Shock & Awe

When Ace Frehley took the stage with Kiss in Lakeland, Florida on this day in 1976, he's pretty fucking lucky that he lived to put on his boots another day.
Ace received an electric shock and had to be carried off the stage after the jolt. Paul Stanley immediately offered mouth to mouth, but Ace managed to return to the stage moments later. The band was touring in support of their Rock And Roll Over album and he later used the incident as the inspiration for "Shock Me."
Flash forward to 2007, where Ace finds himself in Myrtle Beach, fronting a Kiss tribute band and their version of the song.

40 Years After The Death Of Otis Redding

You may have missed it, but today is “Otis Redding Day” in our neighboring state of Wisconsin. Madison, specifically, has the unfortunate designation of being the location where Redding’s plane crashed in the icy waters of Lake Monona on this day 40 years ago. Redding, his manager, the pilot, and all but two members of his backing band Bar-Kays perished in the crash.
Redding’s widow and the sole survivor of the crash, Bar-Kays trumpet player Ben Cauley, were in Madison recently to mark the occasion and to join the mayor and state’s governor in a proper declaration event. It must have been especially difficult for Cauley, who hasn’t visited the town since being pulled from the watery wreckage.
One of the most memorable and moving things I saw at the Rock & Roll Hall was an actual piece of the plane on display. To be that close to the implement that killed a man still accending towards stardom was pretty intense.
Redding was one of those icons that became fabled in my mind because of an early death. Otis shared his martyrdom with Jimi, Janis, and Jim, but he has managed to increase in stature with me while Joplin and Morrisson have taken a diminished role.
Part of that reason is that I hadn’t been oversaturated with Otis Redding material. I mean, everyone’s heard “(Sittin’ On) The Dock Of The Bay,” but then when you hit the stuff like “Try A Little Tenderness,” “Mr. Pitiful,” “I’ve Been Loving You Too Long,” “Knock On Wood,” and so many other tracks that never received much mainstream radio play, you really begin to understand the loss that took place on December 10, 1967.

The Murder of John Lennon

I was reminded that today….actually tonight….was the day that John Lennon was murdered. And that reminded me of the actual event, since I was actually widely awake when it happened. My memory of the event is acute as it was the first rock star death that had a direct emotional impact on me.
Keep in mind, Lennon had just released a comeback album of sorts, after spending several years as nothing more than a Father. So for me, a young teenage boy in the 8th grade, my entire knowledge of Lennon’s doings was based on Rolling Stone and other rock mag articles. And the last read article that I recalled about Lennon were the “lost weekend” ones where John was drinking with Harry Nilsson and getting into bar fights.
I had heard about his semi-retirement and I knew that he had gotten back with Yoko and had a child. But as I lay in my bed listening to WLS on my clock radio that evening, the first response I had when the announcer read something of the news wire about Lennon being shot, the first thing I thought of was that he had fallen off the wagon or something. I imagined that John had gone out to celebrate (since he was coming back with a new album) had a little too much to drink, run his mouth off to the wrong person and then got popped. I swear to you, this is exactly what I was thinking when I heard about the shooting.
I went downstairs and told my parents, specifically my Dad (who I knew was a fan of Lennon), that the radio reporting that he had been shot. They didn’t know his condition at that time, so I wasn’t concerned about it.
When I returned to my bedroom, the announcer broke in again, but was now reporting that Lennon had died from his assailant. , I returned downstairs where my parents were now watching the Tonight show. The moment I uttered “John Lennon just died.” The news broke into the Tonight show with live coverage of the murder.
I went back to my room and cried until I went to sleep while Lennon and Beatles songs played on the clock radio. It was “Imagine” that finally got the waterworks going.
The next morning, I went to Middle school. Once there, I walked directly to the classroom of a 6th grade teacher who the music geeks thought was pretty cool. M.B. was a black man in his late 20’s that sported dreadlocks and a few rock albums in his classroom record collection. Me and a few other fellows met up in his room before the other students arrived. M.B. didn’t speak much, we all didn’t, because what can you say, really, about such a retarded thing like shooting John Lennon?
M.B. quietly took out his copy of The White Album and retrieved the Lennon photograph from the gatefold sleeve. Grabbing a thumbtack, he put the photo on the door facing the lockers while “Dear Prudence” played in the background. It was powerful. It was perfect.
Unfortunately, it was a eulogy for a (still) incomprehensible event.

The Candy Colored Clown

Roy Orbison died today in 1988 of a heart attack.
I wouldn’t consider myself a huge fan. To be honest, I always associate Roy Orbison with the David Lynch movie Blue Velvet.
You know the scene: the one where Frank Booth takes Jeffrey Beaumont to Ben’s place for a Pabst Blue Ribbon. Ben’s lip-synching of “In Dreams” into a shop light is pretty intense.
As is a later scene where Booth yanks Beaumont out of his Dodge Challenger and beats the shit out of him, screaming “I’ll send you straight to hell, fucker!”
You’re fucking lucky to be alive…
Tip a glass to Roy, fucker.

Trampled Under Foot

On this day in 1979, 11 people died at the Riverfront Coliseum in Cincinnati, Ohio as a crowd pushed their way towards general admission seating shortly before The Who performed there.
I remember the event because it scared the beejezus out of me. I had never been to a rock concert before, and the imagery of crazed, longhairs running for the seats played over and over in my head. Never mind that there were no actual seats that the people were running to, the detailed account in Rolling Stone magazine after the event made going to a rock concert sound like a dangerous proposition.
The concert took place only a few months after the band put Keith Moon in the ground and, perhaps, the incident should have been construed as an omen to consider. After all, no band in their right mind soldiers on without Keith Fucking Moon, do they?
But as we learned, The Who soldiers on, even when half the original line-up has passed. Even when eleven fans perish on their way to come see you.
One of my favorite tv shows from the time, WKRP in Cincinnati did an episode on it, which I think was/is incredibly cool.
It wasn’t until I had the chance to actually go to a rock concert that I realized when 11 people die on their way to the auditorium while actually being inside said auditorium, it’s probably the result of some incredible neglect on behalf of the facility.
Because the worse thing I’ve ever seen at a concert was some dude jacking off in the stands after a Grateful Dead stands.
And nobody trampled on other people trying to get away from him…

Aerosmith-Head First Into Downloading

Diving "head first" into the age of the internet isn't something that you'd expect from such a dinosaurian band like Aerosmith, but apparently, they were the first major band that provided an exclusive track for fans to download, way back on this day in 1994. Geffen Records and CompuServe teamed up to provide fans with the opportunity to download the track "Head First" over the lightening fast phone lines of their dial-up connection.
The premise that "Head First" was an internet exclusive was short lived as it later appeared as a B-side of the "Eat The Rich" CD single.
This impressive factoid of Aerosmith history is nowhere nearly as impressive as the fact that Aerosmith haven't released a decent album since 1977's Draw The Line.
Here's a clip from when Aerosmith meant something.

Elvis' Last Concert

On June 26th, 1977, Elvis Presley played his final concert at Market Square Arena in Indianapolis, Indiana. Immediately after landing, RCA Records presented him with a plaque commemorating the two billionth (that's a "b" folks) record ever manufactured.
Touring in support of his latest album Moody Blue, Elvis ended the performance with "Hurt" and "Bridge Over Troubled Water," boarded a plane, and was dead just a few weeks later.
The clip below is from one of his last performances ever. Obviously in weak physical form and apparently winded, he delivers a pretty remarkable vocal performance.

Happy Birthday, Howlin' Wolf

Chester Burnett, known to the rest of us as Howlin Fucking Wolf was born on this day in 1910. The Wolf is perhaps my favorite blues artist of all time and was one of the first artists of any genre that completely scared the bejesus out of me as a child.
My Father owned a copy of Moanin’ In The Moonlight and, based entirely on his name alone, I gave it a listen. Wolf’s voice was so visceral and abrasive that it was, and remains, heavier than most of the heavy metal albums ever released. I think I lasted one track before I put the album away.
It wasn’t until many years later, probably around the time I went to college and started to pay attention to those references that classic rock always seemed to acknowledge, when I started to examine Wolf’s body of work and appreciate the impact it had on rock and roll. Every time Wolf opens his mouth, it sounds like the epitome of a repressed Southern black man that’s ready to kick the shit out of his oppressor by means of his voice alone. And there are times in which he sounds like he can do it.
One of my favorite Wolf albums is The London Howlin Wolf Sessions, probably because it attempts (and succeeds) to bridge the gap between old school blues and the fans who were inspired by it to the point where they started down their own journey. Wolf is joined by such luminaries like Charlie Watts, Bill Wyman, Steve Winwood, and Eric Clapton. At one point, Wolf shows Clapton how to play a guitar part and Eric obediently listens to the master. Clapton tries to get Wolf to play on the track, but he’s too stubborn to consider Eric’s request.
Not only was Wolf’s voice intimidating, so was his stature; over six feet tall and over 300 pounds, he didn’t need any punk-ass English cracker telling him what to do.
But the best place to start with discovering the music of Howlin Wolf is with The Chess Box, three discs (reasonably priced too) filled with great, guttural blues classics that perfectly captures the essence of what made him such a legend.

Happy birthday, Wolf, you bad motherfucker.

Rock & Roll Turns 56

That’s a picture of a 1949 Oldsmobile 88. Ike Turner had one, or at least, wanted to have one. In fact, Ike Turner liked the car so much that he wrote a song about it. The song was called “Rocket 88,” and if you’ve heard it, you’ve got to acknowledge that it’s pretty awesome.
“Rocket 88” is more than just an awesome song; it’s also the first rock and roll song ever recorded. So I guess if you didn’t like it, then there’s something wrong with you. Seriously.
And go fuck yourself if you consider “Rock Around The Clock” or “Jailhouse Rock” to be the first rock and roll song ever made.
Crackers didn’t make rock and roll; they just marketed it more effectively.
The fact that Ike Turner wrote “Rocket 88” doesn’t make it right that he laid into Tina, but it may provide some insight into why he would even consider hitting a woman.
Maybe the fact that he may be the person responsible for “inventing” rock and roll and some white hillbilly is the one who often gets credit for it, might have been enough to turn Ike Turner into a bitterly stupid wife beater.
The good news is that when you listen to “Rocket 88,” you don’t think about Ike Turner, beating up women, or if the artist is black or white.
When you listen to it, you just think it’s a killer rock and roll song about a badass car.
“Rocket 88” was recorded by Sam Phillips in Memphis, Tennessee on March 5, 1951 and reached #1 on the rhythm and blues charts on this day, June 8th, some fifty-six years ago.

From The Press Room Of The RIAA

Yesterday, the RIAA posted the following press release on their website:

New Wave of RIAA Pre-Lawsuit Letters Targets Music Theft on 13 Campuses
Northern Illinois University, University of Southern California, University of South Florida and University of Tennessee Receive 50 Letters Each
First Letters to Brandeis, Duke, MIT, Tufts, University of Iowa Come in Fourth Wave of New Recording Industry Deterrence Program

WASHINGTON – On behalf of the major record companies, the Recording Industry Association of America (RIAA) today sent a fourth wave of 402 pre-litigation settlement letters to 13 universities.
Earlier this year, the RIAA launched new deterrence and education initiatives focused on illegal file trafficking on college campuses – a significant escalation and expansion of the industry’s ongoing efforts, coupled with the implementation of a new process that gives students the opportunity to resolve copyright infringement claims against them at a discounted rate before a formal lawsuit is filed. Each pre-litigation settlement letter informs the school of a forthcoming copyright infringement suit against one of its students or personnel and requests that university administrators forward that letter to the appropriate network user.
In the fourth wave of this new initiative, the RIAA today sent letters in the following quantities to 13 schools, including: Brandeis University (15 pre-litigation settlement letters), Duke University (35), Iowa State University (15), Massachusetts Institute of Technology – MIT (23), Northern Illinois University (50), Syracuse University (20), Tufts University (15), University of Georgia (19), University of Iowa (25), University of Southern California (50), University of South Florida (50), University of Tennessee (50), and the University of Texas - Austin (35).
“With record companies embracing digital distribution models of every kind, there is more legal music available now than ever before,” said Steven Marks, Executive Vice President and General Counsel, RIAA. “For students, many of these high-quality music options are available at deeply discounted rates – or even free. Yet, for one reason or another, theft on college campuses continues at disproportionately high levels. We will continue to educate fans of all ages, but deterrence is equally important. Students must understand that there are consequences for their illegal actions.”

C'mon U.N.I.! My alma-matter is falling behind the other two state universities in their theft of music. Buckle down and start ripping off some albums to get on the R.I.A.A.'s shit list!
Look, I don't have the answers, but I'm fairly sure that policing the nation's universities and making threats against them are the way to curtail against illegal downloading.
The record labels, not universities, students, or music fans in general are entirely to blame for illegal downloading and the subsequent loss of revenue and royalties.
If you ask me, the record companies failed to develop an adequate way to address a means of delivering music in the preferred format of the general public. Additionally, the record companies are to blame for holding on to an antiquated accounting system, their complete shafting of independent record stores (allowing select "big box" retailers to create a price-cutting monopoly of their products), jacking up the price of their products when manufacturing costs were lowered (yes, I remember), and creating a business model that only makes money if an artist is able to sell loads of records.
But the R.I.A.A. is essentially a puppet for the major labels, so it's expected that they wouldn't bite the hand that feeds them and, in turn, goes after the lowest common denominator in regards to their problem.
When will they understand that the people their targeting are the same people they'll need to turn the business around? Instead of calling them "thieves," shouldn't a more appropriate title be "jaded music fans?" You'll never eliminate the word "jaded" from their title by threatening them with legal action. What you'll end up doing is making sure that they'll no longer be music fans at all.

Happy Together (Under Contractual Obligations)

So what do you think of The Turtles?
Yeah, me too.
I haven't thought much of The Turtles at all.
Oh sure, "Happy Together" is a good tune. It's one that I won't change the dial when it's playing on an oldies station.
My parents had a couple of singles by The Turtles, one of which was a cover version of Dylan's "It Ain't Me Babe."
I thought it was pretty cool as a kid, but only because it was on White Whale Records. The record company's logo was, you guessed it, a white whale. That's what made it awesome.
Other than that, I don't really have much to say about The Turtles.
But The Turtles have a lot to say about the business side of music...And perhaps people should pay attention to them
Below is a clip from You Tube featuring Mark Volman and Howard Kaylan who occasionally perform as The Turtles to this day. They detail all of the managerial problems they encountered during their heyday, and they manage to do it with a healthy sense of humor.
After the headaches of The Turles ended, Volman and Kaylan later joined Frank Zappa and The Mothers of Invention (billed as "Flo & Eddie") around the time of the Chunga's Revenge release. They also worked as backing vocalists for a variety of artists including T-Rex, John Lennon, Bruce Springsteen, Alice Cooper, and many others. For the younger viewers, they were also the brainchilds behind the soundtrack albums for The Care Bears and Strawberry Shortcake.

2007 Rock & Roll Hall Of Fame

Now it’s getting interesting. 2007 marks the first year that rap is recognized in the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame and your Dad is pissed off. Actually, a lot of people are pissed off; with all of the no-brainers already inducted, the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame is now to the point where they are including controversial acts and while still ignoring others.
To be honest, I was a little pissed myself that The Stooges were curiously left out (again) this year while The Ronettes, a "band" that I assumed to be nothing more than a Phil Spector project, were included.
After screaming "Fuck you, Jann Wenner!" a few times, I calmed down and realized that the oversight is nothing new and, ultimately, inevitable.
Could this be the first signs of the Rock Hall transistioning from the old guard to the new?
Before I open up that can of worms, here’s a quick rundown of the ’07 inductees.

• Grandmaster Flash & the Furious Five-The fact is, without introducing rap music, the Rock Hall would run out of artists, or at least artists that would insure the profitability of the damn thing afloat. And if you’re going to open the door to rap music, you have to start with Grandmaster Flash & the Furious Five. For real: most of the people I knew that had the single “The Message” had it right next to their rock records anyway. So what’s the difference? Flash looked visibly moved that he was inducted at the end of the set, and for me, that made the entire “controversy” irrelevant. And fuckin’ a: they had the tightest performance of the entire evening.


• The Ronettes-Another controversial inductee. Anyone as foxy as these chicks and anyone who married Phil Spector….And lived to tell about…Deserves a place in the Rock Hall.


• Patti Smith-Controversy again. This time it’s about lack of commercial success and the perception that the Rock Hall has developed into an elitist board that’s supposed to teach us dummies what we should be listening to. The reality is that Patti Smith had an enormous impact on rock music, regardless of her carpet bagging, hippy idealism. Her performance of “Rock & Roll Nigger” was probably one of the most notorious moments in the history of Rock Hall performances. Keith Richard, one of Smith’s primary influences, dyed his hair for the occasion and looked relatively good.


• Van Halen-Jesus H. Christ, what a clusterfuck. Yet another controversial inductee (see: rock elitism) but the fact remains that they deserve to be in there. Just not in the manner in which they were represented. Sammy Hagar and Michael Anthony were the ones on hand to accept, and if the presence of Sammy wasn’t enough to turn your stomach, how about Velvet Revolver covering a few V.H. tunes? Slash completely fucked up the introduction to “Ain’t Talkin’ ‘Bout Love” before Scott Weiland managed to turn the entire performance into a joke. Weiland donned some strange type of vocal styling that was nowhere near David Lee Roth, Sammy Hagar, or even himself. It was the most awfully perfect way to introduce one of the most insanely frustrating bands. For all the drama that V.H. has put fans through lately, the Velvet Revolver performance was karma at its best. Telling, Hagar waxed at how he was honored how one of the “best rock bands around today” literally raped the material they presented. The Red Rocker wasn’t much better either as he sounded completely flat during a walk through of “Why Can’t This Be Love.” Truly, one of the worst performances in Rock Hall ceremony history.


• R.E.M.-About the only inductee that was mutually agreed upon, and rightfully so. Eddie Vedder managed to both passionately speak about the band and virtually guarantee Pearl Jam’s induction into the Hall in 2016. I think Michael Stipe came out of the closet during the acceptance speech! And Holy Shit, I miss Bill Berry behind the kit. I was nearly brought to tears when they did “Gardening At Night.” It quickly subsided when they had Vedder come out for “Man On The Moon,” which was almost as annoying as Stipe yelling “Cool!” during the chorus.

Stipe brought out Patti Smith for a cool version of The Stooges “I Wanna Be Your Dog,” which I also took as a swipe against the Rock Hall voters for not getting Iggy and the boys in this year.
Then, everybody and their dog came out for “People Have The Power.” Sammy Hagar joined Ronnie Spector in the “I don’t have a fucking clue what this song is” department while Keef managed some tasty soloing before he figured out that he was carrying everybody else’s ass. Steven Stills also threw down some nice solos on a few measures while managing to look more and more like Van Morrison (with muttonchops) each passing year.
It was a very tepid and uneventful way to end one of the most debated years in the history of the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame.
Personally, I think the Rock Hall shot their wad fairly quickly during the first few years when it seemed they tried to induct all of the obligatory pioneers. Rather than hurting someone’s feelings, the Rock Hall ran ramshot over the first wave (10 artist were inducted in 1986 while only 5 managed to get in this year) and they’re now faced with an increased debate on who is worthy and who isn’t.
To that point, and to quote a great rock album, it’s too late to stop now. When the Hall started to allow bands in on sales instead of cultural significance, it changed the make up of the inductees forever.
The first evidence of this came in the Hall’s strange choice to induct Bobby Darin back in 1990. If you’re wondering, outside of “Splish Splash,” what rock & roll records Bobby Darin actually contributed to the genre, well, you’re absolutely correct in your confusion.
Ever since then, there has been at least one “what the fuck are they thinking” moment when perusing the inductee list each year.
But now there’s more and more of them for the baby-boomers; the entire Grandmaster Flash fiasco merely reaffirms their tired argument of how rap isn’t really music. They’re also going to have to come to terms with progressive rock and (gasp) metal as those influential bands start to become glaringly absent to the rest of the rock community.
In letting go, I’ve resigned myself to the fact that there is going to be a lot of bands that I would automatically disqualify as being contenders to the Rock Hall. I don’t feel that a band like Kiss deserves to be in, and there’s a whole slue of progressive rock (a genre that I feel, in some ways, did more to harm rock than help it) bands that I would roll my eyes at if they made the induction list.
Like Wings said, let ‘em in. The Rock Hall is not about me, nor is it a history lesson of underappreciated performers deserving of additional recognition. Right or wrong, the entire induction process is just as polarizing as it should be, given how polarizing the genre was when it started.
Just in case Jann Wenner is reading this, however, let me use Glam-Racket as a soapbox to lobby for the following whose time is well overdue:

• Kiss-Look, I can’t begrudge the literally thousands of motherfucking bands that were influenced by these assclowns. So let ‘em in and give Gene and Paul a reason to suck some more cash out of their moronic “army” in the guise of another farewell tour.


• Alice Cooper-And don’t forget to bring the surviving members of the original band, you right-wing motherfucker.


• The Stooges-Duh.


• Rush-The Hall could placate both the progressive rock contingency and the metalheads in one fell swoop with this one.


• Joy Division-Goth began here and there hasn’t been a band more black since.

Feel free to add your own via the comments.

Rock & Roll Hall of Fame

A vacation to Cleveland just sounds funny. That’s part of the reason why I wanted to go there. I liked the idea of having people ask me: “Where are you going on vacation?” and having my response be “Cleveland.” Most people looked at me funny. Some didn’t miss a beat, “Oh, you’re going to the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame?” Hell yeah, I’m going to the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame. I’m a big fucking fan of rock and roll, you understand.

There’s one obvious point to the Rock Hall that needs to be mentioned. Like the definition of Rock itself, the Hall is pretty much all encompassing. But let’s be honest, the “Pop Music Hall of Fame” just doesn’t have the same ring to it.
Then there’s the whole debate as to why a city like Cleveland would be considered a suitable home to the Hall itself. You’ve got the notion that disc jockey Alan Freed coined the term “Rock & Roll,” but that’s a debate in itself. I say: give the town a fucking break. Over half the city’s population has left during the latter half of the 20th century and, admittedly, there’s not a lot of draw left to potential tourists. So fine, put the Hall on the edge of Lake Erie in a town that’s otherwise known for the Browns, the Indians, the Cavaliers, and not much else. Detroit may be the only other city in America that’s probably more deserving of self esteem boosting museum draw, but studies have shown that the majority of Americans think of Detroit as the place where people go to get shot at. So Cleveland it is and it is Cleveland that I went on vacation.
Let’s get to the point of this: if you are a fan of rock music (we’ll use this generalized term) you need to visit the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame. Seriously, devote a weekend (Cleveland deserves at least a weekend) to go there and explore this very meticulous shrine to a musical form that was considered to be nothing more than a novelty for the first decade of its existence.
Speaking of: there’s plenty of novelty housed within the Rock Hall, I’m guessing to accommodate the youth that pass through the doors alongside the parental units (Boomers) that pay the twenty bucks a head to validate the music of their own generation. As any fan of rock will tell you, there’s really no need to “validate” this era at all. Its importance is obvious. It’s the righteousness of this generation that really needs checked, but the Hall does a fairly decent job of conglomerating the phases of popular music while avoiding a “holier than thou” preference on one particular decade. The criteria of requiring an artist reaching the quarter-century mark before being eligible for induction does leverage the playing field a bit, but we don’t really need to hear, nor believe, that the importance of Green Day has been fully realized, do we?
So the kids have their interactive Ritalin exhibits, their Christina Aguilera costumes, and their references to 90’s “old school.” But the real find is for anyone with a hint of musical knowledge and, as expected, a treat for anyone that houses more than the usual amount of rock pedigree.

I image that if you fall into that latter category, the Hall can be a little overwhelming, particularly if you’re with someone who has less interest in you. Consider this observation from a family; I put the married couple to be in their early forties, and their pre-teen daughter and early-teens son. The Dad was completely taken with the artifacts and understandably wanted to take every moment in. The young daughter, on the other hand, really had no interest whatsoever in learning more about the importance of Les Paul and the development of the electric guitar. She started to fidget and whine. The father’s frustrations became obvious. “Why don’t you want to see this?” he asked, literally dumbfounded at why his daughter was bored. He finally reached a point where he didn’t care “why” his daughter was becoming winded. As any real fan of rock music would do, he stopped caring, declaring “I want to see this!” before letting his wife handle the child-care duties. The Mother and daughter went elsewhere to entertain themselves, leaving the son in Dad’s care. He took him to the exhibit that showed the progression of music technology, from Edison cylinders to Jobs’ Ipods. I heard the father explaining the concept of 8-tracks to his son. The son looked confused, and he had every right to be.
The 8-track tape player defies all logic.
If you’re a fan of both rock and guitars, then you’re doubly occupied. The Hall is overrun with them, to the point where you’re exhausted just trying to keep up. There are those that require some comments: the end result of “London Calling” coverboy Paul Simonon smashing his Fender bass, Howlin’ Wolf’s electric guitar, virtually all of Jerry Garcia’s Doug Irwin guitars, and countless others. There are some glaring omissions (we get Michael Anthony’s Jack Daniels bass but not one Eddie Van Halen six string) but give the Hall credit for not throwing up a bunch of autographed shit and calling it memorabilia. You can get that at any local Hard Rock Café.
There was a couple of special exhibits while I was there: a section devoted to Roy Orbison (pretty cool, particularly Roy’s handwritten action plan for himself, detailing what he was going to do with his career from that point forward) and another one for Bob Dylan’s “American Journey”, documenting his life from 1956 to 1966. This one was a tad mediocre, overflowing with interactive spots that essentially mirror the “No Direction Home” documentary and provide little additional insight. It was, however, somewhat eerie seeing Woody Guthrie’s Greystone Park Psychiatric Hospital t-shirt that he wore while housed there, dying from Huntington’s disease.
Other notable artifacts (for me) included John Lennon’s handwritten lyrics to “In My Life,” childhood drawings from Jimi Hendrix, the mangled airplane skin from Otis Redding’s last plane ride, Jim Morrison’s report card (where he received a “D” in citizenship) and, fuck it, there are way to many things for me to list here.
Whatever your feelings about Jann Wenner, Dave Marsh, Cleveland, or that the whole idea of a rock and roll hall of fame is indeed a “piss stain,” you will find yourself humbled and attentive once you make amends and go there.

The Oasis Is Dry

Don’t expect me to get all sentimental about the news that Gabe’s Oasis is closing. For those of you who aren’t familiar with this venue, let me describe it: It’s a little shithole in Iowa City that is divided into two sections. The first floor is primarily a bar that the hardcore drinkers fully utilize when the place opens its doors every afternoon. The second floor contains another bar and a little stage that your piece of shit band can play. Legally, I think that the place is supposed to only hold about 150-200 people. I swear I’ve seen more than that in there. There is no functioning air conditioning and the place can easily get up to over 100 degrees during ideal conditions. And the bathrooms? It’s probably a half notch better than CBGB’s, and the graffiti is marvelous.
At one point in time, it was a frequent stopping point for various bands looking for a little Iowa jack. Truth be told, I’ve seen some excellent shows there: Sonic Youth, The Flaming Lips, Soul Asylum, Superchunk, Junior Brown, Clarence ‘Gatemouth’ Brown, Mudhoney, Uncle Tupelo, Henry Rollins, Luna, The Jesus Lizard, and a host of others have had a chance to see the wonders of Gabe’s “green room” and how easy it is to load in/out of the upstairs venue. For some of these bands, one gig there was enough to never visit again. For others, the panache made it a repeat destination; rumor has it that some bands made a point to book a show there solely based on past experience and crowd enthusiasm.
For the past decade, something happened with the caliber of performances at the place. I’m not sure the reason behind it, but I do know that during Gabe’s heyday, there were at least a couple of shows each month that I wanted to see. Lately, that batting average whittled down to about a couple of shows a year. And when you’re faced with the idea of spending a late weeknight sweating out dollar cans of Schlitz, well, let’s just say an evening watching Aqua Teens doesn’t sound like a bad alternative.
Admittedly, all this posturing doesn’t discount the reality that a lot of good time was spent there. This was a great place for some formidable local talent to cut their teeth on, and there have been several shows fronted by local stalwarts that are permanently engrained in my memory. There’s something very reassuring that a band who feels the need to plug their shit first had to lug their equipment up treacherous back-of-house stairs and risk an audience of a few paying patrons. It builds character.
I’m not sure what’s next. From what I understand this closing is merely a “remodel,” but it sounds like the name is going to change and “remodel” means a fresh coat of paint in a bathroom that for twenty years looked fine painted in piss and Sharpie pens.
So long, little shithole.

Top Ten Gabe’s Oasis Moments:
1.) The Jesus Lizard-One of the best shows I have ever seen in my life. There’s something strangely cool about passing a sweaty little man over your head.
2.) House of Large Sizes-Too many cool shows to mention. A perennial favorite.
3.) Sonic Youth-The “Sister” tour. Kim looked like she hated the place. Thurston played his guitar on the rafters. The Hollowmen opened, and gave one of their best shows ever for the occasion.
4.) Uncle Tupelo-Actually, they opened for H.O.L.S. (this was before “No Depression”) and they rocked. Fairly unknown at the time, it took only two songs before the audience completely adored them. Their performance made the ever-reliable H.O.L.S. perform even harder.
5.) The Flaming Lips-The 2.0 version, power trio lineup. A mindblowing performance that made me a lifelong fan. This would have been around the time that “Oh My Gawd” was released.
6.) Soul Asylum-Fuck the haters: at one time, Soul Asylum had some of the best live shows in the Midwest. Run Westy Run opened, making it a Twin City double bill for the ages. I think the capacity was well over the limit for this one.
7.) Superchunk-Neutral Milk Hotel opened. It was Laura Ballance’s 30th birthday and the band gave a spirited performance for the occasion.
8.) Junior Brown-For this night, Gabe’s Oasis was transformed into a shitty honky tonk. Great performance with a hugely diverse crowd.
9.) Luna-Flawless. Just some beautiful musicianship in front of a very adoring audience. I yelled out “Indian Summer” when they came out for an encore, and they played it.
10.) Barkmarket-There was only a handful of people in attendance, but Dave Sardy, Rock Savage, and John Nowlin provided us with an intimate sonic freak out and a few minutes of after-show face time.