Good Vibrations

You’d have to be a special kind of asshole to not appreciate how truly beautiful music is. But how many of us stop to consider how much blood, sweat and tears not to mention ingenuity and tenacity goes into crafting a song, or any piece of music for that matter.

I must admit that I’d given scant thought to this, until I watched the Brian Wilson biopic Love and Mercy this past Sunday. The Beach Boys are a household name to many, but I had no idea what a genius Brian really was.

While the film mainly portrayed a life tortured by (an apparent mis-diagnosis of) schizophrenia and other mental symptoms, Brian’s virtuosity was brought to the fore in the segment of the film where the song Good Vibrations was being recorded.

The song dubbed a “pocket symphony,” was recorded in 17 sessions at four different recording studios over a period of 8 months in short segments. Over 90 hours of magnetic recording tape was used and it cost between $50 000 and $75 000, a record production cost for a mere single. The techniques used by Brian and an assortment of musicians during the whole process was unprecedented.

In this segment of the film you can clearly sense the frustration and impatience of the other members of the Beach Boys and the personnel involved, because it’s quite clear they did not understand the genius at work, nor recognize history in the making.

There is quite a detailed account of the recording process over at Wikipedia for those with more than a casual interest, but there are probably better sources which explain the complexities in finer detail for the aficionados.

Bring back Clarkson

Daddy didn’t give affection, no!
And the boy was something that mommy wouldn’t wear
King Jeremy The Wicked
Ruled his world

I love cars. Which is why I love Top Gear.

But I soon discovered that Top Gear is not all about cars. Oh no, it’s about Jeremy Clarkson. It’s not a one-man show, but his sidekicks Richard Hammond and James May, proficient though they are in their own right, are like the cars they feature, little more than beautiful (and did I say accomplished?) props.

Top Gear is almost all about Jeremy. Funny, irritating, laughing, teasing, politically incorrect, offensive, shameless, devilish Jeremy. There was a time the only reason I bothered to watch the telly, apart from sport off course, was because of Top Gear.

And now he’s in trouble again.

This time, suspended for allegedly throwing a punch at a BBC producer. The reason does not matter. Producers after all are supposed to serve gods actors food on time… and take a punch or two for the greater good.

There’s a litany of indiscretions that’s got him into trouble before, but the BBC knowing what a treasure he is, sensibly did not let those mundane distractions keep him off the box. But now it appears to be different. Two whole shows have been postponed. That’s pretty darned alarming.

So he’s alluded to truck drivers being murderers of prostitutes, and called former Prime Minister Gordon Brown a “one-eyed Scottish idiot.” So fucking what? I despise truck drivers who’s only mission in life seems to be to cause traffic chaos, and everyone knows Gordon Brown is an idiot. Surely we don’t need to be convinced.

But it’s also alleged that Clarkson has offended various race groups, nationalities and religious denominations around the world, including Mexicans, Argentinians, Asians, Muslims and Indians. Boo fucking hoo! People are just too darn sensitive.

Hey, I’m Indian (South African), and I was not at all offended by Clarkson’s remark about Indians being unsanitary. India is on my bucket list of places NEVER to visit, up there with Saudi Arabia (practically all of the Middle East actually), North Korea, Pakistan, Malaysia and 98% of Africa. No, not even when I’m dead and my atoms return to star-dust.

The guy’s a gifted comedian for fuck’s sake. The world needs more of them really badly.

Yes, there’s a much more selfish reason why Jeremy just has to come back. The Top Gear Live Show is scheduled to return to Johannesburg, South Africa in a couple of months, and I DO NOT want to miss that. It just won’t be the same. It would be Stuck In Gear.

Hasta siempre Sr Roussos

This week commences on a sad note. The music world has lost another legend. Demis Roussos passed on at the age of 68 today.

Artemios “Demis” Ventouris Roussos was born in Alexandria, Egypt in 1946, but settled in Greece. He had limited success collaborating with Aphrodite’s Child and Vangelis, but became an acclaimed international solo artist in the 70’s.

I will, like many people remember him fondly for such hits as My Friend The Wind and Forever and Ever, but he has sold over 60 millions albums around the world.

Adios Demis, thank you for the music.

Guardians of Native American Rock

Sheesh! It’s been one long vacation. Good to be back and blogging again, though. As usual we start off the week with some music.

I finally got to see the hyped Guardians of the Galaxy, and the music didn’t disappoint. The way the soundtrack was worked into the movie was ingenious. Not so sure about the rest, so won’t say too much (or anything) about it. It was great to hear a Redbone song selected in the soundtrack.

Redbone were the first Native American band to score a big hit in the States and elsewhere with Come And Get Your Love, although Witch Queen Of New Orleans is probably more well-known.

 

The Return of Chaos

International collaboration outfit Kings of Chaos returned to Sun City South Africa this weekend to continue where they left off in 2013. This time around Gilbey Clarke (Guns N’ Roses), Duff McKagan & Matt Sorum (Velvet Revolver), were joined by Billy Gibbons (ZZ Top), Nuno Bettencourt (Extreme), Robin Zander (Cheap Trick) and the irrepressible Steven Tyler of Aerosmith.

Off course I had to be there…

Last time out Duff McKagan & Matt Sorum were joined by Joe Elliott (Def Leppard), Myles Kennedy (Alter Bridge), Glenn Hughes (Deep Purple), Dave Kushner (Velvet Revolver), Slash (Guns N’ Roses) and Ed Roland (Collective Soul). It would have been awesome had they all come back, but Steven Tyler more than made up for the missing artists.

The ticket prices were pretty steep; it’s the most I’ve ever forked out for a concert performance. However it was worth every cent to see old-time rock favorites like More Than Words, La Grange, I Don’t Want To Miss A Thing, Mr. Brownstone, Whole Lotta Love, Tush, Surrender, Cheap Sunglasses and Walk This Way, being performed live.

The stage backdrop and lighting was far more lively and interactive than last year. I could not take any photos as I was on the floor in front of the stage head-banging like a boozy teenager. It was actually sad to see so many people looking into their smartphone cameras trying to record the performance, rather than just enjoying the spectacle. And it was good to see quite a few older folk (like me) also at the concert, some of whom that can still shake that booty.

The tedious drive back in the rain to the game farm we booked in at was a schlep in the early morning hours, especially after missing a turn in the pitch darkness and getting lost, but it’s hard to wear off the kind of euphoria one is left with after a great concert. If they return next year, I don’t think I could stay away, especially if they bring Steven Tyler back.

Check out some of the photos taken by the media here.

Lenny’s got tickets…

Just because it’s Friday and the girls and I will be attending the Kings Of Chaos concert this weekend at Sun City.

…Janie got a gun
Dog days just begun
Now everybody is on the run

Run away, run away from the pain…

About the other night…

I went to a party the other night… Wait! That sounds like the opening line of a song I remember from back in high school*.

Oh yeah, about that party. It was wicked. Rocky Horror theme; lot’s of alcohol and make-up and wild costumes and awesome music and wild dancing and more alcohol.

The girls insisted I dress up off course; not that I was gonna go naked. But I might as well have been. And what about that get-up they coaxed me into – yeah, literally. Lacy bra and tank top, lacy black stockings. And tons of make-up. Eye shadow, mascara, ruby-red lipstick with gloss and sparkles. I’ve always imagined make-up to be like a plaster caste, but it felt very normal.

That brassiere though was a tad tight. And my stomach didn’t flatter that tank top in any way. But hey, I was not about to lose weight for just one party, especially after working so hard to get it back up to my normal level after that gall bladder operation. Otherwise, everything felt very comfortable. Too comfortable according to the girls. But…. we live just once.

And there were some interesting props scattered around. Like this. Those hands are real, but no, they did not stay attached to the poster the whole night.

And some bizarre naughty like this. Yes, it had batteries, but just for the flashing lights inside. The guy who brought it,  a Nederlander, partied with us till late and went on to ride a 94 kilometer cycle race the next day.

And some interesting people. Like this guy here. Oh wait, that’s just me. That’s not a wig by the way.

Who’d have guessed putting on make-up and dressing in women’s clothes could be so exhilirating and liberating. Definitely gotta do it again some time. Maybe with not so much alcohol.

* Harari Party by an African band called Harari with Sipho Hotstix Mabuse. Have a listen.

Jersey Boys

I don’t normally do film reviews but I going to make an exception because it gives me the opportunity to slip in a song.

I’ve listened to December, 1963 (Oh, What A Night) countless times over the years and never really bothered to find out more about Frankie Vallie & The Four Seasons. Jersey Boys was therefore a timely education in music history for me.

Directed by Clint Eastwood, it stars the main cast from the Broadway Musical and Christopher Walken, one of my favorite actors. Basically it tells the story of Tommy Devito, Nick Massi, Bob Gaudio and Frankie Valli (real name Francesco Stephen Castelluccio) wo formed a friendship in the 50’s that nearly resulted in them becoming hardened criminals, and how they cemented a musical relationship that resulted in the formation of the band the Four Seasons in the 60’s.

A nice bit of trivia was learning that the songwriter Bob Gaudio was introduced to the others by none other than Joe Pesci the actor. When Tommy Devito is eventually forced to leave the band he goes on to work for Pesci, in what capacity is not revealed.

Christopher Walken plays a rather likeable mobster boss, who has a soft spot for the boys, especially Frankie. And as usual he does a superb job.

You may remember some of the hit songs by the Four Seasons such as Sherry, Big Girls Don’t Cry and The Frankie Valli solo Can’t Take My Eyes Off You, but I’m going to leave this one here…

Walk Like A Man

There is a rather poignant moment at the end with the Four Seasons getting back together after more than twenty years to sing together again in 1990 when they were inducted into the Rock And Roll Hall Of Fame, and Frankie Valli remembering how four guys used to sing under a street lamp.

 

Gather ye rosebuds while ye may…

How often have you heard someone say “Life is too short…,” to preface something they’re urging you not to do, or do, for that matter? Gazillions right? I’ve said it too, many times.

And it’s just wrong!  The truth is that life is actually the longest thing you will ever do. Period. Think about it…

Now about that video clip – one of my favorite scenes from one of my favorite films, and pretty darn appropriate for this month. It seems to contradict what I’ve said above. Right?

No!

It just means to live life making wise choices during the time you have at your disposal; that’s my take on it at any rate. Because nobody knows how long their term of life will be, unless they intentionally choose a time to end it. Easier said than done, I admit, but surely we can strive to make more wise choices than unwise ones, overall.

And forget about “living” forever in the afterlife. That’s just a steaming pile of bullshit. Living once is enough, if you do it right, as someone once said (okay, I paraphrased – sue me)

Now for that poem by Robert Herrick from Dead Poets Society with Robin Williams. And oh, don’t take that bit in the last verse about marrying too seriously. It’s 2014 for Thor’s sake; just substitute it with go live in… It won’t rhyme with You may for ever tarry, but hey, you can’t have it all, now can you.

To the Virgins, to Make Much of Time

Gather ye rosebuds while ye may,
Old time is still a-flying:
And this same flower that smiles to-day
To-morrow will be dying.

The glorious lamp of heaven, the sun,
The higher he’s a-getting,
The sooner will his race be run,
And nearer he’s to setting.

That age is best which is the first,
When youth and blood are warmer;
But being spent, the worse, and worst
Times still succeed the former.

Then be not coy, but use your time,
And while ye may, go marry:
For having lost but once your prime
You may for ever tarry.

Goodbye Vietnam

Wikipedia

Robin Williams (1951 – 2014).

A legend exits the world stage…