Tag: Rock and Roll

Member Post

 

C’mon Ariel, rock and roll isn’t about rebellion. Why can’t you be a nice, docile boy like that blue-collar pretender Springsteen fellow….or those soft,  compliant angels The Foo Fighters. How DARE you pitch a fit like this… https://www.vanityfair.com/style/2021/01/ariel-pink-tucker-carlson-capitol-building-riots-physical-mental-abuse-lawsuit#intcid=_vanity-fair-bottom-recirc_06e34e05-c37b-47c5-b857-2ccdcba0d78b_text2vec1 Preview Open

Join Ricochet!

This is a members-only post on Ricochet's Member Feed. Want to read it? Join Ricochet’s community of conservatives and be part of the conversation. Get your first month free.

It’s Only Quarantine, But I (Don’t) Like It: An Isolation Photo Journal

 

For anyone that’s unaware (and there’s no reason you should be, I’ve spent most of my Ricochet time in the PiT lately), I’ve been in quarantine in England for the last 14 days. It’s been an opportunity to work on Russian revision, GRE prep, painting, reading, and also to be incredibly bored (along with various other disasters). Mostly in a bid to quell that boredom, because even I can’t read for 18 hours a day for 2 straight weeks, I spent a little bit of each day I was confined to my dorm room making a meme. So without further a-due, for your amusement ‘The 14 days of Quarantine: Keef Style’:

Neil Peart, RIP

 

Neil Peart, drummer for the Canadian rock band Rush, died on January 7 from brain cancer. Saturday, the news caught up with us 50- and 60-something fans, as yet another hero from our youth passed on.

Peart was a drummer’s drummer, and people far more qualified than I will give him his appropriate tribute. I do have a couple of stories that reflect my own admiration for his skills.

In 2015 our family went to a St. Louis Cardinals game at Busch Stadium, against whom I forget. After the game, as we were walking to the parking garage, at the corner of Clark and 8th, there erupted a drum solo that drew hundreds of hearers. Someone had set up a kit, and was hammering away.

Goo goo g’joob! As The Beatles (a.k.a., The White Album) reaches its 50th anniversary,  the Young Americans take some time on a hard day’s night to have a long and winding discussion about whether The Beatles really are the greatest band of all time (the answer is yes), and whether they still matter and should be in your life (the answer is also yes).

Member Post

 

Steely Dan, that is. Specifically, Steely Dan guitar solos. Under the demanding direction of Donald Fagen and Walter Becker, a variety of talented guitarists laid down some of rock’s most creative and melodic solos. Jeff “Skunk” Baxter hated the process and eventually quit, while Denny Dias, the real founder of the band, lasted a bit […]

Join Ricochet!

This is a members-only post on Ricochet's Member Feed. Want to read it? Join Ricochet’s community of conservatives and be part of the conversation. Get your first month free.

David Bowie, RIP

 

1974-dodge-dart-sport-interiorDavid Bowie died tonight. He was 69. His birthday was January 8.

I was never much of a fan, but Bowie, like many rockers of the early ’70s, had an impact on me that I’m only beginning to understand now, after all these years. In 1974, when I was a wee lad of seventeen, I landed a job as a disc jockey at the local Top 40 station. My head started swelling that first night — the graveyard shift — because I saw myself as a bit of a star, although I was just wise enough to know that I was living vicariously through men and women who had real talent (or in some cases, what passed for talent). But it was a helluva ride. I figured the chicks would dig it. Of course I was wrong, but self-deception at that age is a necessary stimulant, and at least I was miles ahead of my burger-slinging buddies: I’d done my stint at the Golden Arches Banquet Hall at age 16.

Like I said, I wasn’t much for Bowie. Still, his death has stopped me in my tracks. Suddenly I’m thinking about the songs I played, the on-air smart-aleck remarks that got me canned, and the joys of a youth spent traveling the Pacific Northwest seeking fame and fortune and fun.

Scott Weiland, Singer for Stone Temple Pilots, Found Dead

 

Scott-Weiland

The deaths of rock stars are often painful and lonely. Witness Bon Scott and John Bonham’s deaths alone in their hotel room beds, after binge drinking. Jim Morrison’s death from heroin, alone in his Paris apartment. Layne Staley being dead a week in his apartment before being discovered. And of course, Kurt Cobain’s infamous end with his shotgun. Alone.

Scott Weiland, late of Stone Temple Pilots, Velvet Revolver, and The Wildabouts, joins the sad pantheon. He was found dead on his tour bus, alone. A cause was not given, though considering Weiland’s long battle with various addictions, no one will really be surprised if it was a drug relapse. Rumors abounded that he had fallen off the wagon recently, as he had so many times before. He left behind a wife, children, and two ex-wives. He also leaves a legion of fans heartbroken, as this ends any further music made with his former STP bandmates.

About Those Rock and Roll Hall of Fame Nominations

 

shutterstock_281750147If this morning’s nominations for the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame Class of 2016 are any indication, rock isn’t quite dead. Not yet, anyway. But it does appear to be resting.

We could — and probably will — argue about whether the existence of such an institution is in itself a nullification of the spirit of rock’n’roll. I await your comments.

In the meantime, here — though precisely no one asked for it — is my take on each of the nominees.