My First Concert

By David Bash

In early 1972, The Carefree Sugarless Gum Company (remember them??) had a contest where they asked junior high schools within a 50 mile radius of New York City to send in as many of their product’s wrappers as they could, and the school which sent in the most wrappers would receive, as their prize, an appearance by none other than The Grass Roots!  Even though by 1972 their best days were behind them, we the students of Clarkstown Junior High School in New City New York still dug them, and wanted to win real bad, so we fervently sent in as many Carefree Sugarless Gum wrappers as our little hands could get hold of…and wonder of wonders, miracle of miracles, we won!  But stop the presses, because this is not a Grass Roots story!
 
A few months pass, and then the big day comes.  That morning, our Principal gets on the intercom and tells us students “this afternoon you’re all going to the auditorium to see a concert by The Grass Roots-also playing are The Raspberries”.  Everyone in my class looked at each other with puzzlement, as if to say “who??”, because in May of 1972 none of us had heard of The Raspberries; “Go All The Way” wouldn’t be a hit for a few more months, and none of us were hip enough to have heard their debut album, let alone bought it!  So, we’re all waiting with baited breath to see The Grass Roots, not even thinking about this other group who were going to play as well, and our anticipation grew with each passing hour.  Little did we know what we had in store for us that afternoon!
 
Finally the time comes for us to go to the auditorium.  When we get there, we see a white piano and a bunch of amplifiers and guitars on the stage.  For many of us, this was our first look at real live instruments-yeah, they kind of look like what we’d seen on TV-and they sure looked cool!  A few minutes later we were treated to an unexpected pleasure: the appearance of none other than the world famous DJ from WABC radio, Cousin Brucie, who gleefully went into his DJ rap (“how are you all doing?” etc…) and introduced The Raspberries, who were received by our polite applause.  Four guys come onto the stage wearing white suits-matching suits, just like The Beatles!  One of them, “the blond guy” (methinks it was Dave Smalley), shouts “hey, you wanna hear a dirty song?!”  Asking a bunch of pubescent and soon to be pubescent kids that question is like asking Donald Trump if he would like another billion, and of course we all let loose a rowdy “Yeah”!
 
The next three minutes plus were among the most pivotal of my music experience; the “dirty song” was none other than “Go All The Way”!  I had never heard a melody like that, nor had I heard the kind of musical shifts that would ultimately be known to me as “amazing chord changes”.  I remember thinking two other things: 1) that singer has funny hair, and 2) what’s so dirty about this song?  My ignorant 13-year-old self had no idea what it meant to “go all the way”, and even if I had known, it might not have mattered as to my ears it sounded like Eric Carmen was singing “go-ooo away”, which made everything all the more perplexing as the next line was “just hold me close”, leaving me thinking “hey, make up your mind, already: do you want her to go away or do you want her to stay?”.  Silly me!  At any rate, I was floored, mesmerized, and pulverized by the sheer power of that song, and at the end of it I turned to my friend Tom and exclaimed “that was great!”, to which he said “what???”, and I replied “what???” in kind, because the noise had practically deafened us (in retrospect, the noise level was probably no louder than your typical IPO show, but to our concert-virgin ears it seemed like the auditorium had exploded!
 
Unfortunately, it’s at this point of the proceedings that my memory banks begin to fail me and alas, I can’t remember any of the other songs The Raspberries performed, or how many (ironically, one of those songs could have been “I Can Remember”, the magnum opus from the Raspberries’ debut album).  I do remember that, prior to The Grass Roots coming on stage, Cousin Brucie gave away a copy of The Raspberries album to a girl in one of the first rows of the auditorium, and invited her onstage to receive it.  Someone else (a label rep, perhaps?), asked her to scratch the sticker on the front cover and tell everyone what it smelled like.  “It smells like raspberries”, she exclaimed!  Marketing genius that went unrecognized by the naïve among us.
 
Not long afterwards The Grass Roots came on, and although they did a fine job and we enjoyed singing along to their many hits, it was clear to almost everyone in the room who the real star of the show was!  We left the auditorium buzzing, and couldn’t stop talking about how The Raspberries blew away The Grass Roots, even as we waited for our school busses to take us home (as an aside, I remember overhearing part of a conversation, where a guy was telling his friend “no man, Cousin Brucie doesn’t like the songs he plays on WABC-he loves The Stones, man!!”).  I didn’t know it at the time, but that day was a coming of age for me, and although my desire to attend concerts lie dormant for awhile, those of you who know me certainly realize that once it did manifest, it did so with gusto!

by David Bash

10. Time To Get Alone-I don’t waltz, but if I ever learn, this would be the song to which I’d do my first! I love all the counterpoint, which had become a Beach Boys staple not long before and would flourish even further in the next few years. The echoed “Deep And Wide” just kills me, as do the strings after the final “aren’t you glad we got away”. Check out Redwood’s (earlier) version, which is also on You Tube; in case you didn’t know, Redwood was the band which, soon after, became Three Dog Night, and the rest was history!

9. Darlin’-Yes, I know Brian and Mike used to listen to a lot of late night R&B on the radio when they were growing up, but the Wild Honey album, and this song in particular, is a remarkable achievement for a bunch of blue-eyed boys from Hawthorne, California!  Wild Honey is one of my favorite Beach Boys albums, and one which I think is vastly underrated.  One reason of course is that it came on the heels of the aborted Smile, but another is we really don’t know much about its history.  We know that Carl called it “music for Brian to cool out by”, but that’s about it.  Some stuff has been written about the recording sessions in Keith Badham’s book, but wouldn’t you have LOVED to have been a fly on the wall in Brian’s house, when the guys talked about doing “an R&B album”, which was such a departure from the direction in which they’d gone, and in which they’d be heading?  I’d love to know the motivation for each of the songs on Wild Honey, and would have loved to have been at the recording sessions.  In fact, when I fantasize about being part of The Beach Boys history (and face it, BB die-hards, we all do this), being around The Wild Honey sessions is what is most often conjured in my mind.

Another fantasy: in a parallel universe, both “Darlin” and “Time To Get Alone”, both of which were originally offered to Redwood, become huge hits for them, and the band never becomes Three Dog Night!

8. She Knows Me Too Well-Endless Summer was one of the first albums I ever got, back in 1975 (on cassette, yet!).  It really opened my eyes to The Beach Boys, and I fell in love with it immediately.  Not long after that, I found one of those Pickwick budget Beach Boys albums (I have completely forgotten which one), and it had “She Knows Me Too Well” on it.  I was absolutely floored, both by the lyrics (lyrics don’t often permeate my conscious mind) and the amazing melodies/chord changes.  “She Knows Me Too Well” was one of the first songs to teach me that the “hits” weren’t everything a band had to offer!

7. God Only Knows-What can I say about this amazing song that hasn’t already been said?  Not much, except this associated memory: in July of 1965 my grandfather passed.  I was only 6 years old, and it was my first experience with death, both the actual event and the concept itself.  It took me awhile to soak all of that in, and a little more than a year later, I was riding back home from New York with my parents-I was still little enough to lie down in the back of the car.  “God Only Knows” comes on the radio, and when the line “as long as there are stars above you” came on, I looked up out the window, saw stars above me, and felt my grandfather looking down at me, which was really comforting.

A few years later I heard The Vogues quite nice version of “God Only Knows”.  I had completely forgotten my experience with The Beach Boys tune of a few years back, and until I got Pet Sounds I thought The Vogues did the original version (!), but once I heard The Beach Boys recording the memories of the experience in my parents car came flooding back.

“God Only Knows” only reached #39 on the Billboard charts, but would have certainly been a much huger hit had several radio stations not been reluctant to play it due to the word “god” being in the title.

6. All I Wanna Do-Mike Love’s crowning achievement, hands down.  I love the gauzy feel of this song, and as strange as this may sound, in some ways it’s a foreshadowing of that 4AD sound that was all the rage in the UK during the ’80s and early ’90s.  I can definitely see in my imagination’s eye Cocteau Twins doing a version of this song, changing the key and making the lyrics indecipherable!

The counterpoint, and all the other STUFF going on during this song is spine-tingling and chilling!  Does anyone know what Carl is singing in the background during the parts after the “My Love Is Burning Brightly, My Moon and Stars Shine Nightly”?  I’ve never been able to get that, even on a good stereo with a fine pair ‘o headphones!

5. California Dreaming-A last-minute change to my list as I had glossed over this one.  I know I’m going to get railed for this by many die-hard Beach Boys fans, but I think they did a stupendous job on it.  Their harmonies are sparkling, and McGuinn’s guitar in the bridge is breathtaking!  I’m getting chills listening to it now!

BTW, for those of you who know the “original” BB cover of this, which appeared on that Radio Shack cassette in 1983…I love that version, too, but this is better!

4. The Trader-How many of you, like me, were utterly startled when you first put on side two of Holland and the first thing you heard was Justyn Wilson saying “hi”??

Carl’s vocal starts out a bit flat, but quickly shapes into form.  I love the spiritual sounding backing vocals, and the song, as a whole, puts me in a simliar mood to that which many of R.E.M.’s early songs eventually did: an ineffable feeling where I escape into an alternate, but parallel world.  The second section of the song is particularly moving to me, as Carl’s gentle vocals make me feel as if I’m floating on a cloud in a semi out of body experience.  Sublime.

3. All This Is That.  A forgotten gem, mainly because the album its on has been tossed off by many Beach Boys fans as not being very essential, a phenomenon not helped by Warners, in its infinite “wisdom”, pairing Carl and The Passions with Pet Sounds upon its original release.  Perhaps the Beach Boys most spiritual song, I love its bouncy lilt throughout, and Carl’s almost otherworldly chant in the refrain gives me the strongest of chills.

2. Surf’s Up. I’ll never forget the clips I’ve seen of Leonard Bernstein’s CBS special of 1966, where he dismisses 95% of rock ‘n roll as being disposable, but then proclaims, “ahh, but that 5%!”, and hails the “young” Brian Wilson’s “Surf’s Up” as genius.  Of course, a huge number of Beach Boys fans agree with him, and while I do love and admire the version which ended up on Smile, it’s the one which appeared on the album of the same name which will always emerge triumphant for me.  Mike Love’s disparaging opinion of Van Dyke Parks’ lyrics notwithstanding, the lyrics of “Surf’s Up” really “sound” good, conjuring up perhaps nebulous images, but images of beauty and hope, nonetheless.  Carl’s lead vocals are also much better than Brian’s were on the original.

1. Til I Die.  This one codifies everything about The Beach Boys for me.  The amazing, angelic harmonies that burst immediately into my head, the percussive background that bounces all around my brain, the lyrical images that permeate my every pore, and the howling of the “wind” that almost frightens me, but in a comforting kind of way…and the refrain!  What more can be said, really?

One of my Top 10 songs of all-time, by anybody.

In early 1983 the first bootleg of The Beach Boys Landlocked album was “released”.  I had been reading about this album for years, the one recorded after Sunflower, that Warner Brothers had rejected.  I was so excited to take it home and play it, but I wasn’t prepared for its version of “’Til I Die’, which was the breaking down of my favorite Beach Boys song into its individual elements.  The first time I heard it I was impressed, but the second time I heard it (with headphones), I was over the moon.  This version really showcases the fragile beauty of the tune, and with headphones, I had the ultimate Gestalt experience.  When that lone keyboard came in, the part that is under “these things I’ll be until I die” in the finished version, tears came streaming down my cheek; I had been under a lot of stress at the time, and this was truly the ultimate catharsis for me.

I’m too choked up to type anything else.

Ok, I’m back. 

One last comment about my Top 10 Beach Boys songs: I’m sure a lot of people will take issue with the fact that I favored the Beach Boys’ early ’70s output at the expense of Brian’s more fertile mid-60s period. To that I say: while I love those ’60s songs to pieces, I am much more enamored of early ’70s production values, and those ingenious arrangements the guys employed! Those arrangements are truly astonishing; the counterpoint, the flourishes which appear seemingly out of nowhere, the changes, the unique structures, again all adding up to the ultimate Gestalt experience for me!

This, of course, is all post hoc analysis, and to that I add the following: several bands have attempted to emulate ’60s Beach Boys stylings, certainly because that’s their favorite period, but there’s also this-while many Beach Boys fans, several musicians among them, acknowledge that they love albums like Sunflower, Surf’s Up, and Holland, I truly believe that very few of them have emulated that style in their own music, because, well, it’s impossible. It’s almost as if those songs have come with a built in Copyguard; they just cannot be emulated, and that, to me, is the strongest testament to their greatness.

Three Reviled Men Who Need To Have Their Due

By David Bash

As most passionate Beach Boys fans would agree, Murry Wilson, Mike Love, and Eugene Landy have been villified, castigated, even reviled for having done so many heinous things over the years, several in particular which have adversely affected Brian Wilson.  I’m not here to take issue with any of that, other than to say that while these attacks are not errors of commission, they are definitely errors of omission, because each of these men, and I’m not exaggerating one bit, have played a vital role in making both Brian Wilson and The Beach Boys what they are today.

Let’s begin at the beginning, with Mr. Wilson: Murry, that is.  There can be no dispute that he was an abusive dad, both verbally and physically, particularly to Brian (as it is with most abusive fathers, directing it in most part towards the oldest boy), who he constantly bombarded with both blatant and thinly veiled put-downs…and of course, if it’s really true that he hit his eldest son with a baseball bat when Brian was two, effecting the deafness in his right ear, then he should have been put in jail (no doubt that if Social Services, as we know it today, was around back then, his ass would have been hauled off either to court or jail several times), and the verbal abuse greatly contributed not only to Brian’s nervous breakdown, but to many subsequent years of mental and physical degeneration.  Having said all that, had Murry not constantly been on Brian with exhorts to “work harder and do better”, there’s a good chance that Brian never would have created the output he has.  For better or worse, Murry kicked Brian’s ass (Brian actually thanked his Dad for “kicking my ass” in an interview he did with me), mainly emotionally, which caused Brian to seek Murry’s approval by working harder and harder to produce work of which his father would be proud.  The fact that, in Brian’s mind, he never reached that goal, and that this took an awful toll on his mental well being, doesn’t obscure the other fact that without Murry, Brian likely would have taken it a lot easier, possibly even giving up before The Beach Boys achieved even a modicum of fame, thereby depriving the world of years of genius.  Would Brian Wilson, with a dad who treated him with kindness and love, been a happier, more well-adjusted human being?  Almost certainly.  But would he have been a more prodigious songwriter and producer?  Almost certainly not.  For that, Murry must be given some due.

Next is Mike Love, who probably has the most ironic last name in the history of popular music.  To love Brian Wilson means you hate Mike Love, and no doubt there’s good reason for it: Mike was, and still is, a smug, smarmy ass who used to play constant mind games with Brian, put down the most brilliant work of Brian’s career, and tried to claim credit for many things for which it wasn’t deserved (to be fair, there were times where he had been denied credit that should have been forthcoming).  However, while all of the above is true, what’s also undeniable is that without Mike Love, The Beach Boys would never have been the live entity they have become, would likely have stopped touring after Brian retreated to the studio, and would never have created the enduring legacy that now exists for millions of people.  Why?  Because Mike Love was the only member of The Beach Boys who was an effective front man.  Brian had way too much stagefright, Carl and Al were too quiet (although eventually Carl exerted a bit of authority on stage), and while Dennis was an obvious sex symbol who was never short of female admirers, he was mostly in back on the drums, and really didn’t possess the sponteneity of articulation necessary to be the front man.  Mike Love craved being the center of attention, would strut around the stage, exhorting the crowd to get excited, and was, at least in that sphere, a reasonably articulate guy.  He was the glue that held the band together as a live entity, and both driven and narcissistic enough to hold tightly to those reigns to this day.  Love is also the one who advised Capitol Records on the track listing to Endless Summer, and album that, without its existence, may have left The Beach Boys dead and buried.  Those 400,000 people who came to see The Beach Boys play at The Washington Monument have Mike Love to thank…and so do we, for keeping the summer alive.

Finally, we get to Eugene Landy, a man who took power and abused it to the nth degree, which effected the eventual loss of his licence to practice psychiatry.  Landy’s therapy sessions put Brian through sheer hell, and once Landy brought Brian to a point where he could function with a modicum of ability, Landy assumed full control of his life, both outside and inside of the studio, a huge breach of ethics.  Many people in the Beach Boys circle felt Landy’s control was akin to a prison camp, and Brian himself, in interviews that were able to escape the verbal manipulation of Landy, revealed that he indeed felt imprisoned.  All this is well and good, and Landy deserved to lose his license and more, but there is one thing which cannot be denied: had Eugene Landy not come to Brian’s rescue in 1983, Brian would today likely be incapacitated at best, and six feet underground at worst.  At the time Landy came back into Brian’s life, Brian was in absolutely awful shape, his weight more than 300 pounds and climbing, snorting prodigious amounts of cocaine, effectively placing one foot into the grave.  Eugene Landy saved his life-call his methods extreme, highly unethical, reprehensible if you will-he saved Brian’s life.  Not only that, but he got Brian to *work* again, to write and record a very, very good record in 1988, and planted the seeds for Brian’s eventual work, including the newly recorded Smile album.  Of course there are many other people in Brian’s world who played a larger part in shaping the past 15 years of Brian’s life and career, but what I’m saying is, had it not been for Eugene Landy, there wouldn’t have been a Brian on this earth to shape, and that carries as much or more weight than anything else.

In sum, I’m not suggesting that you stop feeling the way you do about Murry Wilson, Mike Love, and Eugene Landy; I’m saying that there’s the other side of the story which simply cannot be denied, and must be given its due process.

Who Will Be The Next Beatles?

By Aaron Kupferberg

www.powerpopaholic.com

Trick question. With the onset of years, the more we look back, with more certainty we can say that no one will ever approach what the Fab Four have done. You can argue that Michael Jackson had more #1 debuts, or Madonna had more top ten singles, but none will make the same musical, cultural, and social impact. It goes well beyond Beatlemania to the way an rock group is conceived. Prior to the Beatles, bands were put together by powerful record labels, and ruled like serfs in a musical fiefdom.The template for gathering your buddies, getting signed by a label, get rich and famous and control your artistic vision started with them.

The first band labeled “the next Beatles” was Badfinger, and their tragic story served as a warning for other bands that the “template” was never a easy roadmap to success. Since then, hundreds of successful bands from Oasis to the Jonas Brothers have had the music press make the same lazy comparisons. But its best we don’t even ask the question unless that group can support an entire city long after its demise.

Spending a bit time at Beatlefest in New Jersey this year, I listened with rapt attention to author David Bedford who’s book “LIddypool” goes into all the nooks and crannies of the band’s  birthplace and the early lives of Fab Four. Prior to 1980 the important places mentioned in the book were slowly disappearing, and the city of Liverpool didn’t really accept the significance of its place in history. There was no musical tourism at the time and like most 60′s music, it was considered ephemeral and only trumpeted by a few old codgers reliving the past. After the death of John Lennon on December 8, 1980, people finally woke up to the fact that The Beatles were more than a 60′s phenomenon. And Liverpool now boasts massive revenues from “Beatles Tourism.” We may see a public park at Neverland Ranch someday, but I doubt it will ever approach the level of Graceland’s tourist expectations.

Bottom line here is that the next successful band will not use a template that’s 50 years old, but a combination of “outside-the-box” methods that gets great music to the ears of people who will appreciate and crave it. The musical landscape is no longer a fiefdom, but an ocean where only the most dedicated and self-reliant artists will float to the top. International Pop Overthrow is just one of the ways artists and music fans connect, it’s a small enough venue to build a rapport with those of likeminded musical tastes, and remember… The Cavern isn’t a bad place to start a phenomenon!

Reprinted from the IPO 2011 UK Programme

A Very Good Thing: An Appreciation of Material Issue

By John M Borack

Power pop was in sort of an odd place in the early ’90s.  Most of the bands that are now considered pioneers of the genre were long gone, and many of the titans of the second wave (20/20, Plimsouls, stc.) were dormant.  It would be a few years before Jordan Oakes’ Yellow Pills fanzine and L.A.’s Poptopia festival would bring melody-based guitar-pop back to a small-yet-rabid following in a (relatively) big way.  Sure, there were pop acts littering the musical landscape here and there, but where was the act that could be the next big thing?  Where was the band that could sit up and make folks take notice?  Where was the future of power pop?

Material Issue came along and provided the answers for many of us.

Although the fledgling band had a few indie releases in the late ’80s, they first caught my attention after they signed to Mercury Records and released the iconic International Pop Overthrow disc in 1991.  One listen was all it took for me to realize that this was the band that I – and many others – had been waiting for.  Not only were Jim Ellison’s songs across-the-board killer, but the trio put them across with spirit and style: Ellison was a somewhat manic and engaging frontman, and Mike Zelenko and Ted Ansani formed a creative and powerful rhythm section.  (Proof of the band’s cool pop cred was provided by the use of Jeff Murphy from Shoes as co-producer, and the fact that four of the tunes featured girls’ first names in their titles.  How pop is THAT?)

From the Who-like blast of the chorus of “Valerie Loves Me” to the sweetly hopeful “Very First Lie,” from undeniable power pop classics such as “Renee Remains the Same” and “Diane” to the heart-tugging “This Letter,” IPO was damned close to a greatest hits record right out of the chute – except that Material Issue had still more greatness left in reserve for their follow-ups.  These guys were the real deal.

Live, as on record, the band could alternate between jingle-jangle sweetness and tear-your face-off rock and roll in the blink of an eye.  I experienced this firsthand the one and only time I saw Material Issue in concert, at a small club in Long Beach, CA in 1990, when they opened for Shoes.  Ellison, Ansani and Zelenko tore through much of the yet-to-be-released International Pop Overthrow record, leaving me and the rest of the pop-loving crowd breathless and somewhat slack-jawed.  That night, the band connected with me big time and made me a fan for life.

Destination Universe and Freak City Soundtrack were worthy successors to MI’s stellar debut and upped the ante both performance-wise and sonically. (The most excellent, Mike Chapman-produced Freak City is one of the most “live” sounding power pop records ever recorded.)  Ellison’s songs continued alternating between kicking your ass and tugging on your heartstrings: for every in-your-face rocker such as the nervy ”What Girls Want” (which recalled Tommy Roe’s “Dizzy”) or the positively scorching “Help Me Land,” Material Issue evened the score with wonderfully evocative, touching numbers such as the absolutely gorgeous “Next Big Thing,” a sadly sweet tale of a love not quite found.  Jim Ellison seemed to be writing with his heart firmly planted on his sleeve in a manner that his audience could relate to, which is one of the things that helped make him so great.

Of course, the Material Issue story didn’t have the storybook ending we were all hoping for; despite some alternative radio airplay and a shot at the brass ring, they failed to sell enough records to satisfy the label and split from Mercury after their third album.  Jim Ellison left us far too soon in 1996, which was not only a great loss for the music community and his fans, but also for the great number of musicians who had come to know and love him as a close friend.

A posthumous MI release, Telecommando Americano, contained more than a few gems: the sneering-yet-humorous rocker “You Were Beautiful” (“…until things got ugly,” of course) and the tender ballad “Carousel” showcased the band’s yin and yang to great effect.  Fifteen years after Jim Ellison’s death, it’s still impossible for me to listen to “Carousel” or “Next Big Thing” without a tear or two coming to my eye; conversely, it’s difficult to stay in my seat and not feel the urge to jump around like a madman whenever I spin “Goin’ Through Your Purse” or “A Very Good Thing.”

Although Material Issue never quite reached that coveted “next big thing” status, they produced a body of work that still sounds vibrant today and that no doubt influenced loads of other bands (it’s not that great of a leap from Material Issue’s sound to some of the more commercial records by Green Day, for example).  In addition, they helped re-energize the floundering, early ’90s power pop scene by kicking it squarely where it hurts.

So while we still mourn the loss of a true talent and a true friend in Jim Ellison, we should also rejoice at the recorded legacy that he, Mike and Ted have left behind.  Thanks, guys – to me, you will always be the next big thing.

Reprinted from the IPO 2011 Midwest Program