Monday, March 23, 2009
My First Rocket Launch
When I was three, I remember my brother keeping a scrapbook of John Glenn's first orbits in space. For years afterwards I would crack open the yellowed pages of his black covered composition book into which newspaper clippings were heavily glued (he was only eleven at the time after all).
When I was seven I built a large model replica of the Saturn Five rocket all by myself. The model, when finished, was about three feet high and all of the stages separated and there was even a lunar module that folded up and tucked inside the final stage.
As a family we watched the space flights of Apollo 7, 8, 9, 10 and on that fateful day in July 1969, we sat transfixed in front of our black and white TV at the cottage, transfixed to the ghostly images coming from the moon as Neil Armstrong floated down the LEM's ladder.
As I got older, my fascination with space flight never abated. I read Mitchner's Space and Wolf's The Right Stuff. I joined NASA's junior space program that came with a library of books you could fill with stickers that were regularly sent to you. My favourite toy was astronaut Major Matt Mason. I wanted to be the first man on Mars.
I've been to he Kennedy Space Centre 3 times. 10 or 15 years ago I had the good fortune of meeting Buzz Aldrin (the second man on the moon) in the green room at the Dini Petty Show and ended up with an autographed photo.
The one thing I was missing though was watching a live rocket launch. That finally happened last week.
The family and I drove to Florida for a March break vacation. Because we couldn't get in to our rented condo until Monday, the plan was to drive to Titusville (outside the Kennedy Space Center) to arrive Sunday afternoon, tour the Kennedy Space Center on Monday and then drive in to Orlando to set up shop for the week. I knew that there was supposed to be a shuttle launch a few days earlier but I didn't know that it had been delayed because of a hydrogen leak. At dinner on Saturday night, Mason said that his grandfather told him that there was going to be a launch on Sunday. I was stunned. I grabbed the blackberry and googled Nasa and sure enough there it was...7:43pm on Sunday night - the launch of Discovery. The boys had never seen me so excited and I began to obsess for the next 20 some odd hours.
We checked into the Super 8 in Titusville around 4pm (we paid $55 for a room that was now going for $135) and the boys had a quick swim before we headed out to pick up a pizza and head down to the Indian River to get a prime spot from which to watch the launch.
Though we had to wait over two hours, it was well worth it. I don't know that pictures or video can do it justice but it was great to be able to scratch this off the bucket list. Now Mason says he wants to be the first man on Mars - could happen!
Thursday, March 5, 2009
My first band
I always considered myself musical. I took piano lessons when I was 8 (from the daughter of my mother's best friend who then sent me home with keys drawn on a piece of paper to practise on since we didn't actually own a piano). My mom likes to tell stories about how I banged on pots and pans in lieu of having toys. The first time I actually asked for anything extravagant it was for a banjo after having seen Flats and Scruggs on the Beverly Hillbillies. One day after school, on a whim, I bought a mandolin at a bookstore just because I figured I could figure it out. Now, I didn't say that I was any good at playing any of these but at least I showed some enthusiasm.
In the Spring of 1976 I was in the living room of my parents house listening to my favourite album, Cat Steven's Tea For The Tillerman. My brother played guitar and it just so happened that he had the songbook for the album and it just so happened that the songbook was in the living room. I opened it up and followed along with the songs. When I saw the illustrations of the chords printed above the staffs of music I had an epiphany - "I can do this." With a great deal of that previously mentioned enthusiasm, I leaped to my feet and rushed in to the den to get my brother's Ovation guitar. It is with some embarrassment I tell you that he was in the room with his girlfriend and I saw things that I probably should not have seen. But as a boy on a mission, I ignored the obvious and took the guitar without asking and headed back to the living room. Over the next few hours I was able to learn a couple of songs from Tea For The Tillerman as well as Simon and Garfunkel's "Sounds of Silence." I was so excited about my new found prowess that within a week I had bought a knockoff Les Paul imitation electric guitar made by Mann.
Two weeks later I found myself in a friend's basement auditioning for his band, Phlox. Phlox means flame in Greek. This was the seventies so finding a name with a second meaning was very important. For instance, Rush could mean "hurry" or "unexpected thrill" while Rhinegold could mean...something or other. I don't really know what Rhinegold means it's just that's the ma,e of Larry Gowan's band from the seventies and they used to play the Piccadilly Tube all of the time. But I digress. Back to Phlox...
I wish I could remember the names of the guys in Phlox. But I do remember that Ansley Dunbar was the lead guitarist because Ansley was black and played an upside down white Stratocaster just like Jimi Hendrix. No, Ansley did not play like Hendrix. When I showed up at the audition I could play exactly five open chords (A, G, C, D and E). That got me through the first few songs but then when we got to "Pinball Wizard," I suddenly had to learn how to cope with barre chords. I didn't want to get kicked out of the band for being inept so I studied Ansley's hands intently and suffered cramps trying to keep up.
I went home and spent the next week practising those chords every waking moment and when I came back to the basement seven days later I was ready to move on. Sadly, though, the other guys were ready to move on as well and the band disbanded right there and then before the second rehearsal even began. That's rock and roll, I guess.
In the Spring of 1976 I was in the living room of my parents house listening to my favourite album, Cat Steven's Tea For The Tillerman. My brother played guitar and it just so happened that he had the songbook for the album and it just so happened that the songbook was in the living room. I opened it up and followed along with the songs. When I saw the illustrations of the chords printed above the staffs of music I had an epiphany - "I can do this." With a great deal of that previously mentioned enthusiasm, I leaped to my feet and rushed in to the den to get my brother's Ovation guitar. It is with some embarrassment I tell you that he was in the room with his girlfriend and I saw things that I probably should not have seen. But as a boy on a mission, I ignored the obvious and took the guitar without asking and headed back to the living room. Over the next few hours I was able to learn a couple of songs from Tea For The Tillerman as well as Simon and Garfunkel's "Sounds of Silence." I was so excited about my new found prowess that within a week I had bought a knockoff Les Paul imitation electric guitar made by Mann.
Two weeks later I found myself in a friend's basement auditioning for his band, Phlox. Phlox means flame in Greek. This was the seventies so finding a name with a second meaning was very important. For instance, Rush could mean "hurry" or "unexpected thrill" while Rhinegold could mean...something or other. I don't really know what Rhinegold means it's just that's the ma,e of Larry Gowan's band from the seventies and they used to play the Piccadilly Tube all of the time. But I digress. Back to Phlox...
I wish I could remember the names of the guys in Phlox. But I do remember that Ansley Dunbar was the lead guitarist because Ansley was black and played an upside down white Stratocaster just like Jimi Hendrix. No, Ansley did not play like Hendrix. When I showed up at the audition I could play exactly five open chords (A, G, C, D and E). That got me through the first few songs but then when we got to "Pinball Wizard," I suddenly had to learn how to cope with barre chords. I didn't want to get kicked out of the band for being inept so I studied Ansley's hands intently and suffered cramps trying to keep up.
I went home and spent the next week practising those chords every waking moment and when I came back to the basement seven days later I was ready to move on. Sadly, though, the other guys were ready to move on as well and the band disbanded right there and then before the second rehearsal even began. That's rock and roll, I guess.
Monday, March 2, 2009
My Worst Day Ever - Motorhead
Today I name names. i said that I wouldn't but enough people have heard this story that if I tried to fudge it most would figure it out. So, for those of you who haven't heard it, hear it goes...
In 1986 (was it really that long ago) I was working for Attic Records and we were about to put out the new Motorhead album, Orgasmatron. I was pretty stoked at the time because Motorhead had released one of rock's must-have albums, Ace Of Spades, as well as one of the great live albums of all-time, No Sleep Till Hammersmith. Getting to work with a rock legend like Lemmy was sure to be a career highlight. Oh, how right I was.
The band pulled in to Toronto as the opening act on the Alice Cooper tour. Though their availability was limited, I managed to arrange a pre-taped interview at Q107 and a live interview on MuchMusic's Power Hour. I drove up to Maple Leaf Gardens and parked in front of the band's tour bus. The tour manager was right on the ball and within fifteen minutes Lemmy and his mole were in my front seat of my Mazda 626 while Philty Phil lounged in the back.
As we drove up to the Q107 offices, Lemmy announced that he wanted liquor. I told him I'd get them some once the interview was done. They insisted that I get the Jack Daniels right there and then. I told them that we were running late and I was pretty sure they didn't allow liquor in the studio at Q. Lemmy didn't care. He swore that he wouldn't do the interview unless I got him his drink. I made a deal with them - "Let's go to Q and while you do the interview I'll get the Jack Daniels. as soon as you come out of the studio, it's yours." Either Lemmy or his mole galumphed which I took as "okay."
I returned to the studio only to discover that Lemmy and Phil sat in the studio the entire time I was gone, refusing to say a word until I got back with the bottle. Joey Vendetta was doing the interview and reluctantly gave each of the guys a taste. When we were done at Q we headed back to my car for the drive to the MuchMusic studios.
The whole way done University Avenue, Lemmy and Phil exchanged the bottle taking long swigs. When we got to Much we were told that they couldn't bring bottle in to the studio. I explained to the producer that they wouldn't talk without the drink and since they were scheduled to go out live as co-hosts it could cause a bit of a problem. The solution was pouring the booze in to two nondescript cups from which the guys would chug throughout the show.
If you saw the tape of their interview you'd be able to watch these two rock giants get blitzed over the course of the next hour. The highlight came at the end of the interview. We had a giant Orgasmatron poster that the band was to sign for a contest winner. The plan was to hold up the poster and have the guys encourage viewers to write in for the contest. They held up the poster alright but then they started to eat it. No, seriously. Both Lemmy and Phil started to rip chunks off the poster and stuff them down their mouths. The Power Hour ended, mercifully at 5:00pm and we drove back to Maple Leaf Gardens.
But, dear reader, the story has not yet ended...
After Motorhead's set I was to go back to the dressing room and have them sign the poster. I stood at the door and knocked and knocked and knocked. After 15 minutes, the road manager came out and said he'd take the poster in, get the guys to sign it and come right back out. 15 minutes later and nothing. 30 minutes later and still no poster. No one had come in or left the dressing room. Alice Cooper finished his 90 minute set and still nothing. Alice Cooper had taken off the make-up and still no poster.
Around 11:30pm the door finally opened and the road manager apologized that the poster still hadn't been signed. He invited me in to try and get it signed myself. When I entered the room I saw the poster on the ground covered in foot prints. I picked it up and in defiance I walked up to each bandmember asking them to sign. I went to Lemmy last and he refused. I was pissed off and couldn't leave the room without Lemmy's signature. That would have been like leaving the Beatles dressing room without Lennon's John Hancock. He tried to walk away but I followed him and reminded him that I got him his liquor when he neither allowed it or deserved it. He took my Sharpie without a word and grudgingly scratch his name in to the poster.
A year later I ran in to the road manager at Rock n Roll Heaven. he wasn't with Motorhead anymore. he apologized to me for the band's behaviour that day. It turns out that as they arrived in the bus Lemmy announced to the band that they would be treating the local promo rep (in this case me) like shit, just for the fun of it. Oh joy! Lucky me!
In 1986 (was it really that long ago) I was working for Attic Records and we were about to put out the new Motorhead album, Orgasmatron. I was pretty stoked at the time because Motorhead had released one of rock's must-have albums, Ace Of Spades, as well as one of the great live albums of all-time, No Sleep Till Hammersmith. Getting to work with a rock legend like Lemmy was sure to be a career highlight. Oh, how right I was.
The band pulled in to Toronto as the opening act on the Alice Cooper tour. Though their availability was limited, I managed to arrange a pre-taped interview at Q107 and a live interview on MuchMusic's Power Hour. I drove up to Maple Leaf Gardens and parked in front of the band's tour bus. The tour manager was right on the ball and within fifteen minutes Lemmy and his mole were in my front seat of my Mazda 626 while Philty Phil lounged in the back.
As we drove up to the Q107 offices, Lemmy announced that he wanted liquor. I told him I'd get them some once the interview was done. They insisted that I get the Jack Daniels right there and then. I told them that we were running late and I was pretty sure they didn't allow liquor in the studio at Q. Lemmy didn't care. He swore that he wouldn't do the interview unless I got him his drink. I made a deal with them - "Let's go to Q and while you do the interview I'll get the Jack Daniels. as soon as you come out of the studio, it's yours." Either Lemmy or his mole galumphed which I took as "okay."
I returned to the studio only to discover that Lemmy and Phil sat in the studio the entire time I was gone, refusing to say a word until I got back with the bottle. Joey Vendetta was doing the interview and reluctantly gave each of the guys a taste. When we were done at Q we headed back to my car for the drive to the MuchMusic studios.
The whole way done University Avenue, Lemmy and Phil exchanged the bottle taking long swigs. When we got to Much we were told that they couldn't bring bottle in to the studio. I explained to the producer that they wouldn't talk without the drink and since they were scheduled to go out live as co-hosts it could cause a bit of a problem. The solution was pouring the booze in to two nondescript cups from which the guys would chug throughout the show.
If you saw the tape of their interview you'd be able to watch these two rock giants get blitzed over the course of the next hour. The highlight came at the end of the interview. We had a giant Orgasmatron poster that the band was to sign for a contest winner. The plan was to hold up the poster and have the guys encourage viewers to write in for the contest. They held up the poster alright but then they started to eat it. No, seriously. Both Lemmy and Phil started to rip chunks off the poster and stuff them down their mouths. The Power Hour ended, mercifully at 5:00pm and we drove back to Maple Leaf Gardens.
But, dear reader, the story has not yet ended...
After Motorhead's set I was to go back to the dressing room and have them sign the poster. I stood at the door and knocked and knocked and knocked. After 15 minutes, the road manager came out and said he'd take the poster in, get the guys to sign it and come right back out. 15 minutes later and nothing. 30 minutes later and still no poster. No one had come in or left the dressing room. Alice Cooper finished his 90 minute set and still nothing. Alice Cooper had taken off the make-up and still no poster.
Around 11:30pm the door finally opened and the road manager apologized that the poster still hadn't been signed. He invited me in to try and get it signed myself. When I entered the room I saw the poster on the ground covered in foot prints. I picked it up and in defiance I walked up to each bandmember asking them to sign. I went to Lemmy last and he refused. I was pissed off and couldn't leave the room without Lemmy's signature. That would have been like leaving the Beatles dressing room without Lennon's John Hancock. He tried to walk away but I followed him and reminded him that I got him his liquor when he neither allowed it or deserved it. He took my Sharpie without a word and grudgingly scratch his name in to the poster.
A year later I ran in to the road manager at Rock n Roll Heaven. he wasn't with Motorhead anymore. he apologized to me for the band's behaviour that day. It turns out that as they arrived in the bus Lemmy announced to the band that they would be treating the local promo rep (in this case me) like shit, just for the fun of it. Oh joy! Lucky me!
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
Even Worse (pt. 3) - Mouse or Rat, Steve Jones, the end
When I joined Even Worse, Jack already had a few songs from the previous incarnations of the band and he played them on the piano to show me the chord changes. He played the classics like "Last Night's Blimpie" and "Mouse or Rat." I then turned around and taught Tim how to play them on bass and then showed Thurston the chords on guitar.
I don't remember the exact date that Even Worse went in to the studio to record the aforementioned "Mouse or Rat" but I do remember that we literally went underground that summer day to lay down the tracks and the studio was both claustrophobic and hot. Oh, yeah, I don't think that Thurston was actually there for the recording so I played both guitar parts. Jack was friends with a great graphics artist (Sumishta Braun) who designed the record sleeve.
The last gig I ever played with Even Worse was at Irving Plaza. We played with Adolescent Youth (with members of the Beastie Boys), Heart Attack and Kraut. Steve Jones of the Sex Pistols was doing some recording with Kraut at the time and he planned on joining them on stage that night. Early in the day, while we waited to soundcheck I had a little chat with Steve about his days in the Pistols. I was curious as to how a band that claimed to be poor could afford such grand equipment (top of the line guitars and amps) and clothes (leathers from head to toe). He quite matter-of -factly told me that they stole everything and then went in to some detail about breaking in to Keith Richards' house and coming out with his guitars (at least that's the way I remember the story - though it could have been a lie). Later that night Jones broke a string on his guitar and leaned in to the mic "Can Steve from Even Worse come to the stage, I need to borrow your guitar." I don't think so!
Earlier that night Jack and I got in to an argument about getting paid for the gig. He said that he needed to use the money from the show to pay for the pressings of the "Mouse or Rat" single. I told him that I needed the money to buy food. He gave me an ultimatum. Either I contributed my portion of the gig money or this was the last show I'd play with Even Worse.
My last show with Even Worse was a doozie. I remember Adolescent Youth playing a punk rock version of the "Can Can" for about 15 minutes with all of the young girls from the hardcore scene up on stage with them. I wore army pants tucked into Wellingtons that were turned over at the top. At one inglorious moment, one of the kids in the audience raised his Heineken to salute to me and then turned it upside down and jammed the bottle into my boot. It turns out he hadn't drunk a drop from the bottle. That was the most expensive soaker of my life.
Even Worse went on without me. This was Jack's band after all. I went to see them play a couple of times and it was fun to watch my friends rile up the crowd. Thurston and Kim were an amazing couple and I wished I had stayed friends with them over the years. I think that their success has been incredible. I stayed in touch with Kenny for a few years while he began his career and started his family. Tim and I caught up with one another about 13 years ago when, as an A&R exec at Atlantic Records, he signed Hootie & The Blowfish. And finally, there's Jack Rabid. I hadn't spoken to Jack in 25 years and then last year, on the off chance that the Big Takeover still existed I looked him up online. He was good enough to send me a copy of "Mouse or Rat" (which you can try to find online for $150, ha!) and he took the time to correct some details of my story (that remain clear as fuzz to this day).
I don't remember the exact date that Even Worse went in to the studio to record the aforementioned "Mouse or Rat" but I do remember that we literally went underground that summer day to lay down the tracks and the studio was both claustrophobic and hot. Oh, yeah, I don't think that Thurston was actually there for the recording so I played both guitar parts. Jack was friends with a great graphics artist (Sumishta Braun) who designed the record sleeve.
The last gig I ever played with Even Worse was at Irving Plaza. We played with Adolescent Youth (with members of the Beastie Boys), Heart Attack and Kraut. Steve Jones of the Sex Pistols was doing some recording with Kraut at the time and he planned on joining them on stage that night. Early in the day, while we waited to soundcheck I had a little chat with Steve about his days in the Pistols. I was curious as to how a band that claimed to be poor could afford such grand equipment (top of the line guitars and amps) and clothes (leathers from head to toe). He quite matter-of -factly told me that they stole everything and then went in to some detail about breaking in to Keith Richards' house and coming out with his guitars (at least that's the way I remember the story - though it could have been a lie). Later that night Jones broke a string on his guitar and leaned in to the mic "Can Steve from Even Worse come to the stage, I need to borrow your guitar." I don't think so!
Earlier that night Jack and I got in to an argument about getting paid for the gig. He said that he needed to use the money from the show to pay for the pressings of the "Mouse or Rat" single. I told him that I needed the money to buy food. He gave me an ultimatum. Either I contributed my portion of the gig money or this was the last show I'd play with Even Worse.
My last show with Even Worse was a doozie. I remember Adolescent Youth playing a punk rock version of the "Can Can" for about 15 minutes with all of the young girls from the hardcore scene up on stage with them. I wore army pants tucked into Wellingtons that were turned over at the top. At one inglorious moment, one of the kids in the audience raised his Heineken to salute to me and then turned it upside down and jammed the bottle into my boot. It turns out he hadn't drunk a drop from the bottle. That was the most expensive soaker of my life.
Even Worse went on without me. This was Jack's band after all. I went to see them play a couple of times and it was fun to watch my friends rile up the crowd. Thurston and Kim were an amazing couple and I wished I had stayed friends with them over the years. I think that their success has been incredible. I stayed in touch with Kenny for a few years while he began his career and started his family. Tim and I caught up with one another about 13 years ago when, as an A&R exec at Atlantic Records, he signed Hootie & The Blowfish. And finally, there's Jack Rabid. I hadn't spoken to Jack in 25 years and then last year, on the off chance that the Big Takeover still existed I looked him up online. He was good enough to send me a copy of "Mouse or Rat" (which you can try to find online for $150, ha!) and he took the time to correct some details of my story (that remain clear as fuzz to this day).
Thursday, February 12, 2009
What’s My Muthafuckin Name?…Santigold
I thought that the music intelligencia would enjoy this press release we issued today:
Change the graffiti on the bathroom wall, get your tattoo fixed, get your t-shirt airbrushed and change the name on your year end list- Santogold is now Santigold. She’s not telling you why, that’s just how it is. No unpronounceable symbol, no numbers where they shouldn’t be, no random capitalization, just plain ass Santigold so remember that.
Downtown/Lizard King released Santigold’s self-titled breakthrough CD in April and it instantly became one of 2008’s most acclaimed albums garnering international raves. Critics and radio have championed the record’s standout tracks “L.E.S. Artistes”, “Creator” and her latest single “Shove It”.
http://www.myspace.com/santigold
Change the graffiti on the bathroom wall, get your tattoo fixed, get your t-shirt airbrushed and change the name on your year end list- Santogold is now Santigold. She’s not telling you why, that’s just how it is. No unpronounceable symbol, no numbers where they shouldn’t be, no random capitalization, just plain ass Santigold so remember that.
Downtown/Lizard King released Santigold’s self-titled breakthrough CD in April and it instantly became one of 2008’s most acclaimed albums garnering international raves. Critics and radio have championed the record’s standout tracks “L.E.S. Artistes”, “Creator” and her latest single “Shove It”.
http://www.myspace.com/santigold
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
Chris Brown vs Rhianna
I watched the Grammy Awards for the first time in years a couple of nights ago and I planned on writing a post on all of the reasons I thought they were horrible. Yesterday morning, as I drove in to work I heard that Chris Brown may have gotten in to a fight with his girlfriend Rhianna prior to the show and their planned performance slot was filled in last minute by Justin Timberlake with Al Green. Late in the day yesterday I got a a phone call from a reporter from Macleans asking me to comment on the Chris Brown incident.
The call from Macleans was the second that I had received in as many work days. Someone called on Friday to ask me to contribute to an article suggesting to BNL's Steven Page how to repair his image. I refused that request outright but somehow felt that commenting on Chris Brown was either not my place or totally necessary. After some hemming and hawing I commented.
I start with the fact that I don't really know the facts. I don't read celebrity magazines or gossip columns in newspapers so I don't really find these kinds of stories terribly interesting. But, of course, presuming for a moment that they did get in to a physical fight, what bothers me is how this type of coverage titillates the public and leads to further coverage of downtrodden celebs.
My eldest step-son is a devotee to the show Celebrity Rehab. When we asked him why he watched the show he said because it was educational and shows you the effects of drugs and alcohol. That's a reasonable explanation for watching the first episode but not the rest of the season.
The problems that celebrities have are the same the rest of the world has but they have to live these problems out in public. What people forget is that celebs are people too. Or, maybe they don't forget that. Maybe they like to hold these people up and then revel in the fall from grace. Maybe seeing celeb's mugshots makes the general public feel better about themselves. They laugh, take about them at the water cooler and Google to their hearts content waiting for the next police report in the entertainment section.
The Macleans reporter asked me if I thought that Chris Brown could resuscitate his career after an incident like this. I qualified my answer by saying that, as far as I know, he hasn't yet been charged with anything. Then I told her that I honestly believe that at the end of the day musical artists are judged on the quality of their music not on how they live their lives, good or bad. If Chris Brown makes a great record it will sell and he will be popular. If he makes a bad record no one will care but they'll say Sunday night's incident had a negative impact on his career. If Michael Jackson makes a great album, you can't tell me that it wouldn't sell shit loads.
The reporter asked me for an example to illustrate my point. Though I knew it to be true I couldn't really think past Puff daddy and the gun charges. Maybe that wasn't the best example. And then it hit me. Though it's not music related it is an entertainment story that dominated the front pages and cooler talk for ages. basketball star Kobe Bryant is still the most popular player in the game despite the fact that he cheated on his wife and was accused of assault. But he continues to play the game at the highest levels and people admire him for that.
Celebrities are not looking to be held up as role models but they are. Yes, they have a certain responsibility to make sure that hey don't tarnish their reputations with ridiculous actions. But we all have the same responsibility. We just don't covered in the press.
Read Macleans article here: http://blog.macleans.ca/2009/02/10/how-do-you-spin-this/
The call from Macleans was the second that I had received in as many work days. Someone called on Friday to ask me to contribute to an article suggesting to BNL's Steven Page how to repair his image. I refused that request outright but somehow felt that commenting on Chris Brown was either not my place or totally necessary. After some hemming and hawing I commented.
I start with the fact that I don't really know the facts. I don't read celebrity magazines or gossip columns in newspapers so I don't really find these kinds of stories terribly interesting. But, of course, presuming for a moment that they did get in to a physical fight, what bothers me is how this type of coverage titillates the public and leads to further coverage of downtrodden celebs.
My eldest step-son is a devotee to the show Celebrity Rehab. When we asked him why he watched the show he said because it was educational and shows you the effects of drugs and alcohol. That's a reasonable explanation for watching the first episode but not the rest of the season.
The problems that celebrities have are the same the rest of the world has but they have to live these problems out in public. What people forget is that celebs are people too. Or, maybe they don't forget that. Maybe they like to hold these people up and then revel in the fall from grace. Maybe seeing celeb's mugshots makes the general public feel better about themselves. They laugh, take about them at the water cooler and Google to their hearts content waiting for the next police report in the entertainment section.
The Macleans reporter asked me if I thought that Chris Brown could resuscitate his career after an incident like this. I qualified my answer by saying that, as far as I know, he hasn't yet been charged with anything. Then I told her that I honestly believe that at the end of the day musical artists are judged on the quality of their music not on how they live their lives, good or bad. If Chris Brown makes a great record it will sell and he will be popular. If he makes a bad record no one will care but they'll say Sunday night's incident had a negative impact on his career. If Michael Jackson makes a great album, you can't tell me that it wouldn't sell shit loads.
The reporter asked me for an example to illustrate my point. Though I knew it to be true I couldn't really think past Puff daddy and the gun charges. Maybe that wasn't the best example. And then it hit me. Though it's not music related it is an entertainment story that dominated the front pages and cooler talk for ages. basketball star Kobe Bryant is still the most popular player in the game despite the fact that he cheated on his wife and was accused of assault. But he continues to play the game at the highest levels and people admire him for that.
Celebrities are not looking to be held up as role models but they are. Yes, they have a certain responsibility to make sure that hey don't tarnish their reputations with ridiculous actions. But we all have the same responsibility. We just don't covered in the press.
Read Macleans article here: http://blog.macleans.ca/2009/02/10/how-do-you-spin-this/
Thursday, February 5, 2009
Even Worse (pt. 2) - Rick Rubin, hardcore life and getting it straight
There were only a few places to play in NYC during the hardcore punk era, but Even Worse played most of them. And when we went on "tour" it was to New Jersey. The first gig off of Manhattan that I remember playing was at Maxwell's in Hoboken.
The thing I remember most about that night was that it was the show in which we debuted the song "1984". I have no idea how I came up with the riff for the song but it remains one of the best (and certainly one of the most complete) songs I ever wrote. The lyrics were a take on the book which I had just finished reading (in 1982) for the second time. Lots of Big Brother talk and there was a break down in the middle that Kenny, our singer, could improvise. This was always my favourite part because Kenny would come up with some crazy stuff, usually from whatever the headlines in the Post were that day.
The song was kind of slow and plodding and the "crowd" (maybe a hundred people) started skanking around in a giant circle in the middle of the dance floor. After watching so many shows with mosh pits filled with flailing arms and legs, it was pretty cool to see the chaos become somewhat organized with a song they had never heard before.
Another "memorable" (more on why I have quotes there later) gig was also one of the most infamous. We had a show booked at a giant hall in Garden City, New Jersey. We were the first of three bands on the bill. The headliners were Millions of Dead Cops (MDC) and Hose, Rick Rubin's (yes, that Rick Rubin) band - sort of a kind of Flipper tribute band.
Rick lived in the same NYU dorm as Tim, Kenny and I. All of this stuff was before he started Def Jam with Russell Simmons. We all sort of moved in the same circles at the time (Rick Moreno, the front desk clerk at the dorm went on to direct a number of Beastie Boys videos including "Fight For Your Right To Party" - he plays the landlord in the bathrobe) and Rick asked me to join Hose. Now, it wasn't that I was so loyal to Even Worse but I really thought that Hose sucked and I couldn't see myself playing that kind of music. Rick was cool and totally understood. We stayed on friendly terms for years and would catch up every once and a while at a Warner sales convention or when I'd fly to LA for business.
Back to Garden City. We were running late and our car got stopped for speeding. We should have turned around right there, but we didn't. When we got to the hall, we set up the gear and took the stage to a sparse crowd of about 50. A couple of songs in to our set a girl hopped up and sat on the edge of the stage. Moments later she lit up a cigarette. There was a faction in the punk scene at the time called 'straight-edge" that didn't condone drinking, smoking or drugs. We didn't call ourselves "straight-edge" but we also didn't condone any of the aforementioned vices. We happen to be playing our yet to be released single "Mouse or Rat" and at the end of the song, Kenny went to kick the cigarette out of the girl's mouth. He missed the cigarette and clocked her right in the face.
Though he apologized immediately (by telling her she shouldn't smoke:) the damage was already done. It turns out that she was the Queen of the Jersey City punks and the crowd reaped its revenge by pulling Kenny off stage during the middle section of "1984" and kicking the crap out of him. It should be noted that neither Tim, Jack or myself came to Kenny's rescue (Thurston didn't play this gig with us) but we did play on. Kenny rolled himself back on to the stage and sang the rest of the set sitting on a milk crate behind Jack's drumkit.
Now, you'd think that that was enough but it wasn't. After our set (which we recorded) we were in the parking lot outside during Hole's set when the hall doors burst open and the crowd came running out. Somehow the sprinkler system had gone off soaking everyone inside.
Now about those quotes around the word "memorable". This story is how I remeber it but last year I got in tuoch with Jack Rabid and in an exchange of e-mails he corrected a few details:
"...that other show you mention was at a place called "city gardens" in trenton, whereas the traffic ticket we got was for speeding in connecticut on the way to a show in bridgeport's pogo's or some club in east haven, i can't remember which (we only played the latter once, with vatican commandos, now known as moby's former band if i have that right, and lost generation--or was it reflex from pain? they all started to sound alike apart from c.i.a. who were fantastic).
there's a paragraph about even worse in the book "american hardcore," but it's got about 12 factual errors including many missing members, misspelling the names of the members actually noted, and for some reason also includes my real first name which they got wrong as well! (it's paul; they had me as pete). a new edition is coming out and i sent a slew of corrections. i am not confident they will get it right or much care. but we will see."
The thing I remember most about that night was that it was the show in which we debuted the song "1984". I have no idea how I came up with the riff for the song but it remains one of the best (and certainly one of the most complete) songs I ever wrote. The lyrics were a take on the book which I had just finished reading (in 1982) for the second time. Lots of Big Brother talk and there was a break down in the middle that Kenny, our singer, could improvise. This was always my favourite part because Kenny would come up with some crazy stuff, usually from whatever the headlines in the Post were that day.
The song was kind of slow and plodding and the "crowd" (maybe a hundred people) started skanking around in a giant circle in the middle of the dance floor. After watching so many shows with mosh pits filled with flailing arms and legs, it was pretty cool to see the chaos become somewhat organized with a song they had never heard before.
Another "memorable" (more on why I have quotes there later) gig was also one of the most infamous. We had a show booked at a giant hall in Garden City, New Jersey. We were the first of three bands on the bill. The headliners were Millions of Dead Cops (MDC) and Hose, Rick Rubin's (yes, that Rick Rubin) band - sort of a kind of Flipper tribute band.
Rick lived in the same NYU dorm as Tim, Kenny and I. All of this stuff was before he started Def Jam with Russell Simmons. We all sort of moved in the same circles at the time (Rick Moreno, the front desk clerk at the dorm went on to direct a number of Beastie Boys videos including "Fight For Your Right To Party" - he plays the landlord in the bathrobe) and Rick asked me to join Hose. Now, it wasn't that I was so loyal to Even Worse but I really thought that Hose sucked and I couldn't see myself playing that kind of music. Rick was cool and totally understood. We stayed on friendly terms for years and would catch up every once and a while at a Warner sales convention or when I'd fly to LA for business.
Back to Garden City. We were running late and our car got stopped for speeding. We should have turned around right there, but we didn't. When we got to the hall, we set up the gear and took the stage to a sparse crowd of about 50. A couple of songs in to our set a girl hopped up and sat on the edge of the stage. Moments later she lit up a cigarette. There was a faction in the punk scene at the time called 'straight-edge" that didn't condone drinking, smoking or drugs. We didn't call ourselves "straight-edge" but we also didn't condone any of the aforementioned vices. We happen to be playing our yet to be released single "Mouse or Rat" and at the end of the song, Kenny went to kick the cigarette out of the girl's mouth. He missed the cigarette and clocked her right in the face.
Though he apologized immediately (by telling her she shouldn't smoke:) the damage was already done. It turns out that she was the Queen of the Jersey City punks and the crowd reaped its revenge by pulling Kenny off stage during the middle section of "1984" and kicking the crap out of him. It should be noted that neither Tim, Jack or myself came to Kenny's rescue (Thurston didn't play this gig with us) but we did play on. Kenny rolled himself back on to the stage and sang the rest of the set sitting on a milk crate behind Jack's drumkit.
Now, you'd think that that was enough but it wasn't. After our set (which we recorded) we were in the parking lot outside during Hole's set when the hall doors burst open and the crowd came running out. Somehow the sprinkler system had gone off soaking everyone inside.
Now about those quotes around the word "memorable". This story is how I remeber it but last year I got in tuoch with Jack Rabid and in an exchange of e-mails he corrected a few details:
"...that other show you mention was at a place called "city gardens" in trenton, whereas the traffic ticket we got was for speeding in connecticut on the way to a show in bridgeport's pogo's or some club in east haven, i can't remember which (we only played the latter once, with vatican commandos, now known as moby's former band if i have that right, and lost generation--or was it reflex from pain? they all started to sound alike apart from c.i.a. who were fantastic).
there's a paragraph about even worse in the book "american hardcore," but it's got about 12 factual errors including many missing members, misspelling the names of the members actually noted, and for some reason also includes my real first name which they got wrong as well! (it's paul; they had me as pete). a new edition is coming out and i sent a slew of corrections. i am not confident they will get it right or much care. but we will see."
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