The 54th Annual Grammy Awards

The 54th Annual Grammy Awards has little to do with me, even though my age and beyond are probably the only ones left who purchase physical products. I suppose that my age bracket is looked upon as the ones that will propel this year's Mumford and Sons into the stratosphere and I'm sure that we'll oblige.

I'm also pretty confident that the Grammy's are the source of all of my parents new artist purchases.

What that means is that we may see another five months of 100,000 + sales of Adele's 21

But the generation gap is amazing when you factor in how my 8 year old son immediately asked "Who's that?" when LL Cool J came out as the evening's host. Moments later, he was the one singing a lot of the songs nominated when I had no idea what they were or who the artists were.

My four year old daughter could also identify the songs, and she also began shimmying her behind in front of her Mother and I during Chris Brown's performance.

"Chris Brown! He threw a chair once because he's got anger issues." advised my son.

How he obtained that bit of information is beyond me, and is a testament to how far reaching pop culture is among our youth, even in families like mine that seem to have a tight grip on their children's entertainment options.

But since he's shown a propensity for voicing his opinion on tonight's performers, I thought it would be cool to include his random ass comments from time to time because, the reality is, he's got a better perspective on some of this shit than I do.

From minute one, it became obvious that this was going to be a Whitney Houston love fest, all of which prompted me to catch up on her career. She had fallen so far off the radar for me that I had no idea that she released an album a few years back and that the tour was a source of anger among some of her fans due to how far her voice had fallen from years of abuse.

"What are Foo Fighters?" my little girl asked while I wasn't sure if they won something. They sounded like Foo Fighters to me, and I liked how the dude from Fear ended up on the Grammy's while Dave Grohl wore a Slayer t-shirt.

It was nice to hear Grohl carry on about how music is best when it comes from the head and the heart. It was even better to hear him get cut off before he got too long winded.

It was clear from both children that Adele was going to be the big winner as brother and sister would finish up "Rolling In The Deep" whenever the fucking commercial that featured that song would come on.

"She does not look like Rhianna anymore." explained my son while my daughter stated how "She said the "F" word." Meanwhile, my wife and I tried to figure out what was the Rhianna/Coldplay connection was.

Finally, Chris Martin from Coldplay came on stage while my son announced "Coldplay sucks!"

Brian Wilson looked sedated and it looked like someone else was singing his part during the Beach Boys reunion set. They sounded good, but I wondered how much of it was canned. It was cool how they followed the camera to Glen Campbell in the audience where Mike Love gave a nod his way for Glen's contributions to the Beach Boys back in the day.

Why so glum, Joe Walsh? Is it because you got stuck with Paul McCartney during his standards phase? Yeah, that was a bit of a bummer. I'm sure the performance was fine, but it just wasn't my cup of tea.

Holy shit. They gave an award to that woman beater.

Every time they mentioned Taylor Swift, I kept thinking of Taylor Dayne.

Was that Katy Perry routine supposed to do that? And why do I get the feeling that her time is over?

Meanwhile, how brilliant was it to have Adele start "Rolling In The Deep" A Capella? It took less than 10 seconds to hear how her voice is the same as it was before her surgery. Adele on the other hand is far from over. Here's hoping that she learned a little something from Whitney's passing.

Glen Campbell's gotten worse. I don't remember the words "gotten run outta town" in "Rhinestone Cowboy." As a matter of fact, there were a few extra words that I didn't know. Like the ending "...snd cowgirls!"

Bon Iver won best new artist and sounded really dumb during his acceptance speech. Check Rosie O' Donnell's tweets to see if she knows who he is.

Immediately after the performance, I noticed a Yahoo article how Bruce Springsteen said something insensitive. It was related to Whitney's passing, of course, but it also was one of those non-stories that someone puts together just because it's time for some ridiculous update.

There was nothing offensive that Bruce or anyone else said. It was the Grammy's for crying out loud. Besides, if we're actively looking for something truly offensive that was broadcast on Sunday night, we can start by talking about the bullshit "we take care of our own" speech from Grammy president Neil Portnow suggesting that we all work together as we strive to fairly compensate artists through physical and digital delivery platforms.

You can start by not suing us, Neil.

The Rock And Roll Bucket List

My cousin and I have been discussing rock and roll bucket lists, essentially a running tally of artists/bands that we need to see before we or the artist pass away. I remember drawing up similar lists when I was a teenager, but you have your entire life ahead of you-so, you don’t really consider the finality of life when you’re drawing up those kinds of lists.

That may explain why my list always contained Jethro Tull

I wish I was joking about that.

I actually saw a Jethro Tull concert a few months ago on DirecTV’s 101 Channel, and I can safely say that my need to see them live is now completely gone. But back when they all wore white jumpsuits, boy, look out.

The funny thing is that as you get older, you can actually manage to see those artists you’ve held dear, and in the meantime, you get to see bands that maybe aren’t on your list at all, but then become so revered-or break up and then become revered that you crossed them off your lists before they actually got on.

Case in point for me: The Smiths, Neutral Milk Hotel, Pink Floyd (sadly, minus Waters), Husker Du, The Soft Boys, The Residents, Johnny Cash, I could go on…

It seemed peculiar that I was having difficulty coming up with a substantial list. Was I so old that I’d seen everyone that I really wanted/needed to see? How sad!

In fact, that really isn’t the case. The truth is that I wasn’t looking hard enough. I’d completely forgotten about a lot of country artists still on the road today that I really need to hustle on, mainly because of encroaching age limitations.

George Jones is still out there, but the last conversation I’d heard from him, I could tell by his speaking voice that he’s probably a shell of what he was able to do just a half decade ago.

Loretta Lynn may in the same league, I’m afraid.

The question then becomes, do I sacrifice quality just for the sake of saying “I saw XX live?”

The answer is harder than you think.

Roger McGuinn of The Byrds came through the area recently, and while the announcement arrived many months ago, I procrastinated for no really good reason other than I could. This classic link in the history of rock music evidently (and unfairly) wasn’t on many people’s “bucket list” when he very much should be.

Brian Wilson is also making the rounds this summer and he’s coming to a very intimate venue a few hours away-a venue that has the distinction of being the last ballroom that Buddy Holly played in over five decades ago.

Surely, I’d be a fool not to see a legend like Wilson in an equally legendary venue, right?

Age and responsibility are also a factor. As ridiculous as the argument is, I still know how long it takes to recover from a late night, particularly when I’m forced to work the very next day. I save those challenging days for only the best of shows-those performers that I know I simply must see regardless of the recovery period.

The last show that fit that description was Dungen.

I know you’re thinking, “This is Brian Wilson!” and I understand that. But have you seen Brian Wilson lately? Have you heard how shot his voice is? While he may have a shit hot backing band that carefully considers every note, we still have a legend with a limited vocal capacity AND he’s touring behind Gershwin material that, at the risk of getting slammed, I could care less about.

Gimmie Smile, gimmie Pet Sounds or gimmie something that reminds me of his legend as he approaches retirement.

As fickle as that may sound, I’ve got to believe that I’m not alone.

Here’s an excerpt of the conversation that my cousin and I had about this very topic recently. We pick up at the point I’m looking at the local rock calendar and discover a band with an awesome name is coming to town.

Totale: Local band name, Dale Earnhardt Jr. Jr.Cousin J: I’ve heard of them and started seeing their name. Pretty sure they’re playing Lollapalooza. No clue what they sound like but I love it…
Totale: Wow! I just assumed they were local as they’re playing in Iowa City next month.
Cousin J: No, they’re up and coming for sure. Not sure where they’re from. Probably North Carolina! It would be better if it was actually Dale’s band that he played in between races!

At this point, I check to see the seat availability of Roger McGuinn’s show.

Totale: McGuinn’s show is only half-full. I got to pick my own seat! Did you know one of his solo albums from the 70’s was produced my Mick Ronson?
Cousin J: Yeah. It’s still weak-ass 70’s soft rock. Hope it’s a great show. Shame it’s not selling. Bad marketing?
Totale: Probably. It (the theatre) was refurbished a few years ago and they’re only now opening it up to music beyond classical and jazz. They don’t want Byrds fans ripping out the seats.
Cousin J: Or pooping on their seats like Brian Wilson.
Totale: Just read “…Bowie would simulate fellatio on Ronson’s guitar as he played. They forgot to add, “while McGuinn attacked the anus.”
Cousin J: McGuinn is playing in Chicago on June 3rd with 80% of the seats still available. 2nd row center seats are still available for $30 bucks…shame…Rave reviews for his recent shows too.
Totale: That’s sad. Meanwhile, those fucks from The Eagles still command $100 for nosebleed seats, just so you can hear “Take It To The Limit” for the millionth time.
Cousin J: The Brian Wilson shows are being billed as ‘Brian Wilson Reimagines Gershwin.' So no Beach Boys stuff. That might make your decision easier. Meanwhile, The Beach Boys’ Smile will be released in a 2 cd set later on this year. No joke. The original one with outtakes and extras…Actually, the Brian Wilson show in Chicago is advertised as his greatest hits. I may go! Tickets are very expensive, so probably not. $75 for 10th row center. Are these two bucket list guys? Maybe I shouldn’t even be questioning price.
Totale: Do you really need to be that close just to see him sing out of the side of his mouth? Macca’s a bucket list artist and I’d definitely pay a bundle for him.
Cousin J: No, but it’s only a $10 difference between that and the balcony. You could probably close your eyes and it would sound like the Beach Boys. His website has setlists and it looks awesome if you can get through an hour of Gershwin which he IS doing.
Totale: I see why it’s (McGuinn in Iowa City) not selling well. The kids are seeing the Sea and Cake are playing at another club the same night. They’re ok, but I don’t see them inventing a GENRE!
Cousin J: Not necessarily the same demographic though. I’m not giving the Sea and Cake that much credit. I’m still blaming piss poor advertising. There’s no reason that several radio stations shouldn’t be selling ‘American Rock Icon Roger McGuinn’ to listeners.

I confess, I don’t listen to radio much-outside of public radio, anyway-so I have no idea if this show was effectively promoted or not. Truth be told, I don’t know how effective radio is anyway, but I'm only basing this on personal experience.

The point is, and the question is presented, how far will your tolerance go when seeing a bucket list performer live? Will you dig deeper in your wallet? Will you sacrifice your quality at work or risk getting written up at work just so that you can see a bucket list show?

Share your own bucket list performers, I'm curious.

By definition, the artist/band has to be actively touring or performing with some regular frequency. For example, Kate Bush would be towards the top of my list and there are rumors of her returning to the stage. I've hinted at my commitment if that tour does happen, even considering a quick trip overseas if a North American tour isn't part of the package.

At the same time, the only reason why I haven't seen #1 on my own bucket list is pure economics. I simply couldn't find the time off to see Paul McCartney and, more to the point, I simply couldn't afford his asking price. Meanwhile, I've pissed away plenty at other shows, and yes, they've been bucket list artists too.

Totale's Current Bucket List:
1.) Paul McCartney
2.) Radiohead
3.) George Jones
4.) Uli Jon Roth
5.) Black Sabbath (original line-up)
6.) Widespread Panic
7.) The Pretenders
8.) Burning Spear
9.) The Cure
10.) The Fall

The Beach Boys - Pet Sounds

So this review is supposed to be about The Beach Boys’ Pet Sounds, an album that all of you probably already own and, if you don’t, either have your reasons for ignoring it (meaning the residual effects of “Kokomo”) or live in an environment where music is forbidden. In short: shut down the computer and go get it now. That’s pretty much the review right there, because everybody knows that it’s required listening and that any true fan of music would hide their head in shame if this title isn’t found somewhere in their own collection.
At the same time, there is a point in every music fan’s life when they don’t have Pet Sounds in their collection, so I’d like to speak to that.
I had copies of Sgt. Pepper’s in the past, but not Pet Sounds. They were feeding animals on the cover, and I always attributed the band to surf music. But in college, one of the labs I worked at in the broadcasting division had about three or four albums for use, two of them were decent. One was The Cure’s Head On The Door and the other was Beach Boys’ Smiley Smile. I didn’t like Smiley Smile that much, but it did open up the possibility that the Beach Boys could do more than “Surfer Girl.”
At the public radio station, the Music Director was doing her damndest to convert some of the vinyl that the station had into compact disc. Having done this before, I can attest that it is a long and slow process, particularly for this radio station that literally had tens of thousands of records to convert. They wouldn’t be able to convert everything, they even had rare recordings from old 78s that were irreplaceable, but they were just beginning to change with the times and get some of the more notable records on cd. Pet Sounds was one of them. CDs were still somewhat of a novelty back then, the kind of novelty where you could have an absolutely shitty song on a promo cd and someone would take it if you left it sitting out because….well…because it was on a shiny aluminum disc. The fact that the Music Director, who I held in high regard for her eclectic musical tastes, specifically ordered this title as one of the first pop discs the station would have meant that it had to be good.
It was better than good. It was awesome. No wonder McCartney had a hard-on for this thing. And why hadn’t anyone bothered to spin “God Only Knows” the moment I started talking shit about The Beach Boys. That song is so fucking great that it’s now considered a hit even though it barely scraped the top 40 when it was originally released. How do I know it’s a hit now? Because my wife knows the words and she’s not the epitome of musical culture.
A few years later, I’m at Record Collector, looking through their impressive bins of used discs. It was always something of a crapshoot when you did this as some days you’d struggle to find anything while on others you had to return things and make hard choices as there were too many records that you wanted.
On this particular day, I was perusing the “B” section and both Sgt Pepper’s and Pet Sounds were sitting there. I pulled out both and brought them to the counter where the owner Kirk was ready to check me out.
“Dude! What the fuck?” I asked him, holding up the copies of two classic albums that someone had sold to him in return for an ungodly low figure.
Knowing exactly what I was in arms about, he agreed with my frustration.
“I don’t know man.” He said shaking his head. “I just bite my tongue and pay them the money.”
I went on to exclaim how there is no excuse, no matter how broke one may be, to sell back Sgt Pepper’s or Pet Sounds. Those are two records that you’ll need during dire straits, those “desert island discs” that you’ll return to again and again because they changed the course of music.
But no. Some fuckstick sold ‘em for a few bucks each and probably dropped the same amount on cigarettes or cheap vodka instead.
It wasn’t like today, where kids burn a copy on their hard drive and call it good. To me, that doesn’t count either. You need Pet Sounds to be prominently displayed somewhere and not smothering in the confines of a hard drive in between those ones and zeroes.
You need to go now and acquire it, knowing that you stand a better chance now than I did and running into a copy for yourself in much the same way that I did, as there’s probably more than a few people who are doing exactly what I was complaining about back then.
And if you’re one of those who may be tainted by the stigma of Mike Love and/or questionable career choices that the Beach Boys made and made often, consider that for at least one time, they made an album that changed the course of music and it can change the way you think about them.
Pet Sounds was released on this day in 1966.

Murry Wilson-I'm A Genius, Too!

Lately, I've been fixated with what's become the most talked about Beach Boys recording since the original Smile sessions: the initial recordings of the song "Help Me Rhonda." The date was January 8, 1965, when Murry Wilson, Father of Beach Boys' Brian, Carl, and Dennis Wilson, stops by the recording studio where Brian and the boys are in the middle of recording their hit "Help Me Rhonda." Feeling a little left out, and feeling the effects of several rum and Cokes, Murry proceeds to take over the sessions by offering his expert advice ("Loosen up and be happy!") and drunken wisdom ("I have 3,000 words to say: Quit screaming and start singing from your hearts...So you're big stars. Let's fight! Let's fight for success!").

Brian Wilson, who we've all treated as a damaged genius, is clearly in full possession of his sanity here and even mildly challenges his Father's drunken nonsense. It's funny, and a creepy look into the dynamics of The Beach Boys at the height of their career. What's amazing is that the band was even able to make music with this kind of bitter megalomaniac bum rushing their talents.
Learn more, and download the sessions from the awesome site WFMU's Beware of the Blog.

Brian Wilson-Smile

Over the Christmas break, a friend of mine picked me up in a rental and I immediately took noticed of the selection of music in the car’s cd player. It was Brian Wilson’s “Getting’ In Over My Head,” the first of two cd’s Wilson released in 2004. Now this particular friend is fairly partial to jam-based rock and it wouldn’t have surprised me to find Govt. Mule or the like to be spinning in that factory GM disc player. But no, it was that wack job Brian Wilson.
I say “wack job” because I’ve seen the film “I Just Wasn’t Made For These Times” and saw for myself the mental fragments of a man who had finally imploded after years of physical abuse at the hands of a father, years of psychedelic drug intake, years of over-bearing “guru”-types taking financial liberties, and of course, years of having to deal with Mike Love. That alone would make anyone a wack job.

The rumor, or at the very least, the story as I remembered it, was the thing that finally pushed Brian Wilson over the edge was trying to top the Beatles’ “Revolver” with The Beach Boys’ “Smile” album. So here’s the deal: Brian got a little nutty, Mike Love wanted to know why Brian wanted them to sing all “this weird shit,“ Brian lost a lot of self confidence and released “Smiley Smile” instead, Paul McCartney stopped by one day a played Brian a new track called “A Day In The Life” which pretty much destroyed Wilson from then on out as he realized he may have actually had a shot at finally one-upping the Beatles.
I heard “Smiley Smile” in college once as was completely blown away. I was blown away at how Beach Boys enthusiasts always cited “Smile” as the unreleased masterpiece. Hell, from what I heard on “Smiley Smile,” shelving “Smile” was the last sane thing Wilson did. It had a song about vegetables (complete with chomping celery as percussion), some shit about Woody Woodpecker, and a song about a girl going bald. I only made it through side one, and I didn’t hear anything near “Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds.” Beatles win. Fuck the Beach Boys.
So years later, Brian Wilson makes a comeback and I video tape a small portion of his appearance on The Tonight Show. His mouth is contorted and he looks insane. Leno walks over to him and I fully expect him to give Brian some juice and cookies before someone injects a sedative into him. Leno makes a remark about having Brian come back soon and Brian wants to know when. I can’t remember if Jay understood what he was dealing with, but if I were him I’d make sure the security was on high alert; one never knows what a crazy man is capable of.
In the fall of 2004, I was walking through Best Buy’s “w” section and stumbled across “Smile.” I immediately considered the purchase in an uncanny “must purchase” fervor, but for some reason decided not to buy it. I was a bit relieved when I later learned that it wasn’t the classic recording of “Smile,” but instead a re-recording done by Brian some 37 years later with a bunch of Pet Sounds disciples. Things changed a bit after I heard a few selections from the album I passed on. Even in a limited format like MP3, I could tell that every last bit of detail went into the sessions and, hell, even the version of “Good Vibrations” sounded passable.
But my Brian Wilson buddy snickered when I mentioned in the rental car that Wilson’s version of “Smile” sounded pretty good, asking me if I liked all of that shit about vegetables. To be honest, I completely forgot about the subject matter and became lost in Brian’s meticulous arrangements.

The fact that Wilson demanded retro equipment during the recordings is a nice antidote, but the reality that the thing was recorded in a something like two weeks demonstrates that Brian is in complete capacity of his mind if it regards music. And the fact that he was (apparently) able to recreate all of this sonic marvel live, on stage for a few selected dates, points to the idea that he’s feels so convinced the time is right to release his masterpiece that he debuts the event like it’s an achievement. It is an achievement, but it just misses the challenges and timing that made “Pet Sounds” such an important album. One has to consider how important this album might have been had Wilson found the courage to complete it then.
Regardless, the impressiveness of this album today should not go unnoticed, as should the efforts of Brian’s backing band. They’re so well-versed in Brian’s history that they make the execution of this record sound legitimately accurate. I’m convinced that one could add some tape hiss to any one of the tracks, call it a bootleg or recording session, and have a true Beach Boys fan disagree. This album would not have made any impact in the hands of lesser musicians, but in this case their significance is noteworthy.
This is clearly Wilson’s baby, and he directs the arrangements with a genius precision, creating vocal harmonies as beautiful as anything produced in the past 40 years. If music has become Brian’s therapy than we are all very fortunate to be able to listen in on the healing process. The subject matter is nowhere near the league of The Beatles, but then again, it almost sounds like Wilson was attempting to create a very American album. I guess the album was also intended to be a statement for children and, admittedly, I can see a small child even taking to this album. It may take him 37 years to finally figure out how important this album is. At least that was the case for me.