PGH Vinyl CON

I want to thank Jim @ Phantom for tipping me off to the fact that there was something of a kegger going on at this show. Not only was it a great record show, there was, in fact, complimentary Iron City beer (among other Pittsburgh Brewing selections.) It's amazing how much a cold beer can effect ones vinyl LP consumption.

At this show I was able to snag two grails, Dio "Intermission" and Brian May's Star Fleet Project, so you can imaging how pumped I was at that point. After a beer and two favorite movie soundtracks ("Raiders" and "The Black Hole") I am having the best time at a con that I've had in a while. The $3 cover was a deal.


 
When I was fourteen years old I ate this garbage up

 The Film Makers has a great vibe in general, but it surprised me by being a such a suitable venue. I've always enjoyed the small con in the unorthodox space, where the relaxed attitude of the knowledgeable crowd is the only thing keeping what is otherwise a major fire hazard from erupting into the nightly news headlines. At PGH Vinyl CON everywhere you turned there was a box of records. In every room and outlining the hallways, it was records and audiophiles. I'm talking congestive foot traffic situations, almost surreal, like the fan conventions that sometimes occur in my dreams.


It's great to know Brian May knew exactly what was going on inside my head back in 1983.

Great VHS Box Art pt.3 "Another State of Mind"

So, right about when I decided to feature VHS covers here on this blog some other guy comes out with a book doing the same thing, and it gets mixed reviews, and I get discouraged 'cuz I thought I had an original idea... then came the Intellivision project and summer. Anyhow, I knew I'd get back into it again when I found a good one, and Dude's book got dissed for not including so many great covers like this one, so as you can see, I just had post pics from the VHS box cover for the great punk rock doucmentary film "Another State of Mind"



That's an impossibly young Mike Ness sitting on the bumper of the same beat up school bus featured in the film, and a logo that screams Ralph Steadman. The whole thing could be designed by the guy, who knows? This is going back to 1983, when it would be possible for Steadman to still be working more commercially. Whoever it was, this image represents the classic hardcore punk graphic style, with stark black and white contrasts offset by (in this case, two) swatches of muted, primal color. The effect is an intensity level that is through the roof, even though the subject is in repose. It's so simple and effective, and it works every time. I can't be a dick and not post the back cover for you.



If you're an aging punk rock fan like myself, the film is like a time machine back to the early eighties. It's also a compelling story featuring some great performances and interviews, a ton of optimism, and a sadly unique philosophy on life. This hasn't resurfaced on DVD to my knowledge, so buy whatever format you can find it on.

R.I.P Ronnie James Dio 1942-2010

Ronnie James Dio, an originator of the genre of music known as "Heavy Metal", and one the greatest rock vocalists of all time has died at the ripe old age of sixty eight. I finally got to see RJD a few years back, and this new(to me)info regarding his age really comes as a shock. The guy was still belting it out as recently as a year ago touring with the Sabbath spin-off Heaven and Hell, still "reaching the high notes." Now Ronnie is gone.

As a prepubescent in the early eighties, the imagery of the band Dio could not possibly have been more alluring, but listening to the bombastic guitars and Ronnie's incredible vocal delivery for the first time was an experience that cannot be duplicated. Usually straight forward enough songs about teenage alienation got dressed up as tales of wizards and dragons, mysterious strangers, or run-ins with spooks, weirdness, and evil doers in general. In fact, no one sang the word "Evil" better than Ronnie and he knew it, and so he sang it over and over, and over. Ronnie kept the high camp value going into his elaborate stage presentation, and is famous for using the "Devil Horn Salute" most prominently (actually his Grandmother's old trick for reversing hexes- Thanks Ronnie!)As a young man coming of age in the early part of the Reagan years, no one individual could be more rightly accused of creating the socially maladroit currently writing this blog than Ronnie James Dio.

Naturally, I grew out of Dio by my late teens, as the coolness Dio pervaded could only truly be understood by pimply faced virgins. Dio would would fall out of favor like all the rest of the hair bands, and eventually become something as a joke for adhering to strict Metal tradition. I was amazed to learn that Dio, like all the great metal bands, had been recording through the 90's and even into this decade, but I guess it shouldn't come as a surprise. By the time he appeared in Tenacious D's Pick of Destiny, there was no doubt that Ronnie was in on the joke, and when I finally got to see him play live and hear how good he still was it become clear that he probably had the most to laugh about. It was like he couldn't age and for a minute his golden pipes allowed me to feel that youthful optimism that I didn't know I had back then or even today. His abilities were such that I had to renounce my cynicism and embrace the goofy elf one more time, and I was looking forward to seeing another performance soon.

It wasn't meant to be, so I'll take what memories I have, crank up some "Holy Diver" and make a Devil Horn Salute in honor of the man on the silver mountain.

This is what it's like to grow old, just watching your heroes die.

R.I.P. Michael Jackson

Wow.

One of my beefs with the internet age is the lack of a universal cultural touchstone. People today exist on virtual islands in a way that wasn't possible thirty (!) years ago. So, I've decided that a cultural phenomenon is a generally good thing, and that's what my generation witnessed with Michael Jackson. For your average thirty something, the death of Michael Jackson really hits home. He's our John Lennon, or Elvis, the famous guy that dies and takes a part of your childhood with him.

I was just getting into holding hands when Michael Jackson exploded with "Thriller," and, like billions of other people, I learned to Moonwalk. "Billie Jean" was the song to grab your girl for an intense, amateur hour style couples dance. I had clothing with too many zippers, watched too much MTV, and I understood that Michael's lone glove made him appear "enigmatic." Jackson's music still gets played in clubs. Pop music and the way we think about it changed because of this guy, no matter how "out there" he became.

I have to admit it, I secretly longed for the day when Michael would renounce his strange activities and record the best album any of us will ever hear in our lifetimes. Alas, it was not meant to be. It is small consolation that we are now permitted to openly appreciate and show our affection for the man who entertained two generations of the entire world.


August 29, 1958 – June 25, 2009

Dr. Dog "America's Next Great band," according to America's Worst Rock Magazine

Dr.Dog continues to impress me, while Relix continues to sour me on the East Coast music scene in general. What was once an essential music magazine has left it's entire purpose to be rediscovered down the line by the tired, yet ambitious music journalists that, as far as I can tell, have yet to emerge to report on the great West Coast psyche rock scene of yesterday and today. Until then, we get The Flaming Lips, or String Cheese Incident gracing the cover of this bastardized, in name only, once great publication. Phish? Not again, please! Ben Harper? Are you serious? Is it still 1992? All of this nonsense, this serious lack of taste, arrived with the term "Jam Band."

Relix used to be innovative in so many ways. They relied on fan participation for starters, utilizing found artwork, photos, and reviews, all of which were able to avoid looking like more corporate shit and actually convey feeling to someone willing to take a minute and absorb the publication he or she was handling. Recycled papers and Soy inks were another amazing feature in terms of being true to the righteous cause, regardless of how lackluster a B/W magazine might seem to the cheesy masses. Then, a few years after Jerry died and appeared to take the scene with him, the ownership sold the publication to some East Coast wankers who proceeded to devote it's attention to crappy East Coast "Jam Bands" such as Phish, Blues Traveler, and the best of the second-rate bunch, Widespread Panic. No more David Nelson, Hot Tuna, or legitimate extended GD family. No more cool west coast band that isn't getting the exposure anywhere else. No more reports on whatever crazy festival is happening in whatever crazy West Coast truck stop town in the north. Lot's of full color, full page adds bought by fully bonded and insured corporate NYC promoters, however, and I'll bet MOE made the cover more than a few times, probably on the issue that should have been devoted to Zero (RIP)

Seeing as how the scene has continued to move away from the goals, ideas, and style of it's West Coast originators, I guess I can't blame the Relix people for selling out and disappearing. I mean, once the marketing term "Jam Band" took hold only a fool couldn't see the writing on the wall. Still, it sure would be nice to know whats going on back out west. I guess it's somewhere on the internet. And while I'm happy to see Dr. Dog getting a front cover on a national publication, I have to wonder "what type of assholes are going to overrun their shows from now on?" and I'm not talking about their existing, condescending, elitist, dad's money/ twenty something hipster who knows a guy in Philly crowd, either. Those people will come around someday. I mean the truly behind the times, waiting for it to be okay to like a band, alcoholic spectator crowd that can't deem a live show to be worthwhile until it costs fifty bucks and requires a day off from work to able to witness. Do I, a guy in Pittsburgh where Dr. Dog has had NO draw, need to go buy my tickets in advance?

I started reading the article, a cliche ode to reluctant stardom, until I had to throw it down in disgust over the commentary on Converse All-Stars, as if they where at some point not cool. I have news for all you good people, rockers and otherwise; Converse All-Stars have been and will remain one of the all-time great pair of kicks, no matter how over priced they are. The old Relix would not tell you how to dress. And am I to believe that Relix is providing me with a news flash by reminding me that they are the first national press to feature the band on a cover? Well, they are, even though Rolling Stone has been dry humping Dr. Dog in print and online for the last three years. Dr. Dog just might be ready to explode, but Relix is waaaaay down on the list of people in the know, and believe me, if the band does blow up, Relix will be the main perpetrator inundating the world with too much coverage of the too many copycat Philly bands that really aren't quite so good.

Dr. Dog's "Fate" will be released on July 22nd, and if it's anything like the previous recordings, will be well worth the purchase price. Relix Issue #whatever will be out soon enough to provide further argument for online music publications killing print media entirely.

R.I.P. The Teeth

The great Philly band The Teeth have officially disbanded, sending a minor shock wave around certain granola crunching, mildly androgynous, indie rock circles. To be sure, The Teeth were among the elite of the current crop of great bands hailing from the eastern part of the state, having the type of impact that most bands in the mid west can only dream of. Maybe they listened to too much Kinks and Bowie for some tastes, since these guys wore their influences on their sleeves, yet somehow they managed to provide a fresh listening experience time and again, be it live or with a new recording. Plus, The Teeth earned heaps of additional credibility for their grueling tour schedule and "electrifying stage presentation." That's exactly how I put it to Peter a couple of years ago outside of the Garfield Artworks, and it got me a big smile from the giant. Good times. As a humble tribute I was going to offer an account of my experiences as a promoter working with the band, but the more I wrote I began to realize that would just be more boring, self-aggrandizing internet tripe. The Teeth slept on my floor and I watched Peter eat an uncooked can of Spaghetti-o's in a Sheetz parking lot. Add to that a couple of shows, a trip to the Funhouse to see them explode on some townies, and finally, a discombobulated voyage around the foothills of the Rockies listening to "You're my Lover Now" and I have what I consider to be a sort of reckoning in light of the recent news. Instead of selling myself as a cool dude (which the band and their eventual "hip" crowd would probably argue,) I'll share some thoughts about the current state of the independent music scene.

First of all, I can't blame The teeth for cashing in their chips after several years of working with Chris Watson at Park The Van. After all, the guy is a slave driver, and I say that with all due respect. Even though the trend appears to be for his bands to burn out on the road, they do so willingly, such is the confidence the guy inspires. Chris possesses a certain charisma and a ton of hard earned music biz knowledge, as well as a keen ear and sense for which bands are doing things in a way he can harness for his cause. And that's not a whole lot of people. I can safely say that even if something I attempt musically shows up on his radar, there is no way in hell it will occur with people willing to work as hard as Park The Van bands do. Maybe not all of them, but it seems to me that if Chris sets his sights on your band, you will spend several months out of a year inside a van, cruising through the middle of nowhere, playing to a nil audience and sleeping on floors.

It occurs to me that The Teeth, operating within the sphere of Chris' influence, quite possibly blew up too fast in an era were even the most influential names in modern rock continue to work day jobs. If we're honest with ourselves we can see that it's next to impossible to maintain that type of aggressive touring routine they had while at the same time having a place to live that's all your own. Despite the best of intentions somethings gotta give. If I'm asking a question it has to be "what price for success?" Does one push so hard, for as long as he or she can, achieve (in relative terms) tremendous levels of success and then stop? Some bands seem to go on forever, and I have to wonder if maybe they aren't working so hard at all. Maybe those bands that seem to have it don't want it so bad. I'm not even sure which bands I'm referring to, and I don't mean to say that guys in The Teeth were delusional or misguided or in any way doing something wrong, I just wonder what happens to make a successful band, one seemingly poised for even greater success, decide to pick up and call it a day. It's not just the hard touring, for I agree that logging some serious mileage is the only way to get ahead of the thousands of bands vying for the some recognition.

I believe that the internet has diluted the business model necessary for making a living solely from performing original music. People have too many options and are permitted to navigate onto a musical island, thereby isolating themselves from any random influences that otherwise might open their minds to something different. This is evidenced by the numerous varying tribes of twenty somethings lurking all over the web. Modern rock and pop music seem to exist in a previously unknown vacuum of listeners attempts for self actualization, manifest through strict adherence to categorization, fueled by the glut of info on the web. By the end of the eighties most musicians would find the idea of labeling their music to be repugnant, but with the rise of the internet labeling seems to have approached epidemic proportions. Categorizing your band for the sake of a Myspace profile is a ridiculous effort in redundancy. Scrolling down a list of hundreds of options it's evident that at this point, none of them can properly be applied to your band. "Screamo?" Is that a for real musical term? It sounds like more sub categorized bullshit. Naturally, they don't even begin to approach the broad spectrum of classic rock, which makes me wonder who it is serving as arbitrator of the online musical dialog. Imagine what it takes to get your band attention in a climate like that. I have a friend who insists that the internet is actually making it more possible for bands to become known, and he offers plenty of valid points to back up his argument, none of which didn't exist in some form prior to the internet. Self promotion has always been essential to a bands success, only now apparently, you have to own a bunch of expensive computer equipment and be able to write code just to combat the over saturation of music attempting to make an impact by way of the web. It looks like the only way around that is the only way there ever was, bringing us back to the basics of touring your ass off. That's exactly what The Teeth did, that's what other bands on their label do. Unfortunately, when your potential audience is inundated with so many options that they don't respond to any, playing to half filled rooms in the great lakes region goes from fun and adventure to a being grind real fast.

Then again this is all purely opinion. There are any numbers of reasons awesome bands don't survive in the corporal world. Music, however, is something entirely different from the tangible, and has a way of finding a life of it's own long after the creators are gone. The Teeth have always impressed me with their talent and creativity, and as good people. The enthusiasm at the beginning of their national touring was truly inspiring and impossible to maintain. I enjoyed some cool exchanges with each respective band member at various times, and watched as their hard work slowly wore them down. Still, they never let up on the stage, were the energy needs to be dispensed, and have earned their spot in music history. They have transcended their humble beginnings. Frankly, the last couple of stops seemed to indicate that these guys were getting a little whacked out, at least by western PA standards, yet it's hard to say if it wasn't just life on the road, a blur of strange and familiar faces, and too much sleeping on hard surfaces. No matter, this band's legacy will remain through several fantastic recordings and so much great press, so however they went out will likely be disregarded. The Teeth climbed above the clutter and into our ears, and filled our heads and hearts with their love of great music, something I suspect their recordings will continue to do in their absence for years to come. Long may you run, Teeth recordings, and long live The Teeth.