesting, especially in the context of how it is used in this film. Here the song becomes a backdrop for Lennon discussing his growing paranoia over the US government which was by this time shadowing his every step.
The rarities are of course what the diehard Lennon fan will seek out here, and they are an interesting, if not exactly earth-shattering lot. From the 1971 Sinclair Rally we get Lennon's live performances of "Attica State" and "John Sinclair."



But perhaps most interesting to the hardcore Lennon fan, is the alternate instrumental track for "How Do You Sleep," a song widely believed to be a scathing attack on his former songwriting partner Paul McCartney when originally released. The track, when stripped bare, is both sparse and minimal. There is a haunted sort of quality to the music as revealing in it's own way, as the lyrics about his old Beatles feud would later prove to be.

In the relatively brief history of pop music, there has rarely, if ever, been a figure as simultaneously polarizing and influential, while at the same time being as wildly popular as John Lennon.

Let's look at the competition. Paul McCartney was too busy being the "cute one." Mick Jagger, for whatever lip service he paid to the sixties revolution on "Street Fighting Man," was far more interested in playing a Satanic popstar role that eventually bit him on the ass at Altamont.

And Bob Dylan? Both the press and the heartstruck teens of the sixties found Lennon far more interesting. That is unless you count a lot of girls in berets (and a few guys in turtlenecks), who followed Dylan around at the time.

As soundtracks go, The US vs John Lennon compliments it's celluloid counterpart perfectly and serves as a brief, but very effective snapshot of where Lennon's head was during those volatile years when some viewed him as a national threat.

It's True! It's Damn True! The GlenBlog Is A Year Old! (So, Now What?)

Oh, It's true. As my boy Kurt Angle would say, "it's damn true".

The World Wide Glen will celebrate it's first year online this weekend.

Which beckons the obvious question (after the not quite as obvious "what the fuck?") of "So Now What?"

But in order to address that, and before we actually do, we should probably take a look back at just what has transpired in what I will deem as "Year One" of the life of The World Wide Glen (and to my friends who right about now will be chiming in with the usual accusations of being a pompous or pretentious prick--well, what can I say?)

...At least other than ...

This one's for you!

But never mind that.

For now, let's go back.

Let's go back about one year ago to be exact.

I started the World Wide Glen based largely on two things. First and foremost, was a desire to write again.

I may be pretty much useless on nearly level imaginable, but as anybody who knows me will tell you (at least if they are being honest), I can write.

And my writing, at least from my own perspective, is a gift that God himself gave me. Nothing else explains it. I may not be the worthiest individual to have received this gift, but received it I did. From the time I was reading newspaper ads at three years old to being put in third grade reading at age six there was just something a bit, well "different" about this kid.

But for whatever reasons, I chose to ignore my writing gift and stick it in some faraway little corner for the better part of about ten years. This is outside of my efforts, if you would even call them that--for a couple magazines in the nineties where my soul was simply not in it.

So at right around this time last year, I decided it was time to reawaken the writing beast within.

But this time I decided it was gonna be different.

Nothing--not a pre-determined criteria of what to write, and certainly not the limitations of some self-serving "editor", with his own agenda or (in some cases) a personal ax to grind--was gonna stop me.

Nope. Not this time. This time I would write what I really wanted to write and only what I really wanted to write. The only agenda here would be mine.

In other words, this was gonna fucking rock.

So lets get to the genesis.

First the inspiration.

The guy who really finally got me off me my ass and convinced me I could do this blogging thing was a guy named Dan Charnas. More specifically, it was when I discovered Dan's own blog, that I decided to do one of my own.

Dan's a guy I used to work with at Def American Recordings, who I not only liked a lot, but I also truly respected.

Truth be told, Dan played a major role in me getting my gig there. But beyond that, once I was actually in the door there, Dan was the one guy in a world full of people who we're basically full of shit in the most fucked up music business way you can imagine, who was always straight up and honest with me.

So one night sitting at my computer, more than likely with a few drinks under my belt, I got a wild hair up my ass and decided I wanted to know what Dan was doing these days.

What I discovered was Dan's blog and it was a mixed bag to be sure.

On the negative side, I discovered that Dan had bought into the whole New Age Transcendental Meditation thing that Rick Rubin had sold him on while at Def American hook line and sinker (and Dan, though I promise to respect your spiritual beliefs as surely as I know you'll respect mine--if we ever meet again in this life I gotta talk to you about that).

But on the positive side, I also discovered Dan was still one kick-ass writer (which was always the basis of ny respect in the first place). Especially when it came to hip hop and issues of culture and race in America, Dan's stuff was well written and about nine times out of ten, it was also spot-on.

I always loved that about my boy (and if he ever reads this, I know he wont mind me calling him that) Dan Charnas.

So anyway you can still find Dan writing great stuff at his blog Dantrification. He's not writing quite as much there lately, but it's still a great read, and one which I highly recommend. So Anyway...

What I also found was that his blog was hosted for free by these kind folks at Blogger. As if I needed any further inspiration or arm-twisting, I knew what I had to do right then and there.

Now that I had the domain, there was the matter of the name.

A year ago, I worked for Comcast.

I made decent--not great, but okay--money there. But I hated the oppressive and borderline hostile to employees atmosphere there pretty much from day one. Anyway, I don't work there anymore.

But when I did, there was this really funny company wide email that went out one day about an apartment complex called "The Glen."

Which I of course had to respond to claiming that I, and I alone, was "The Glen." This got some equally funny responses but the one saying I was "The World Wide Glen" stuck.

My Blog had a name. Well at least half a name.

It was also time to liberate a word I'm pretty sure I invented about twenty years ago, with the original intention of using it for a novel. That word is "Thoughtmare."

And I felt it was time to bring the word "Thoughtmare" into the public domain before somebody else stole away my creation for good. Because it's a pretty cool word, wouldn't you agree?

Anyway, I figured it was high time to take my unique name into the public domain before someone else did.

Hence "The World Wide Glen: Welcome To My Thoughtmare".

Because it fits. And because "Thoughtmare" is now a matter of public record as being mine. That business had to be attended to before somebody else got the idea.

So with the name established, I made one simple rule for myself as to the content:

Go Naked.

As in write absolutely blindly and honestly as though you we're writing in a personal diary (albeit one that potentially millions of people have access to).

This has made for some embarassing moments over the past year, as I've laid my soul fairly bare here more than a few times.

Anyway...

In the early days of this blog, I laid some fairly personal thoughts out there.

There are a lot of reminiscenses of my days as "The Shockmaster" of Seattle's hip-hop scene for example. I enjoyed reliving those days here on the blog a lot actually.

If there is actually a such thing as leaving a legacy, that's not necessarily the one I would have chosen (I've always fancied myself more the Dylan type to be honest), but it's apparently the one I've got and the one I'm stuck with.

And I have absolutely no regrets about that. It was a lot of fun reliving that here in the early days of the blog too.

No regrets at all. And much love to my Poi Boy Nasty Nes long as I'm on this subject.

But that's not who I am anymore at age 50. A fifty year old white guy? Who I am kidding? I mean, let's get real right?

So there came a point around last Feburary that I shifted the focus of the World Wide Glen away from the various personal issues of yours truly, and more towards what I've always thought I do best anyway--and thats reviewing records, concerts and writing articles on cultural topics and such.

The reasons for this are twofold.

The most obvious is that if I simply continued crying into my beer before a potential readership of millions, I was going to lose the far smaller actual audience I already had (though 10,000 hits in less than six months aint half bad with no publicity).

More importantly, last February, I once again, for the first time in ten years became a professional writer, doing reviews for Blogcritics, (where I just published my 50th article last week). And not just writing about music either (though I've done a ton of music articles for them), but actually writing about all the shit I love to write about. Wrestling, TV--I may even eventually get to my UFO conspiratorial bullshit--you name it.

The bottom line is there are no limits and no constraints as to what I can write about and Blogcritics is read by about 100,000 people daily.

So you do the math. Needless to say, I've rediscovered my writing muse and have fully embraced it.

So for all my good friends who loved to read the dirty laundry I hung out to dry for all the world to see in the early days of this journal a year ago--and who bitch that all I do is music reviews anymore--well I'm sorry.

And I'll also tell you that theres probably gonna be a lot more of those type of reviews in the days and months ahead.

If there is one thing this blog has done, it's reawakened me to the fact that when it gets right down to it, the one single thing I'm pretty good at is evaluating music. If thats gonna be my legacy (and I'm not at all sure its the one I would have chosen given the choice), then so be it.

I'm going with it. I'm not ignoring it any longer.

There will also gonna be the occasional foray into things like the wrassling, the weird, and the other shit I love--and yes, I may even cry into my beer every now and then.

So having said that, I'm gonna end this with one of those personal entries that my oldest friends claim to miss (for what I often suspect must be masochistic reasons). Regardless, they used to be my specialty here, so here's the last little personal nugget you'll get from me for awhile.

Lick It Up.

The good news is I'm working again.

As I alluded to above, Comcast sucked and I needed to leave that environment, and have no regrets that I did (regardless of the curcuimstances).

Anyway, I absolutely love what I'm doing right now--for anybody who knows me for the true music geek I am--this is a dream job, as what is basically a content editor for a digital music provider.

The only part that sucks--well actually theres two things--is that this is a contract position. So I have no idea of whether or not I'll still have the gig next week or month. The good news is I think they are gonna keep me around awhile.

But there is no guarantee of that. None whatsoever.

The other bad news is that the money pretty much sucks. It's barely--and I mean barely--enough to pay my bills.

I haven't been this broke since I was the twenty something year old "Shockmaster" working at Music Menu--now there's some irony.

The other side of this whole thing though, is that I can honestly say I have not been as personally happy or as relatively "unstressed" at a job in something like twenty years.

So whats the trade off? You tell me.

In the meantime, I thank the roughly 30,000 people (that's in combined hits) who have read this blog over the past year and continue to do so.

Whats next? You tell me. I'm praying for better things next year, and have faith they will come. Either way, you'll hear it here first.

Guaranteed.

20,000

And The Hits Just Keep On Coming!!

Thank You From The World Wide Glen