Candidates Lay The Smackdown
Has anyone seen the promotional videos from Hilary Clinton, Barack Obama and John McCain that were posted Monday on WWE.com? Apparently the candidates were willing to try anything to get votes in the Pennsylvania primary, even if it meant reading awkward, canned statements littered with professional wrestling clichés. The videos, which were posted on the Web site and broadcast later on WWE’s Monday Night Raw, are part of WWE’s “Smackdown Your Vote!” campaign to encourage young voters to register.
I wonder how much of an impact the videos had, however, because all seemed incredibly inauthentic. It was obvious that they had been fed material from WWE producers. The candidates “named dropped” various WWE pay-per-view events, wrestlers and catch phrases. At one point, a hammy McCain even referred to his supporters as “McCainiacs” as he grumbled his way through his promo like a mix between Hulk Hogan and a senior citizen Ultimate Warrior.
Clinton’s delivery in her segment was stilted; I doubt she even took the time to rehearse what she was going to say. Apparently, her akward delivery didn’t stop her from winning Tuesday’s primary. Obama’s promo seemed the most authentic of the three, but that had more to do with his natural, conversational delivery than with what he actually said. He gave the impression that he was speaking off the cuff, rather than reading off of cue cards. I’ll admit that I even chuckled a bit when he looked at the camera and asked “Do you smell what Barack is cookin’?”
Check out the videos to see for yourself.
So…Hockey?
Early last week, I was going to write something about how jazzed I was when the lineup was revealed forLollapalooza 2008. But, since last Wednesday, there’s been a giant distraction keeping me from getting anything done. While other sports fans have been revving up for the start of baseball season and the beginning of the playoffs in the NBA, I’ve spent the past week glued to my couch, tuned to Versus and NBC, salivating over the NHL’s Stanley Cup Playoffs.
For hockey fans, this time of the year couldn’t be any more exciting. There’s no denying the die-hard passion of both the players and the fans come mid April.
The games, so far, have been exciting, too. The first three in The Colorado Avalanche vs. Minnesota Wild series have all been tough, tense, contests that have been decided by overtime heroics from both teams. What I’ve been keeping a close eye on, though, is the series between the San Jose Sharks and the Calgary Flames. The Sharks finished the last 20 games of the season 18-0-2. But, they have struggled with the speedy and resilient Flames, who have been riding on solid play from big defenseman Dion Phaneuf and team captain Jarome Iginla. Through four games, the Sharks and the Flames have two wins each. Both will try to take control of the series with some early heavy hitting in game five. Blood has been shed at points in the first four games, I’d expect some more to be shed in the fifth.
Of course, there’s much more exciting action in the NHL Playoffs, but I figure that a hockey fan blathering about his love of a niche sport can’t be too interesting to everyone—or anyone, for that matter. I’ll just leave you to check out the rest of the games for yourself.
Enter The Vault
Lately, I’ve been spending a lot of time with my dated music tastes at Wolfgang’s Vault. I’ve been hooked since late 2006, when I found out about the Web site in an article in Rolling Stone. Launched in 2006, its concert vault features more that 1043 concert recordings available for download at $9.98 or for free in streaming audio.
Many of the concerts are from the personal archive of the late Bill Graham, concert promoter and owner of the famed Fillmore and Winterland concert halls in New York and San Francisco. The majority of the concerts were recorded between the mid 60s and early 80s, so you won’t find any rare live material from any of today’s acts. But its wealth of material from rock ‘n’ roll’s past provides many exciting moments.
Check out either of the Led Zeppelin shows from the Fillmore West in 1969. The 4/27 show features a take on “How Many More Times” that is so spine shattering, you’ll forget that the song clocks in at a mind-numbingly excessive 22 minutes. Other highlights include a raucous Boz Scaggs performance (with guest spots from Elvin Bishop and Taj Mahal) on the first of a five-night celebration/mourning of the closing of the Fillmore West, and a Bruce Springsteen show from 1973 at the legendary Max’s Kansas City nightclub in New York.
But, the recordings on the site aren’t merely limited to the giants (some might say dinosaurs) of 1970s rock. Listeners can find shows from The Cure, The Clash, Elvis Costello and more. Even Culture Club and A Flock Of Seagulls have recordings in the vault. If you want my recommendations, check out all of The Who’s shows for blistering performances of their rock operas Tommy and Quadrophenia.
New Kids In The Hall
On Monday, The Rock and Roll Hall of Fame will induct its 23rd class into pop music immortality. Leonard Cohen, John Mellencamp, The Ventures, The Dave Clark Five and Madonna will be honored, joining the ranks of legends such as Elvis Presley, Chuck Berry, The Beatles and the Rolling Stones. It’s a pretty solid class, but the upcoming induction ceremony got me thinking about bands I’d like to see in the Rock Hall that, for some reason or other, have been continually left off the ballot. Here are my top three:
The MC5 – Despite having released only three albums between their debut in 1968 and breakup in 1972, the mark this quintet left on rock music is immeasurable. Their blistering proto-punk crunch and incendiary “fuck-you” attitude helped define the Detroit rock scene in the late 1960s. In 1968, the hype surrounding them was so great that they made the cover of Rolling Stone before they even released their first album. Listen to their debut, Kick Out The Jams, and decide if the hype was justified. If your spine doesn’t feel as if it’s been shattered, something is wrong.
Grand Funk Railroad – It’s hard not to ignore the impact this power-trio had from 1970-1971, critics be damned. While Grand Funk was disparaged in the music press for being derivative, sloppy and unmelodic, their fans ate up the band’s mix of working-class sweat and garage band punch. Mark Farner was never a great lyricist, but the simple lyrics of party anthems such as “Footstompin’ Music” and reflective message songs such as “I’m Your Captain” spoke to his audience of working-class teenagers in their language. Listen to the fuzz-soaked guitar and wailing vocals on any cut from Closer To Home and E Pluribus Funk and you’ll understand how Grand Funk sold out Shea Stadium in only 72 hours in 1971.
Yes – The Rock Hall seems to have a bias against progressive rock groups (Pink Floyd has been the only one inducted), but Yes is as deserving as any. Yes’ music goes beyond the bloated song forms and indulgent solos that typified many prog-rock acts. There are plenty of solos, to be sure, but they rarely disrupt the progression of the music, as lengthy solos in progressive rock often do. That’s not to mention that these guys could also rock when they wanted to. Listen to “Sound Chaser,” from Relayer, or any cut from The Yes Album. The interplay between the aggressive bass of Chris Squire and Steve Howe’s classically tinged guitar is exhilarating.
Dr. Lonnie Smith Trio - Iridium Jazz Club - Jan. 5
Midway through a Jan. 5 performance by the Dr. Lonnie Smith Trio at Iridium Jazz Club, Smith stood up at his organ, calmly stepped to the side and turned his back to the audience as drummer Herlin Riley took off and furiously pounded a funky Brazilian rhythm on a drum kit that was shaking so violently it could have toppled over.
Throughout the trio’s five-song set, Riley was poised to steal the show from organist Smith and guitarist Russell Malone. His aggressive polyrhythms and sledgehammer attack pushed and pulled the trio in and out of virtuosic solo passages. He complimented Malone’s and Smith’s every move, anticipating by milliseconds the growing ferocity of their playing. As Malone’s bluesy, dissonant solos grew louder and faster, Riley provided explosions of cymbal crashes and snare shots. As the churn of Smith’s organ grew more intense, he maniacally swung his arms as he produced fills on his tom-toms with John Henry-like power.
But Riley’s playing never overpowered Malone and Smith. In fact, his energy and confidence behind the drum kit only made them appear more comfortable as the set continued. Malone’s solos grew more ambitious. During the set closer “Come Together,” he interrupted his dissonant melodies with a sudden burst of Hendrix’s “Foxey Lady” that nearly brought him off of the stool he was glued to throughout the set.
And Smith, at 65, attacked the organ with the fervor of a man half his age. He swayed back and forth, beginning his solos in a dirge-like fashion before slowly building his intensity, playing faster and looser as the songs drew on, periodically grunting and growling into the microphone as he drew squelches and squeals from his Hammond.
It was all complimented perfectly by Riley’s rhythmic anticipation, his seeming ability to read Smith’s and Russell’s minds as they explored both inside and outside the song forms. Dr. Lonnie Smith’s name may have been topping the bill, but his show’s electricity and tightness wouldn’t have been possible without Riley.
