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61) R.E.O. Speedwagon/Cheap Trick/.38 Special (Friday, June 26, 1993—Sandstone Amphitheater) Ticket price: $12.50
If memory serves, this was Classic Rock station KY-102’s “Birthday Bash” celebrating the anniversary of the station’s debut on July 1, 1974. KY did one of these every year on or around July 1, seemingly alternating between local favorites Speedwagon or Styx (and occasionally Z.Z. Top or Tom Petty) as the headliners every other year. The birthday thing didn’t make the concert any more special or anything, just an excuse on the station’s part to hype things up.
.38 Special was already on stage when we arrived, and they played a pretty decent set of hits. I was glad to see guitarist/singer Don Barnes back in the fold after having left the band during it’s “Second Chance” era—a song which they didn’t play that night, not-so-coincidentally. And they still had Donnie Van Zant singing an occasional song and pretending to play guitar now and then—I still don’t see what purpose he serves in this band, apart from lending it his legendary family name. Anyway, .38 sounded great during their set, which wrapped up with “Hold On Loosely”.
There are nights when Cheap Trick is the world’s greatest Rock ‘N’ Roll band, and there are also nights when they’re the worst. This night was in the latter category, as they played a very disappointing and short set of only 11 songs, and they looked very over-the-hill. Normally rail-thin, guitarist Rick Nielsen looked very pudgy as he stumbled around the stage, and none of the band acted like they gave a shit. Opening with a very flat version of their concert staple “Hello There”, they stuck to mostly mid-tempo stuff like “Speak Now Or Forever Hold Your Peace” and “Heaven Tonight“, which really bogged things down. The lone highlight was “Never Had A Lot To Lose”, but they looked and sounded like shit, overall. I guess a band that tours as incessantly as CT is bound to lay an egg some nights, but they were so much better when I saw them five years earlier at Sandstone.
SET LIST: Hello There/Speak Now Or Forever Hold Your Peace/ I Want You To Want Me/Ain't That A Shame/Heaven Tonight/Magical Mystery Tour/Never Had A Lot To Lose/California Man/The Flame/Surrender ENCORE: Dream Police
Thankfully, R.E.O. saved the day by putting on a fairly energetic 90-minute set. It had been 11 years since we last saw Speedwagon in concert, and a couple changes had taken place, as drummer Alan Gratzer had retired and was replaced by Bryan Hitt (a man who spells his first name wrong), and former Sammy Hagar cohort Dave Amato took the departed Gary Richrath’s lead guitar spot, and was quite impressive. As expected, R.E.O. stuck to their big hits, avoiding the flop of an album they put out a couple years prior with the silly title The Earth, a Small Man, His Dog, and A Chicken. Apart from “Ridin’ The Storm Out” opening the show instead of closing it, I thought it was a fine set, and they even included a personal favorite, “157 Riverside Avenue”, which they omitted in ’82 at Arrowhead. Singer Kevin Cronin was especially animated on this night, and still seemed very enthusiastic about playing for the people, which is more than I could say for Cheap Trick.
SET LIST: Ridin' The Storm Out/I Do'wanna Know/Tough Guys/Take It On The Run/Like You Do/Here With Me/Can't Fight This Feeling/Keep Pushin'/Back On The Road Again/Keep On Lovin' You/Don't Let Him Go ENCORES: In My Dreams/Time For Me To Fly/Roll With The Changes/157 Riverside Avenue
62) Z.Z. Top/Cry Of Love (Friday, May 6, 1994—Kemper Arena) Ticket price: $25.50
As with Van Halen a couple years earlier, it seemed like I went to the proverbial Z.Z. Top concert well once too often. Of the seven times I saw them in concert, this was easily the worst show I’d seen Z.Z. Top do. All the right elements were still there for a great concert, but this was just a very disappointing show. First off, they were touring in support of a poor album (see my “Rock Bottom” post to view how much I hated Antenna), and it just seemed like they were going through the motions. The stage motif was a huge radio (a la the album cover), and it featured a large mechanical stairway/platform on stage right, which at one point lifted Billy Gibbons and Dusty Hill up and transplanted them to the rear of the stage, for no particular reason.
Z.Z. opened with several songs off the new album, and it took a long time for this show to really kick into gear and get rolling, especially since they relied on so many slower tunes as opposed to the upbeat ones. They ignored several classics on this set list, like “Heard It On The X”, “Got Me Under Pressure” and most notably, “Tube Snake Boogie”, although they did revive “I’m Bad, I’m Nationwide”, “She Loves My Automobile” and “Fool For Your Stockings” from 1980’s Degüello. They also did a very flat rendition of “Tush” before the encore (a flat tush is never a good thing!) and ended the show abruptly with “La Grange” without even a “thank you” or “goodnight” or “fuck you” to the audience, let alone a grand finale like Z.Z. usually does. At best, this was a very subdued performance from a normally enjoyable live act, and most likely the final time I’ll ever pay to see them.
Opening act Cry of Love was fairly forgettable, although their guitar player wasn’t bad and the sound was quite good during their set. I didn’t much care for their music, tho, and I do remember their song “Sacred Ground” really grated on me, for some reason.
SET LIST: World Of Swirl/Pincushion/Break-Away/Waitin' For The Bus/Jesus Just Left Chicago/I'm Bad, I'm Nationwide/Cheap Sunglasses/Tell It/Fuzzbox Voodoo/Just Got Back From Baby's/Fool For Your Stockings/Cover Your Rig/Rough Boy/Planet Of Women/She Loves My Automobile/Antenna Head/PCH/Legs/Just Got Paid/Gimme All Your Lovin'/Tush ENCORES: Sharp Dressed Man/Viva Las Vegas/La Grange
63) Ace Frehley/Last Laff (Tuesday, May 24, 1994—The Lone Star) Ticket price $9.00
The Lone Star was a small club located in Kansas City’s Westport drinking district. Not the greatest place for a concert, but if your timing was right, you could weasel your way up pretty close to the stage and get a good view. The place has changed hands numerous times in the last 15 years, and was converted in a Have A Nice Day Café for a time in the late ‘90s, which became a favorite haunt of mine when I worked near Westport during that time. Not sure what the place is now, though—probably a bloody coffee house now, for all I know…
When I arrived for this show (alone, this time), the opening act, Last Laff was finishing their set. I could easily hear their music blaring as I stood out front of the club, and they were playing the Beastie Boys’ “You Gotta Fight For Your Right (To Party)”, so that let me know right there that I probably didn’t miss a damn thing. I entered the club and had a few beers while waiting for the main act. As showtime neared, Ace Frehley and his band entered through a side door about eight feet away from where I was standing and were quickly ushered into their dressing room. Never thought I’d ever get that close to a member of Kiss, but wait—this gets better!
Ace and his boys hit the stage right around 11:00 and opened with “Detroit Rock City” with the Spaceman himself on vocals. Despite some crappy sound at times, this turned out to be a surprisingly good show. Ace did a fair amount of Kiss tunes along the way, including one I’d never heard live before, “Strange Ways” from Hotter Than Hell, as well as an all-time favorite of mine, “Parasite“. Of his solo tunes, “Breakout” was one of the show’s highlights, and in a classy move, Ace dedicated the song to the late Eric Carr (who co-wrote it) and added, “He was a great guy and we miss him…” The band (whose individual names escape me now) wasn’t too shabby, and I do remember the drummer was a real stand-out. Ace brought some of his toys with him, like his light-up “New York Groove” guitar, as well as his trademark smoke-belching model. Would have been an even better show if the Lone Star had a stage larger than a postage stamp—it seemed like Ace and his band were playing in a phone booth.
Toward the end of the set, I managed to finagle my way up toward stage right side near the path toward the dressing room. Meantime, Ace made my day by doing “Deuce” as an encore. The show ended, and Ace headed in my general direction (along with the other people who had gathered there). I was hoping for a high-five or maybe even a handshake from Planet Jendell’s favorite citizen, but I don’t think he even saw me as everyone rushed towards him, but I did manage to sneak in a swipe-tag with my left hand on his left bicep. I couldn’t believe I had just come into physical contact with a member of Kiss—I didn’t wash Ace’s sweat off my fingers for a week! Okay, just kidding…
After all the years of hearing Gene Simmons and Paul Stanley ripping on Ace after he left Kiss, I came away from this show with the utmost respect for the man, because he could still play like a motherfucker (still does, from what I hear on his current tour), and what a thrill it was to see one of my idols up close like that. I’d say I got my nine bucks’ worth!
SET LIST: Detroit Rock City/Shock Me/Snow Blind/Breakout/Shot Full Of Rock/New York Groove/Strange Ways/2 Young 2 Die/Cold Gin/Rock Soldiers/Strutter/Shout It Out Loud/Rip It Out ENCORES: Parasite/Medley: Deuce-Day Tripper-Communication Breakdown-Tush-Kansas City-Deuce (reprise)
64) Jackson Browne/John Hiatt (Saturday, August 13, 1994—Sandstone Amphitheater) Ticket price: Free
A little background here: My friend Tom and I and another friend originally had tickets for the Elton John/Billy Joel concert scheduled in Ames, IA on the same night as this concert that cost like 50 bucks a pop. Meanwhile, I was in the midst of becoming a huge convert to the music of John Hiatt during the summer of ’94 after buying his Perfectly Good Guitar CD, and somehow or other, I was able to come upon free tickets to this show with him opening for Jackson Browne. As it turned out, our other friend backed out on the Elton/Billy road trip anyway, and I so badly wanted to see John Hiatt, so we decided to sell the EJ/BJ tickets. Luckily, I was able to put an ad in the paper and even recoup most of our money, so no big loss. My one regret about it all is to this day, I have yet to see Billy Joel in concert, but oh well…
John Hiatt hit the stage as the sun was going down, opening by himself on the acoustic guitar on “Through Your Hands”. The rest of the band joined him for “Drive South”, a Country-tinged song that was also a hit for singer Kelly Willis. As I found out later, Hiatt likes to change musicians for each tour he does, and he always gives his backing band a new name for each tour (the Goners, Nashville Queens, etc.), so this time he was touring with the Guilty Dogs, thus explaining the plastic light-up fire hydrant in front of the drums. In that band was standout guitarist Michael Ward, and he woke the crowd up a couple times during songs like “Lovin’ A Hurricane”, “Something Wild”, both from Perfectly Good Guitar, as well as the title track itself. Hiatt immediately established a nice rapport with the crowd and had great stage presence—he was almost Bill Cosby-like with his facial expressions and mannerisms. Prior to playing his signature song “Thing Called Love”, John thanked singer Bonnie Raitt for “keeping fresh tires on the tour bus” via royalty checks from her hit version of it.
“Slow Turnin’” ended the set, and before the encore, I made a quick run to the latrine, and overheard someone in the john say, “Does anybody even care about Jackson Browne?” Obviously, I wasn’t the only one in the house who was there to see Big John. Hiatt returned for an encore that included a song I was not familiar with at the time, but has become one of my enduring JH favorites, “Tennessee Plates”. For a little taste of what Hiatt sounded like live during this period, I highly recommend the CD of his performance on PBS' "Austin City Limits". Too bad John wasn’t the headliner here—he played like one! He certainly blew Jackson Browne off the stage, as you’re about to read…
Browne came on about 9:30 and proceeded to reel off nothing but slow mushy love songs that were about as aimless as your average Edie Brickell record. He constantly fidgeted about with his shirt and some intrepid insect that was incessantly pestering him, and even though he maintained a dialogue between songs with the crowd, he sure didn’t have much stage presence, and seemed very disorganized. The crowd started getting restless after about 30 minutes, and after an hour, some people were fleeing for the exits—thus giving you an idea what a snoozer this show was. Browne finally got around to playing songs people wanted to hear, starting with the Eagles’ classic “Take It Easy” that he co-wrote, followed by “On The Boulevard” and “Doctor My Eyes”, but it was too little, too late to save this turkey of a show. He ended his set with “Running On Empty”, and even Tom and I gave up as Browne began playing “Loadout/Stay” for an encore. I hadn’t seen so many people walk out on a headliner like this before (or since). This spoke volumes for John Hiatt too, because I think about half that crowd came to see him instead of Jackson Browne. And hell, it was free, so I got my money’s worth, either way…
SET LIST (John Hiatt): Through Your Hands/Drive South/Loving A Hurricane/Straight Outta Time/Something Wild/Have A Little Faith In Me/Lipstick Sunset/Thing Called Love /Slow Turnin' ENCORE: Perfectly Good Guitar/Tennessee Plates
65) Rolling Stones/Blind Melon (Sunday, September 18, 1994—Faurot Field, Columbia, MO) Ticket price: $50.00
It took me 15 years of concert-going, but I finally bagged that one big fish which had eluded me that I dearly wanted to see in concert, the Rolling Stones. When the Stones played a two-night stay at Kemper Arena in ’81, we were shut-out for tickets in the mail-order lottery. When they played Arrowhead Stadium in ’89 on the Steel Wheels tour, I was unemployed and broke, so I was screwed then. This time, there were tickets a-plenty, and I didn’t mind the two-hour road trip to Columbia one bit. This concert actually would’ve most likely been staged in Kansas City proper, but this was the year that they righted an egregious wrong at Arrowhead by replacing the evil Astroturf with natural grass. It was still baseball season, so neither Kauffman Stadium or Busch Stadium in St. Louis were options, and the Ram Dome in St. Louis was still a year away from completion, thus the Stones met everyone halfway, so to speak, at the University of Missouri’s Faurot Field. Turned out to be a great move, as the home of the Tigers had excellent sightlines for a concert.
Tom and I were shocked to find plenty of open space near the top of the stadium on the sides—the assholes at TicketBastard lied to me when they said there were no more $25 tickets left! Oh well, we were able to spread out on the bleachers with our $2 rented chair backs and enjoy the show, all the same. Blind Melon was already on-stage when we arrived and they were abysmal, at best. I couldn’t tell most of the time whether they were actually playing a song or just fucking around. Late singer Shannon Hoon, who would O.D. barely a year later, was your basic snarky smart-ass throughout their set, and BM didn’t even bother to play their big hit, “No Rain”. The crowd was just as unimpressed with them as Tom and I were.
It was a perfect night for a concert, weather-wise, and just around 8:30 (not Midnight, sorry!), the Stones came on with a blaze—literally! The stage was huge, with this humongous dragon-like arm hovering overhead, which spewed forth a flame to begin the proceedings. They also had flashpots scattered about the stage and behind it on the grassy area of the stadium that went off throughout the opener, Buddy Holly’s “Not Fade Away”. The video screen was sharp too, and it offered great animation and visual effects. And then there was the light show. To paraphrase comedian Tim Allen: Hell, they had lights to light up the lights! This was far and away the best concert light show I’d ever seen. About midway through the show, Mick Jagger took attendance and inquired if there was anyone in the crowd from St. Louis, and about a third of the crowd roared. Columbia? About a quarter of the crowd roared. Kansas City? Another third of the crowd roared, to which Jagger added, “They’re always a vociferous bunch up there.” Vociferous? That sounds like us...
The sound was excellent too, and Jagger, Keith Richards and Co., gave a very energetic performance. High points included “(I Can’t Get No) Satisfaction”—which sounded better live than it had in years from these guys—“Sparks Will Fly” (they literally did!) and “Honky Tonk Women”, which featured a hysterical video collage film of numerous women (of varying degrees of beauty), getting it on sexually. They also played the better tracks off Voodoo Lounge, which was their best album in many years, although they omitted my favorite, the Chuck Berry-esque closing track, “Mean Disposition”. Meantime, “Start Me Up” and “Brown Sugar” cooked, and a dandy fireworks display ensued after the encore, “Jumping Jack Flash”. If nothing else, I was impressed with their stamina by playing such a high-energy show for over two hours at their advanced ages—I remember some folks questioning whether that ‘81 tour might be the Stones’ last—ha! An outstanding concert, indeed—one of the better ones I’ve ever been to.
It took us over an hour to get out of the parking lot, so ironically, we weren’t able to head for home until “just around midnight”! Didn’t get home until nearly 3AM. I had to work early the next morning, and I was running on fumes, but it’s only Rock ‘N’ Roll (and I like It)…
SET LIST: Not Fade Away/Tumbling Dice/You Got Me Rockin'/Shattered/Rocks Off/Sparks Will Fly/(I Can't Get No) Satisfaction/ Beast Of Burden/Memory Hotel/Live With Me/I Go Wild/It's All Over Now/Miss You/Honky Tonk Women/Happy/The Worst/Love Is Strong/Monkey Man/Street Fighting Man/Start Me Up/It's Only Rock 'N' Roll/Brown Sugar ENCORE: Jumping Jack Flash
...but I think I can string together a few words that make sense!
I'M BECOMING A DANGER TO MYSELF!
Well, last week there was my fall off the ladder while gutter-cleaning that left me dinged and bruised, and this week, I nearly guillotined the pinky finger on my right hand! I was merely opening a window on Thursday in my living room—an ancient one that requires a board to prop it open—and the damn thing slammed down on my exposed digit before I could prop it up. An x-ray yesterday showed no fracture and no permanent damage, so my 43-year streak of no broken bones in my body still remains intact, and my pinky is fully-functional as I type now. It hurt like hell the other night, tho...
OH YES, THEY CALL IT THE STREAK!
Our mighty Kansas City Royals are in the midst of their seemingly obligatory annual double-digit losing streak (12-and-counting as I type). Things were looking just peachy a couple weeks ago, after they had a nice five-game winning streak and won two out of three at Florida. This shit is getting beyond old...
SQUAWKIN' MALKIN STRIKES AGAIN!
I've said it before, and I'll say it again: there ain't nothing worse than a conservative columnist/pundit with an agenda, and Michelle Malkin is Exhibit A of that. In case you missed it, she made a big stink this week in her regular column about a Dunkin Donuts TV ad featuring TV host Rachel Ray, and more specifically, the thing she wore around her neck in said ad, which Malkin claims is a keffiyeh. I'll let her clue you in: "The keffiyeh, for the clueless, is the traditional scarf of Arab men that has come to symbolize murderous Palestinian jihad. Popularized by Yassir Arafat and a regular adornment of Muslim terrorists appearing in beheading and hostage-taking videos, the apparel has been mainstreamed by both ignorant (and not so ignorant) fashion designers and left-wing icons...The scarves are staples at anti-Israel rallies in San Francisco and Berkeley."
Count me among the clueless, then, because you know what I see this woman wearing? A garment bearing a strong resemblance to something I'd pull out of the rag bag I keep under my kitchen sink! Guess that makes me a terrorist too, huh, Michelle? Okay, maybe this scarf is what Malkin says it is, but even so, are we really supposed to believe that a vapid talk show host like Rachel Ray (let alone Dunkin Donuts) has evil intentions? Would anyone else besides Malkin be offended by this ad if MM hadn't opened her yap? Highly unlikely. Now, if Rachel was wearing a swastika, I might be alarmed, but this is a freakin' travesty! What next? Danica Patrick buttons her coveralls like a terrorist? Jared from Subway wears a jihadic zipper in his pants? Come to think of it, I've always wondered about that thing Kermit The Frog wears around his neck...
Here's Malkin's entire column, if you care to waste precious minutes of your life reading it. It just astounds me how intellectually bankrupt Michelle Malkin is—she makes Dan Quayle's infamous "Murphy Brown" remark sound like the work of a Rhodes Scholar. I just find it pathetic when xenophobic people like her go out of their way to find terrorism (and/or racism) at every turn. Malkin is almost as offensive in her own way as Ann Coulter with the ignorant crap she spews forth—how this twit rates a weekly column in major newspapers across the country is a mystery to me...
HARVEY KORMAN, 1927-2008
Was saddened to learn of the death of funny-man Harvey Korman this week. My old man hated Carol Burnett, for some reason, so it wasn't until I had my own TV in my bedroom that I got to watch her show and enjoy the exploits of her outstanding ensemble cast, including Korman and Tim Conway. It was fun to tune in each week to see when Conway was going to make Korman break character and bust out laughing, and of course, Korman was pretty funny in his own right. R.I.P., Hedley Lamarr...
EARLE HAGEN, 1919-2008
Another important figure in Hollywood passed away this week. You may not know Earle Hagen's name, but you know of his work if you watched TV at all in the '60s and '70s. Hagen was a prolific composer/musician who created so many instantly-identifiable theme songs to numerous TV shows, including "Gomer Pyle, USMC", "That Girl", "I Spy", "The Dick Van Dyke Show" and "The Mod Squad", the latter of which is one of the most kick-ass theme songs from a cop show ever. And then there's his most famous work—that's Easy Earle whistling along to his "Andy Griffith Show" theme, too.
WANNA SEE SOMETHING FUNNY?
Then check out this ancient Amboy Dukes video, featuring my ex-idol Fred Nugent on guitar. By George, I believe da boy's wearing mascara there—how gauche! And somehow, the Nancy Sinatra clones dancing along with the band don't exactly strike me as being Gonzo Rock 'N' Roll. Btw, nice suit, Ted!
EXTREME MAKEOVER, HOLLAND'S COMET EDITION
This is my bedroom on drugs...
And this is my bedroom today, after nearly two months of remodeling...
And let me tell you, my friends, I am exhausted!
THIS JUST IN...
The Streak is ovah! Royals win! Royals win!
With a music collection as large as mine is, there’s bound to be a few clunkers in it, so here’s a little countdown of the 20 or so worst albums in my collection…
20) Purpendicular—DEEP PURPLE (1996) Here’s a supreme example of when a once-mighty band really needs to hang it up. The momentum generated by the successful ‘80s reunion of DP’s classic lineup of Gillan/Blackmore/Glover/Lord/Paice had long since dissipated by the time they put out this dull record. Ritchie Blackmore was long gone too, having been replaced by former Dixie Dregs/Kansas guitarist Steve Morse, and DP was merely going through the motions. Why even bother?
19) Live Evil—BLACK SABBATH (1982) This album was a major flop, and rightly so—there was just something blasphemous to me about Ronnie James Dio singing the old Black Sabbath songs, especially "Iron Man" and "Paranoid". Dio sounded dandy on his own Sabbath songs here, but his interpretations of Ozzy’s songs were downright silly. This album didn’t sound very "live" to me, either, almost as if they recorded it in the studio with crowd noise overdubbed. Cheap Trick, Kiss and W.A.S.P. are also guilty of this (to varying degrees) on their "live" records.
18) Bloodrock 2—BLOODROCK (1971) This is one of the rare times I agree with a Rolling Stone critic, who called this band "bottom of the barrel". Apart from their creepy hit single "D.O.A." (not to be confused with the Van Halen tune of the same name) about the aftermath of a horrific plane crash, this album was just pitiful. I assume Bloodrock 1 was better, since Capitol Records saw fit to let them release a second album.
17) Ceremony—THE CULT (1991) My expectations were very high for The Cult’s follow-up to 1989’s killer Sonic Temple, which featured a cool triumvirate of songs—"New York City", "Automatic Blues" and "Soldier Blue"—in addition to the big hits off it like "Fire Woman", "Sun King" and "Edie (Ciao Baby)". Evidently, singer Ian Astbury and guitarist Billy Duffy shot their wad on Temple, because Ceremony was beyond dull—nothing but bland mid-tempo stuff that didn’t rock out at all. The next album after that one in 1994 wasn’t much better.
16) Good Stuff—THE B-52’S (1992) The title here could not have been a bigger misnomer. The B-52’s were totally unprepared for the unenviable task of following up their mega-hit 1989 album Cosmic Thing, and this turned out to be a mega-flop. While the departure of long-time singer Cindy Wilson rendered the group a threesome, it wouldn’t have mattered if she was still in the group with such lame lines as "I wanna be dangin’ with your dang good stuff!" Too bad, because the 52’s can be a fun group with the right material.
15) We’ve Got A Fuzzbox, And We’re Gonna Use It—FUZZBOX (1987) I brought home a promo copy of this album from the "Mighty 1030", KKJC-AM when I was working there. Why on earth Geffen Records thought we’d have any use for it at our little Oldies/Adult Contemporary station is beyond me, and I’m not sure why it’s even still in my collection. This was just a bad album by a group of untalented New Wave punk chicks, the highlight from which (if you wanna call it that) being a silly remake of Norman Greenbaum’s "Spirit In The Sky".
14) Gone Troppo—GEORGE HARRISON (1982) I picked this one up in the cut-out bin at Musicland for a buck—it wasn’t even worth that much! George was merely phoning his records in by the early ‘80s, and I found it sad that such a lame record would come from an ex-Beatle.
13) If You Can’t Lick ‘Em, Lick ‘Em—TED NUGENT (1988) Rev. Theodosuis Atrocious’ downward spiral in the ‘80s continued as Nugent did just like George and basically phoned this album in. Full of lame songs (and lame videos) like "She Drives Me Crazy" and "That’s The Story Of Love", it's no small coincidence that he joined Damn Yankees the next year—he had nothing better to do, anyway. And believe it or not, this isn't even Nugent's worst album—read on, friends...
12) Pipes of Peace—PAUL McCARTNEY (1983) I still haven’t quite forgiven Big Macca for that "Say, Say, Say" debacle. As I used to parody it, "But don’t play games with my erection…". Sad to say, but the rest of this album was almost as wretched. Dirty shame too, because Paul seemed to be back on track with his previous album Tug Of War from ’82 after the string of mediocre records that ensued after Wings At The Speed Of Sound in '76…
11) Antenna—Z.Z. TOP (1994) You could sense that Z.Z. was falling into a comfortable rut on their 1990 release, Recycler, which was only about half-decent. Z.Z. was known for taking extended periods off between albums, and it was usually worth the wait, but not this time, as that comfortable rut had by now completely enveloped the band. All the songs sounded practically identical on Antenna—you couldn’t tell one from the other—and they all had the same bland crunchy guitar riffs and lame subject matter ("Pincushion", "Girl In A T-Shirt", "Cover Your Rig", et al), totally devoid of the sense of humor and/or upbeat blues boogie found on most of their previous albums. One would think being on a new label (RCA) would have inspired Z.Z. to put out something a tad more lively. Sadly, they now seem to take their core audience for granted and just put out the same old stuff every time, as their subsequent releases like Rhythmeen and XXX haven’t been much better. Perhaps they should rename themselves Zzzzzzzzz Top, because this stuff would put you to sleep!
10) Other Voices—THE DOORS (1971) A lot of people are unaware that The Doors continued on as a trio after Jim Morrison kicked the bucket in his bathtub in July, 1971. As misanthropic and pretentious as Mr. Mojo Risin’ was, he was sorely missed all the same when Ray Manzarek and guitarist Robbie Krieger tried their hands at singing—hence the album’s very cryptic title. Manzarek is one of my favorite keyboardists of all-time, and his simultaneous multi-tasking on the bass organ was admirable, but I’m sorry to say the man cannot sing! Let me put it this way, Brother Ray sings about as well as I wrap Christmas presents, and as my close friends will attest, I suck at gift-wrapping. Having a song with a title like "I’m Horny, I’m Stoned" did little to enhance this album either. I don’t know if this LP was purely contractual obligation stuff or just bull-headed stupidity (probably both), but Manzarek, Krieger, and drummer John Densmore really should’ve hung it up the nanosecond Morrison’s heart stopped.
9) Balance—VAN HALEN (1995) VH began to lose their edge around 1991’s For Unlawful Carnal Knowledge, and it was totally gone by the time this album came out. Apart from the rather humorous "Big Fat Money", this album was totally devoid of the good-time spirit of past Van Halen records, and you could tell they were getting bored with each other. The insipid power ballad therein, "I Can’t Stop Loving You", sounds like something Sammy Hagar wrote in his sleep. I wish he'd woken up sooner…
8) Van Halen 3—VAN HALEN (1998) Wait, it gets worse! Out goes Hagar, in comes Gary Cherone (formerly of Extreme) to supposedly save the ship. Uhhh—it didn’t work! To be fair, Cherone's a great singer when he’s himself, but when he tries to imitate Hagar, the results are far less satisfying. This colossal flop really wasn’t his fault, anyway, as by this time Eddie Van Halen had morphed into Little Hitler and was making really stupid decisions, like jerking the fans around by bringing David Lee Roth back for two lame songs on the previous year’s greatest hits package. How’d that work for ya, Eddie? What struck me about this crappy album is how staggeringly boring it was. I have a feeling some of Yanni’s records are edgier than this thing…
7) Living In The Material World—GEORGE HARRISON (1973) Don’t mean to seem like I’m picking on George on this list because I really did like him, but let me quote British authors Roy Carr and Tony Tyler from their book The Beatles-An Illustrated Record and their review of this record: "It is not the function of this book to comment on George Harrison’s religious beliefs—so long as Harrison himself can refrain from didactically imposing said Holy Memoirs upon innocent record collectors. Unfortunately, this is exactly what he did (to excess) on this LP." Amen, brothers! George probably meant well, and even though Material World yielded a #1 single, "Give Me Love (Give Me Peace On Earth)", this record is so sanctimonious (not to mention boring) with songs like "The Lord Loves The One Who Loves The Lord"—oh, puh-leeze! George's Hare Krisnha leanings really bogged his solo career down in the mid-‘70s, and it wasn’t until he lightened up on albums like Thirty-Three & 1/3 in 1976, his self-titled 1979 album (featuring "Blow Away"), 1987’s Cloud Nine and the Traveling Wilburys records that the real George Harrison showed through.
6) Victim Of Love—ELTON JOHN (1979) It pains me to rip on Elton here, being as he’s one of my all-time favorites, but even he fully admits that this record was pure excrement. In the wake of his unprecedented run of success in the early-to-mid-‘70s, Elton was bound to run out of creative energy sooner or later, and it might’ve served him better to take a year or two off and chill out, but instead he put out this half-hearted slab of vinyl that featured a disco version of Chuck Berry’s "Johnny B. Goode". Nowhere to go but up after this one…
5) Carnival Of Souls—KISS (1997) As bad as 1981’s Music From The Elder was, Carnival makes it look like Destroyer by comparison. Just as they did with Elder, Kiss tried to impress the critics here instead of their fans, and this time they tried their hand at playing uninspired grunge Rock. This was the only Kiss album I ever actually wanted my money back for after listening to it. I should’ve known not to buy it in the first place when the gnarly dude behind the counter at Streetside Records said, "Ohhh, man—they sound just like Soundgarden now!" If this is the permanent direction the band was headed in, then the reunion with Ace Frehley and Peter Criss couldn’t have come at a better time.
4) The Best That I Could Do, 1978-1988—JOHN MELLENCAMP (1997) Oh, wait—I don’t actually own this album, but boy if I did, I imagine this is about where Mellenschmuck’s best-of CD would rank on this list! (Sorry, Dr. S.!)
3) Intensities In 10 Cities—TED NUGENT (1981) Nugent’s Double Live Gonzo! from 1978 is one of my favorite live albums ever, and when I heard that Terrible Ted was putting out another live album in ’81, I eagerly awaited its release. Talk about disappointing! Instead of going back into the studio to make a proper album, Ted decided to try out his latest material live, and most of it sucked, big-time! Ted went to the over-sexed He-Man playbook one time too many with songs like "Flying Lip Lock", "Jailbait" (not the far-superior Motorhead song of the same name) and "My Love Is Like A Tire Iron", and he sounded ridiculous singing a lame cover version of Wilson Pickett’s "Land of 1,000 Dances". This piece of caca all but killed Nugent’s career, and it never fully has recovered from it since.
2) Two Virgins (1968)/Life With The Lions (1969)—JOHN LENNON & YOKO ONO My sophomore English teacher in high school once said something that's always stuck with me: "There’s a lot of good stuff in Shakespeare, but there’s also a lot of crap in Shakespeare." The same can be said for John Lennon. For all his brilliance as a singer and a musician, there were also times when John was full of shit (as was Yoko), and these two records (which I’m lumping together here), are a prime example of that. Neither of them are even music albums, really, just a bunch of snippets of sounds spliced together with no particular theme at all. I realize JL had fallen under Yoko’s spell and was totally enthralled by her arty-farty Avant-Garde ways, but I’m sorry—it don’t take a whole lot of talent to fart in stereo! As with Paul McCartney’s and George Harrison’s entries on this list, one would expect a whole lot better from an ex-Beatle.
1) Laverne & Shirley Sing—PENNY MARSHALL & CINDY WILLIAMS (1977) Doesn’t live up to the title, especially in Penny Marshall’s case! In an effort to capitalize on the success of the TV series, Atlantic Records put out this album in ‘77 of Marshall and Williams caterwauling tired old ‘50s and ‘60s hits like "Da Doo Ron Ron" and "Chapel Of Love", and the thing is just dreadful. Both actresses excelled at doing physical comedy, and Marshall has turned into an outstanding film director with hits like Big, Awakenings and A League Of Their Own, but you might as well have teamed Yoko Ono up to duet with Edith Bunker—it would’ve sounded better!
HE SOCKED IT TO US, ALRIGHT
Sad news in the world of comedy over the weekend came with the passing of comedian Dick Martin at age 86. He was co-host of "Rowan & Martin's Laugh-In", along with the late Dan Rowan (who died in 1987), a show that caused great divide in our household. My ultra-liberal sister Renee loved the show, but there was a constant battle between her and my ultra-conservative father over control of the TV on Monday nights. He (and I) favored "Here's Lucy" and "Monday Night Football", so guess who won that battle most of the time...
As a small child, I just didn't get the whole "Laugh-In" thing, but flash ahead a decade later when I first got cable TV in the Summer of '84 when WGN out of Chicago aired "Laugh-In" reruns at 2:30 in the morning, and I found myself hooked by this crazy show. The jokes were a bit dated, but I still got them, and I loved the veritable potpourri of personalities on the show, like Arte Johnson and Ruth Buzzi, as well as my personal favorite, Judy Carne. Dick Martin played Jerry Lewis to Dan Rowan's Dean Martin (no relation), and he was brilliantly goofy in that role. He looked rather sqaure, but he could be as bawdy as Benny Hill at times. Oddly enough, Dick Martin was three months older than my old man, and a whole lot hipper! Say goodnight, Dick...
YOU EEEE-DIOT!
First impressions don't always last, as "Laugh-In" proves rather mightily, in my case. I'm also currently watching the first season of "Ren & Stimpy" on DVD—a show I thought was total crap when it first came out, but now I find myself celebrating "Yak Shaving Day" annually. Here's a little compilation of that which I was initially put-off by or unimpressed with that I now love (or at least embrace)...
BANDS/MUSICIANS
—U2
—Ozzy Osbourne
—Bruce Springsteen
—Aerosmith
—Poison
—Shooting Star
—Kiss (yes, it's true!)
—Billy Joel
—R.E.M.
—Berlin
—The Rainmakers
—Rush
—Divinyls
—Fleetwood Mac
T.V. SHOWS
—"M*A*S*H"
—"Cheers"
—"Rowan & Martin's Laugh-In"
—"Ren & Stimpy"
—"Barney Miller"
—"Empty Nest"
—"Beavis & Butt-Head"
—"Taxi"
I MADE HISTORY! (I'M PRETTY SURE)
Thanks to the beloved innovation known as the iPod, my personal little pocket radio station played three songs in succession the other day that I'm positive have never been played (in succession) ever before in the history of mankind: "Walking In L.A."-Missing Persons, followed by "The Big Beat"-Fats Domino, followed by "Smooth Dancer"-Deep Purple. If nothing else, this gives a pretty good idea of how eclectic my musical tastes can be...
WHY I LOVE OLD STADIUMS
Stuff like these old walkways that led to the upper deck seats, like this one at Tiger Stadium in Detroit. Ramps like these almost made you feel like you were walking the plank to get to your seats. Old Municipal Stadium here in Kansas City had ramps similar to this one, and it was a total trip to a little kid like me to look down and see all those people in the lower deck looking up at us as we traipsed across the ramp.
Another thing about old stadiums I love are the light towers, like these at Detroit's Tiger Stadium. Big and bulky, to be sure, but they illuminated the ballpark like nothing else could. These same banks of lights were part of the opening title sequence to "Monday Night Football" in the early '70s, and I always thought they were the coolest things. The old "toothbrush"-style light towers like those found at old Forbes Field in Pittsburgh and Municipal Stadium here in K.C. were awesome too. Nice to see them replicated in new stadiums like PNC Park in Pittsburgh and Jacobs Field in Cleveland.
And then there was how some parks would allow fans to exit via the warning track through the outfield wall, like in this pic from Forbes Field in the '60s. Old Municipal Stadium here in K.C. allowed patrons to do the same thing in the early '70s, and what a thrill it was for this youngsta to traipse through the bullpen on the left field line. Yes, I realize they let the kids run the bases at Kauffman Stadium nowadays after Sunday Royals home games, but that's hardly the same thing. Long live the old ballparks...
MY FALL FROM GRACE?
I had a little scare Wednesday night while attempting to clean my gutters out when I fell off my ladder. I was trying to access my roof and misjudged how far I had to reach to grab onto my chimney to step up and next thing I know, I'm Curly Howard and I lose my balance and head earthward. Luckily, I was able to slow my fall just enough by grabbing onto the support post of my basketball pole, so the bodily damage wasn't too bad. I was a bit stunned at first and skinned my right knee up pretty good, but my right arm took the brunt of the injuries, suffering numerous bruises and abrasions—it basically looks like downtown Baghdad right now. But, my 43-year-old streak of having never broken any of my bones is still intact. This could've been a whole lot worse, but thankfully, it wasn't...
WTF?!?
Once I did manage to get up on the roof to clean my gutters, I discovered that something or someone had taken a dump on the back side of my roof! This weren't no bird shit, and I don't know what squirrel shit looks like, but this appeared to be the work of a small dog or cat. Weird...
GAME ON!
As I type, Game 1 of the Stanley Cup Finals is underway on the tube. The grizzled vets of Detroit are up against the youngstas from Pittsburgh, and this has the look of a really great series. By way of Motown tradition, the octopi have already been flying during pre-game ceremonies. Perhaps Joe Louis Arena in Detroit should be renamed Octopus's Garden, eh? By the way, if "octo" means eight, then how come October is the 10th month?
Anyway, getting back to the hockey, there was a time when the Stanley Cup Finals would've been completed three weeks ago, but thanks to their endless postseason, we're just now starting the finals over Memorial Day weekend, and I still say the NHL needs to find a way to somehow shorten the postseason. Start the regular season a couple weeks sooner, eliminate some of the off-days during the playoffs, play doubleheaders—do something! I love hockey, but it's not a summer sport.
Oh by the way, my prediction is Red Wings in seven...
YA GOTTA LOSE YOUR MIND IN DETROIT...
Meanwhile, as the Red Wings and Pens do battle at Joe Louis, the Detroit Pistons are home to the Boston Celtics in the NBA playoffs up in the suburbs at the Palace of Auburn Hills and the Detroit Tigers have a home game today as well. I'd bet the farm that the sports bars in the Motor City are hopping tonight...
LOST CLASSIC #1
"Driver's Seat"—SNIFF 'N' THE TEARS (1979) This is one of my favorite songs from the late '70s. Love the pulsating electric piano that drives the tune here, as well as the trippy synthesizer solo near the end that rivals Geddy Lee's solo from Rush's "Subdivisions" in 1982. Back in the early '90s, I searched high and low for a copy of the album "Driver's Seat" was lifted from, hoping there would be some other cool stuff to be had, but sadly there wasn't. The song is available on Rhino Records' "Have A Nice Day—Vol 22" CD, and the song was also part of the soundtrack of the film Boogie Nights, although it's not a disco song, by any means.
LOST CLASSIC #2
"Don't Ever Wanna Lose Ya" —NEW ENGLAND (1979) From the same year as Sniff, I always thought this was a cool song, all about a caring guy worrying and fretting about his girl arriving home safely during a storm—who sez chivalry is dead, huh? NE's debut album was co-produced by one Paul Stanley of Kiss. Very cool song—too bad the band never went anywhere...
IT'S NOT EASY BEING GREEN
I rented Disc 1 of the third season of "The Muppet Show" on DVD this week and the guest star on one episode was late entertainer Pearl Bailey. I was reminded of a funny story from when I was a little kid, maybe age 3 or 4, when Pearlie May sang the national anthem before a football game on TV—back in the day when they actually showed the anthem being sung before games—and apparently the network transmission was bad because the picture made Pearl Bailey appear to be green. For the longest time after that, I thought the woman really was green!
BILL BEING BILL
In case y'all missed it, this recently-unearthed video has been making the rounds lately on YouTube featuring my good buddy Bill O'Retard being his usual lovable self while anchoring that jouralistic institution, "Inside Edition". To be fair, O'Reilly isn't the only one to blow a gasket now and then during taping—Chris Berman does this kind of crap on ESPN all the time, too—but I think we get a pretty good idea of Billy Badass' true colors here...
A BLAST FROM THE PAST
I don't know what made me think of this, but does anyone remember these behemoths you used to find in grocery stores and department stores to test your TV tubes with? Ah yes, for you youngin's out there, old TVs back in the day had these tubes on the inside of various sizes that would blow from time to time and needed replacement, so you'd round them up and take them to the store and plug them into these big machines and see which ones were bad. I found this photo and some other cool stuff on this here nostaliga site, so hop aboard the Way-Back Machine, friends...
HERE COMES THE SUN, DO-DO-DOO-DOO...
Here's a cool photo that a friend sent to me the other day. Thanks, Margaret!
Y'all knew I was going to use that sooner or later, didn't you?
I just thought I'd warn you that there are numerous imposters out there who try to pass themselves off as Brian Holland, but let me assure you, my dear friends, that there's only ONE true blue ME! Do a Google search on yourself, and you'll be shocked at what you'll find out about your namesakes. Check out these scalawags and you'll no doubt see how fake these goomers are:
Brian Holland Announces Presidential Bid
—"Brian Holland, member of the National Socialist Movement, announced he will be running for president. His campaign will begin in May, but he spoke with the NSM after their National Rally about his campaign in which you can read about here further. There’s currently no candidate website up though it will be coming soon."
That's right, I'm a Commie bastard! "And if I'm elected, I promise the formation of a new party. A third party. The WILD party!"—A. Cooper
My musical prowess
—"Brian Holland has to be one of the fastest, cleanest players anywhere today. Every note, no matter how swift, is as sparkling clear as Waterford crystal. His touch is assured and he makes even the most complex passages sound easy."
—"Brian Holland plays in a driving style, his lightning-fast left hand banging out a clean, steady rhythm while his right hand skitters up and down the keyboard rendering the melody in thick chords...watching his energy and dexterity is narcotic."
That's right, kids—I'm bad, I'm nationwide! The above two quotes are courtesy of hollandentertainment.com. And for what's worth, I am left-handed when it comes to guitar playing, but I have never dealt in narcotics...
Buy my CD please!
That Scott Joplin faggot ain't got nothing on me!
I AM THE LAW!
That can't be me on this website—this imposter in the photo is wearing a necktie, the likes of which I haven't worn since 1986! I would never have an initial for a first name anyway...
GETTING WAY TOO CLOSE TO HOME, NOW...
"Mr. Holland practices bankruptcy, creditors' rights, business reorganization, and receivership litigation in the firm's Kansas City, Mo. office. His experience includes representation of secured and unsecured creditors in Chapter 7, 11, and 13 bankruptcy cases, executory contract and unexpired lease litigation, and preferential transfer litigation. In addition to his bankruptcy practice, Mr. Holland devotes a notable portion of his practice to representation of receivers in Securities and Exchange Commission enforcement actions recovering funds, both domestically and internationally, for defrauded investors."
Yet another goomer in a necktie that I would never wear...
WHERE'S MY ROYALTY CHECK(S)?
Now this is the cat I've really wanted to hook up with! He (I?) wrote all those big-time Supremes songs, in spite of the fact that I was barely one year old at the time—Motown wouldn't be the same without me! Oddly enough, Brian and I both have a brother named E. Holland...
56) Van Halen/Alice In Chains (Monday, August 26, 1991—Sandstone Amphitheater) Ticket price: $24.50
Van Halen were still a viable band in the early ‘90s, but they were beginning to lose their edge with the release of 1991’s For Unlawful Carnal Knowledge. It just seemed like the songs on that album all kinda sounded the same, apart from a couple standouts like “Runaround” and “Top Of The World”, and VH leaned way too heavily on FUCK for my liking in this show, and they didn’t even play “Ain’t Talkin’ ‘Bout Love”—WTF?!? The sound really sucked (as it often does at Sandstone), especially Sammy Hagar’s headset mic. I hate those things in concert, btw—they always sound like the ones they use at the McDonald's drive-up window. Anyway, the individual solos from Michael Anthony and Alex Van Halen seemed a tad forced and mechanical too, and by this time, Eddie Van Halen had even stopped playing his trademark red-and-white-striped custom-made guitars in favor of some bland-looking models that he was doing paid endorsements for. The fire and the fun from past Van Halen shows just weren’t there on this night—this was Van Halen on ice, if you will—and for the first time since Hagar joined the band, I began to miss David Lee Roth. A lot!
When it came encore time, the dreaded sound of a synthesizer playing the opening chords from “Jump” caused Tom and I look at each other in terror and exclaim, “’Jump’?!? Ewwww!” I then fully expected hell to freeze over, given that Hagar once vowed that he would never ever perform this cheesy-ass DLR song. I’m already on record here as absolutely abhorring this piece of caca, which—apart from the 2007 Rock ‘N’ Roll Hall of Fame induction ceremony—was the nadir of Van Halen’s career, IMHO. If you really wanna hear how flat VH sounded by this time, check out their only official live album, 1992’s totally uninspired Right Here-Right Now. It’s too bad they never put out a live album during the DLR-era to document what a great live band Van Halen truly was.
Alice In Chains was one of the few Grunge bands that I actually liked from the ‘90s, but their performance on this night certainly did little to endear me to them. Singer Layne Staley stood motionless almost the entire time, slumped over his microphone moaning and muttering like Vito Corleone while basically phoning it in. AIC would do a little better the next time I saw them in 1996.
This was the seventh (and most likely final) Van Halen concert I ever attended, unless someone like ol’ Doc Emmett Brown perfects time travel with that flux capacitor thing. It turned out Tom and I would’ve been better served to make other plans that night, as we heard on the radio on the way home that across town at the ballpark, Bret Saberhagen pitched a no-hitter for the Royals against the White Sox and we missed it. D’oh!
SET LIST: Poundcake/Judgment Day/Spanked/Runaround/When It's Love/There's Only One Way To Rock/bass solo (Michael Anthony)/drum solo (Alex Van Halen)-including Sunday Afternoon In The Park/A.F.U. (Naturally Wired)/Panama/Why Can't This Be Love?/Finish What Ya Started/Eagles Fly (Sammy Hagar acoustic solo)/guitar solo (Eddie Van Halen)-including 316 and Eruption/Best Of Both Worlds/I Can't Drive 55/The Dream Is Over/In 'N' Out ENCORES: Jump/You Really Got Me/Top Of The World
57) Ozzy Osbourne/Slaughter/Ugly Kid Joe (Friday, June 26, 1992—Sandstone Amphitheater) Ticket price: $25.00
This turned out to be one of the stranger evenings I’ve ever had in terms of who I attended a concert with. Instead of my usual co-pilot, my good friend Tom, I took in the Ozzy show with a co-worker gal from my department at Boatmen’s Bank (I had to get a real job after the radio thing fizzled out), along with her husband, who also worked at the bank in another department. This wasn’t the first (or last) time I played the part of the proverbial third wheel—a role I hold great disdain for—but it was the first (and hopefully last) time I did so with a bickering couple.
The gal—whom I’ll call Linda—was a real sweetheart at work, but the guy—whom I’ll call Mark—was an arrogant dick, and I wasn’t particularly fond of him to begin with. Before the concert, we stopped off at their house after work and Mark was an even bigger dick at home than he ever was at work, especially toward Linda’s two kids from her first marriage. He was constantly yelling at them and ordering them around like R. Lee Ermey in Full Metal Jacket, all the while bitching and fussing with Linda too, and when we headed out in their Chevy Blazer, they were still pissing and moaning at each other. We got part of the way to the show when Mark realized he had a tire going flat, so we retreated to their house and saddled up my mighty ’87 T-Bird—the best damn car I ever owned—and once we got in my car, an amazing change occurred as Linda and Mark were suddenly civil to each other pretty much the rest of the night. It was like once I was in the driver's seat (literally), everything was peachy. Weird…
When we arrived, Ugly Kid Joe was midway through their set, and all I remember about it was their lead singer uttering the phrase “Suck my dick!” numerous times. Suck it yourself, asshole! They were all over the radio at the time with their staggering laughable remake of the late Harry Chapin’s “Cats In The Cradle”, which was akin to Guns ‘N’ Roses doing “Tie A Yellow Ribbon ‘Round The Old Oak Tree”. Crappy bands like UKJ made a good case for having Rock ‘N’ Roll music banned forever! Slaughter wasn’t much better, as they sounded like shit and really botched their big hit, “Fly To The Angels”.
Meantime, Brother Ozzy was touring in support of his best album in several years, 1991’s No More Tears, on what was supposedly his “No More Tours” tour—yeah, sure Ozz, whatever you say… The show opened with a video montage that covered Osbourne’s entire career dating back to Black Sabbath, which segued into the opening number “I Don’t Want To Change The World”, off the new album. The set list was loaded with stuff from No More Tears, but the title track was curiously omitted from this show. Ozzy made up for that by doing my favorite off that album, “Desire”, as well as big the hits from it, “Road To Nowhere” and “Mama, I’m Coming Home”. This was my also first in-concert look at guitarist Zakk Wylde, and while he was reminiscent of a young Ted Nugent in both his appearance and playing style, I preferred his predecessor Jake E. Lee’s guitar playing, overall. Wylde’s solos tended to be a tad too squealy and feedback-laden for my taste, while Lee’s style was a bit more fluid and melodic. Of course, both guitarists were unfairly overshadowed by the play of the late Randy Rhoads, rest his soul. Another late Randy—Castillo, this time—was quite good on the drums too, and proved to be a more-than-ample replacement for Tommy Aldridge, who had moved on to Whitesnake several years earlier.
As usual, the Sandstone sound system did the show in, and Ozzy's vocals were almost inaudible at times. But, he prowled the stage as he always does, and apart from one too many “let me see your hands” and “I can’t fucking hear you”s, the Ozz-Man was quite entertaining. He had some fun with the people in the first few rows by dumping buckets of water on them (as well as himself) throughout the show. For the most part, it was a slightly above-average concert, and at least Ozzy made me forget all about who I attended the show with for a couple hours…
SET LIST: I Don't Want To Change The World/Desire/Mr. Crowley/I Don't Know/Road To Nowhere/Flying High Again/guitar solo (Zakk Wylde)/Suicide Solution/Paranoid/Goodbye To Romance/Shot In The Dark/Miracle Man/drum solo (Randy Castillo)/War Pigs/Bark At The Moon ENCORES: Mama, I'm Comin' Home/Crazy Train
58) Toad The Wet Sprocket/Gin Blossoms (Saturday, October 31, 1992—Memorial Hall) Ticket price: $10.00
Officially known as Soldiers And Sailors Memorial Hall, this great old 3,000-seat Kansas City, KS concert venue was once home to our local version of All-Star Wrestling during the ‘60s and ‘70s. Featuring outstanding sightlines, Memorial Hall was also host to the first K.C. area performances by numerous Rock acts that went on to superstardom like Elton John, David Bowie and Styx—the latter two on the same night in 1972, I believe. According to local legend, Led Zeppelin was booed off the stage there in 1969, and they vowed never to return to Kansas City again (and they didn’t as a band, though Jimmy Page subsequently returned here with The Firm and Robert Plant has played here since then on solo tours). Kiss made their K.C. area debut there on April 13, 1975 on the Dressed To Kill tour, Ozzy Osbourne played his first gig here as a solo act in 1981, and parts of R.E.O. Speedwagon’s Live—You Get What You Play For were recorded at Memorial Hall on Halloween night, 1976 (including the closing song “Golden Country”). Memorial also made music history (sort of) as the site of Country legend Patsy Cline's final concert performance two days before her tragic 1963 plane crash in Tennessee. It’s been one of Kansas City’s more enduring and dependable concert venues, and even though MH is located in a bad part of town with virtually no off-street parking to speak of, I'm at a loss to explain why this concert 16 Halloweens after R.E.O. is the one and only time I’ve ever set foot in the place—methinks I might’ve missed out on a boatload of great concerts there all these years!
And even this concert wasn’t one I was terribly excited about attending, but my friend (and boss man at the time) Phil wanted to check out this hot new band Toad The Wet Sprocket that was getting a ton of radio airplay at the time, so he invited me and another colleague to tag along and I took him up on it since I didn’t have any better offers that night anyway. This was that period in the early ‘90s when a whole slew of bands like Toad, Gin Blossoms, Hootie & The Blowfish, et al, were suddenly all the rage, playing lightweight harmony-driven “College Rock”—and yet were just utterly forgettable! So utterly forgettable, in fact, that I retained virtually nothing in my memory about this concert, apart it being my first time at The Hall, as well as running into a cute co-worker girl in line at the concession stand who I had the hots for at the time but wasn’t interested in dating anyone—Holly, if you’re out there reading this, I still think we’d have made a great couple! Actually, I do remember that the Gin Blossoms outperformed their overrated headliners, prompting me to subsequently buy their debut CD. Bands like these seemed like a great idea at the time, but looking back now, I find them all to be incredibly dull. I would lump today’s perennial concert heroes the Dave Matthews Bland in that category too—Zzzzz…
59) Kiss/Great White/Trixter (Tuesday, November 10, 1992—St. Joseph Civic Arena) Ticket price: $20.50
It had been three and a half years since I left St. Joe and the radio station gig I had there. When I heard that Kiss was playing Civic Arena, my first instinct was to call my DJ buddy, who was still on the air at the station, and see if they had any extra tickets laying around, and all I got from him was, “Call back when we’re giving them away on the air…” Gee, thanks for nothing, ex-DJ buddy!
So, Tom and I shelled out the $20.50 for tickets and made the 50-mile trek up to St. Joe for our evening of entertainment. Our seats were most excellent in the 5,000-seat Civic Arena, and there were lots of cute babes in the crowd to bring pleasure to our roving eyes, so we had the makings of fun evening. Trixter opened promptly at 8:00 with a short and snappy set of only six songs, and they were fairly tolerable. Great White also played a short and snappy set of about 40 minutes, and they sounded particularly good on their big hits “Rock Me” and “Once Bitten, Twice Shy”.
Kiss hit the stage about 30 minutes later, and right away I could tell something wasn’t right. They opened with a very flat version of “Creatures Of The Night”, then reeled off three Gene Simmons songs in a row, and it was pretty evident that Paul Stanley wasn’t up to snuff because he did very little singing and looked very lethargic as he lumbered around the stage. Then I knew for sure something was wrong when Simmons attempted to sing lead on “Heaven’s On Fire”, during which Gene openly admitted, “I don’t know the fucking words to this!” and wound up ad-libbing a few lines. Eventually near the end of the show, Stanley finally fessed up that he had the flu and couldn’t sing. In an excerpt from the book Kiss Alive Forever-The Complete Touring History by Curt Gooch and Jeff Suhs, guitarist Bruce Kulick further elaborates: “…it was a total disaster. It was a short set, then Gene sang the songs an octave lower—the ones he thought he could pull off—it was terrible. There was really terrible weather, and obviously Paul was sick. We should have cancelled.”
Okay, I don’t remember anything about terrible weather that night (we wouldn’t have even tried to go, if it was that bad out) but I agree with Kulick that they should’ve rescheduled the show—this was like Dale, Jr. trying to drive his stock car on three wheels. Paul tried to bullshit his way through the gig, looking almost Springsteen-like at times, just standing still posing rather than playing, and his between-song stage raps were barely above a whisper. Even though Gene put in a valiant effort to save the day, and even though I do give Stanley kudos for being a real trouper and playing hurt, I would’ve had just as much respect for them if they’d postponed the show until Paul recovered, rather than putting on a half-assed show like this, in spite of Gene's rather humorous attempts to sing Paul's songs.
It’s a dirty shame Paul was sick too, because the stage and light show were impressive, the sound was excellent throughout, and the lazer show was a nice added touch to this well-produced show. Leon Sphinx from the Hot In The Shade tour had been replaced by a replica of the Statue Of Liberty, which at mid-show morphed into a silver skull and torch hand with middle finger extended skyward. This was my first live look at Eric Singer on the drums in place of the dearly-departed Eric Carr, and the boy from Cleveland was outstanding on the skins—nearly every bit as good as his late predecessor.
The set list included a couple old gems that Kiss hadn’t played since the ‘70s, namely “Watchin’ You” and “Parasite” from their second album Hotter Than Hell, but they curiously stuck the traditional closer “Rock And Roll All Nite” in the middle of the set, which made very little sense. They also played some new stuff off Revenge, including “Unholy” and "Domino” (both sung by Simmons), and “Take It Off”, a great Paul Stanley song that he had no business attempting to sing on this night. "Take It Off" was usually augmented by a phalanx of hot strippers prowling the stage, but not so in a podunk town like St. Joseph! Anyway, I’m pretty sure they would’ve done the best track from Revenge, “I Just Wanna” (Fuh!) had Stanley been in full voice, but there’s no way he could find his high range even with a compass and a road map that night. The show closed with a cool segue of “Love Gun” and “The Star-Spangled Banner”, the pyro from which left a lingering mushroom cloud of smoke throughout the low-ceilinged arena after the lights came back up. This show also marked the final time I would see Kiss in concert without make-up. Unlike most Kiss fans, I rather enjoyed the non-make-up era…
Kiss did wind up cancelling their gig the next night in Memphis while Stanley flew back to New York for treatment and the tour resumed in St. Louis a couple days later. I also believe there was a Kansas City gig planned for the Revenge tour, but it never happened because the tour was truncated due to low ticket sales and never completed. Too bad, because apart from Stanley’s illness, this was shaping up to be a great tour, and the band was playing really well. For a good taste of the Revenge tour (strippers included), you can check it out on the new Kissology-Vol. 3 DVD set, or the Kiss Konfidential video. And, if you can find a copy, there’s a really good bootleg double-CD out there called Unchained & Unmasked that was recorded a couple months before St. Joseph at the Meadowlands in Jersey that was almost better than their official live release from that tour, Kiss Alive III.
SET LIST: Creatures Of The Night/Deuce/Unholy/Parasite/Heaven's On Fire/Domino/ Watchin' You/Firehouse/I Want You/War Machine/Rock And Roll All Nite/Take It Off/Cold Gin/I Love It Loud/Detroit Rock City ENCORES: Shout It Out Loud/Love Gun/Star-Spangled Banner
60) Paul McCartney (Monday, May 31, 1993—Arrowhead Stadium) Ticket price: Free
Free Paul McCartney tickets, Gracie? That’s not a misprint! I wasn't even sure I’d be attending this concert until the morning of, when I got a call from Phil saying that our co-worker friend Nadine had managed to snag free tickets that one of the local radio stations was giving away on Friday, and did I want to go? Uhhh, does a hog love slop? A) It just happened to be Memorial Day and we had a family outing going on at my folks’ house that I dearly wanted to avoid, and B) I’d been wanting to attend the show anyway, but I was initially balking at the then-outrageous 30-some-old dollar ticket prices, and since you can beat free, I'll give you three guesses what I opted for…
Apparently the promoters over-estimated how many fannies McCartney could put in the Arrowhead Stadium seats, so there were tons of comp. tickets given away, and I was astounded that our free tickets were actually damn good seats in the lower bowl of Arrowhead about 2/3 of the way up in the corner on the stage left side, not far from where Tom and I sat for The Who in ’89. The crowd was by far the most diverse I’ve ever seen at a Rock concert—aging hippies, prissy yuppies, children who weren’t even old enough to remember Wings and all ages in between were in attendance. Nearly 15 years into my concert-going career, I was excited to finally see one of The Beatles live in person, and Big Macca did not disappoint.
Devoid of an opening act, this concert began just before dark just like the Ozzy show with a career-spanning video montage. The video got a tad too preachy with Paul's animal rights stuff at times, but it was quite good otherwise. The entire band rose up from behind the stage, then proceeded to kick the show into gear by opening with The Beatles’ “Drive My Car”. Get it—car/gear? Har-de-har-har… Anyway, the set list wound up being a nice cross-section of McCartney’s career, bouncing from Beatles to Wings to his new stuff from Off The Ground, which was about the last decent album he made, IMHO. The sound was a bit too bass-y, and not quite loud enough for me, but the light show was impressive—one of the better ones I’ve ever seen. The band—apart from that alleged "musician" Linda McCartney—was good and tight, with the stand-outs being ex-Pretenders guitarist Robbie McIntosh and former Haircut 100 drummer Blair Cunningham, whose late father, Carl, was the drummer in Otis Redding’s ill-fated backing band, the Bar-Kays. Linda managed to hold her own on the tambourine in best Tracy Partridge style, but that’s about it. I know Paul loved Linda to death, and I don’t mean to speak unkindly of the dearly-departed, but there were most definitely some musical integrity issues there...
McCartney and crew borrowed from Kiss and Motley Crue a bit with some pyro and a few stage contraptions, including lots of boom-booms during “Live And Let Die”, and a large mechanical ramp that lifted the entire band (minus drummer Cunningham) out over the audience down front during “Let Me Roll It”—a surprise and welcome inclusion to the set list. It also dawned on me that McCartney was more of a showman than I previously had given him credit for, as he was almost Elton John-ish at times. As one might expect, the Beatle tunes got the biggest response from the crowd, especially “Lady Madonna”, “Can’t Buy Me Love”, “Magical Mystery Tour” (my personal Beatle fave), “Paperback Writer”, “Sgt. Pepper”, “Kansas City/Hey Hey Hey Hey” (naturally) and the climactic closer, “Hey Jude”. His new stuff from Off The Ground was well-received too, including the title track, “Looking For Changes” and “Biker Like An Icon”. Regarding the latter song, I think Chandler Bing on “Friends” might’ve made the following remark: “Could that title BE any more contrived?!?” Even the brief “unplugged” set in the middle of the show was enjoyable, and probably a necessary evil to give the band a breather during such a lengthy concert. The only really glaring omission from the set list was “Jet” and perhaps “Silly Love Songs”, but thankfully, Paul spared us from the horror that was “Ebony And Ivory”...
All in all, this was an outstanding concert, and easily the best one I ever saw for free! It was the end of an era, too, in a way, as this was (to date) the last concert I ever attended at Arrowhead Stadium. About a year later, I was tickled to discover that four of the songs from this concert were included on McCartney’s Paul Is Live CD, thus marking the one and only time (that I know of, anyway) when a concert I attended was recorded (at least in part) for a live album. After missing opportunities to be at Kansas City shows that were used for live videos by Ozzy Osbourne and R.E.O. Speedwagon in the mid-'80s, it was nice finally be able to say, “I was there!” when listening to a CD. The songs that made it to Paul Is Live are noted with an * in the list below.
SET LIST: Drive My Car*/Coming Up/Looking For Changes*/Another Day/All My Loving/Let Me Roll It/Peace In The Neighborhood/Off The Ground/Can't Buy Me Love -------acoustic set---------Good Rockin' Tonight/We Can Work It Out/And I Love Her/Tonight/Be With You/Hope Of Deliverance/Michelle--------Biker Like An Icon/Here There And Everywhere/ Yesterday/My Love/Lady Madonna/Live And Let Die/Let It Be/Magical Mystery Tour/C'mon People*/The Long And Winding Road/Paperback Writer/Fixing A Hole ENCORES: Penny Lane/Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band-Reprise/Band On The Run/I Saw Her Standing There/Kansas City-Hey Hey Hey Hey*/Hey Jude
.38 Special was already on stage when we arrived, and they played a pretty decent set of hits. I was glad to see guitarist/singer Don Barnes back in the fold after having left the band during it’s “Second Chance” era—a song which they didn’t play that night, not-so-coincidentally. And they still had Donnie Van Zant singing an occasional song and pretending to play guitar now and then—I still don’t see what purpose he serves in this band, apart from lending it his legendary family name. Anyway, .38 sounded great during their set, which wrapped up with “Hold On Loosely”.
There are nights when Cheap Trick is the world’s greatest Rock ‘N’ Roll band, and there are also nights when they’re the worst. This night was in the latter category, as they played a very disappointing and short set of only 11 songs, and they looked very over-the-hill. Normally rail-thin, guitarist Rick Nielsen looked very pudgy as he stumbled around the stage, and none of the band acted like they gave a shit. Opening with a very flat version of their concert staple “Hello There”, they stuck to mostly mid-tempo stuff like “Speak Now Or Forever Hold Your Peace” and “Heaven Tonight“, which really bogged things down. The lone highlight was “Never Had A Lot To Lose”, but they looked and sounded like shit, overall. I guess a band that tours as incessantly as CT is bound to lay an egg some nights, but they were so much better when I saw them five years earlier at Sandstone.
Thankfully, R.E.O. saved the day by putting on a fairly energetic 90-minute set. It had been 11 years since we last saw Speedwagon in concert, and a couple changes had taken place, as drummer Alan Gratzer had retired and was replaced by Bryan Hitt (a man who spells his first name wrong), and former Sammy Hagar cohort Dave Amato took the departed Gary Richrath’s lead guitar spot, and was quite impressive. As expected, R.E.O. stuck to their big hits, avoiding the flop of an album they put out a couple years prior with the silly title The Earth, a Small Man, His Dog, and A Chicken. Apart from “Ridin’ The Storm Out” opening the show instead of closing it, I thought it was a fine set, and they even included a personal favorite, “157 Riverside Avenue”, which they omitted in ’82 at Arrowhead. Singer Kevin Cronin was especially animated on this night, and still seemed very enthusiastic about playing for the people, which is more than I could say for Cheap Trick.
As with Van Halen a couple years earlier, it seemed like I went to the proverbial Z.Z. Top concert well once too often. Of the seven times I saw them in concert, this was easily the worst show I’d seen Z.Z. Top do. All the right elements were still there for a great concert, but this was just a very disappointing show. First off, they were touring in support of a poor album (see my “Rock Bottom” post to view how much I hated Antenna), and it just seemed like they were going through the motions. The stage motif was a huge radio (a la the album cover), and it featured a large mechanical stairway/platform on stage right, which at one point lifted Billy Gibbons and Dusty Hill up and transplanted them to the rear of the stage, for no particular reason.
Ace and his boys hit the stage right around 11:00 and opened with “Detroit Rock City” with the Spaceman himself on vocals. Despite some crappy sound at times, this turned out to be a surprisingly good show. Ace did a fair amount of Kiss tunes along the way, including one I’d never heard live before, “Strange Ways” from Hotter Than Hell, as well as an all-time favorite of mine, “Parasite“. Of his solo tunes, “Breakout” was one of the show’s highlights, and in a classy move, Ace dedicated the song to the late Eric Carr (who co-wrote it) and added, “He was a great guy and we miss him…” The band (whose individual names escape me now) wasn’t too shabby, and I do remember the drummer was a real stand-out. Ace brought some of his toys with him, like his light-up “New York Groove” guitar, as well as his trademark smoke-belching model. Would have been an even better show if the Lone Star had a stage larger than a postage stamp—it seemed like Ace and his band were playing in a phone booth.
John Hiatt hit the stage as the sun was going down, opening by himself on the acoustic guitar on “Through Your Hands”. The rest of the band joined him for “Drive South”, a Country-tinged song that was also a hit for singer Kelly Willis. As I found out later, Hiatt likes to change musicians for each tour he does, and he always gives his backing band a new name for each tour (the Goners, Nashville Queens, etc.), so this time he was touring with the Guilty Dogs, thus explaining the plastic light-up fire hydrant in front of the drums. In that band was standout guitarist Michael Ward, and he woke the crowd up a couple times during songs like “Lovin’ A Hurricane”, “Something Wild”, both from Perfectly Good Guitar, as well as the title track itself. Hiatt immediately established a nice rapport with the crowd and had great stage presence—he was almost Bill Cosby-like with his facial expressions and mannerisms. Prior to playing his signature song “Thing Called Love”, John thanked singer Bonnie Raitt for “keeping fresh tires on the tour bus” via royalty checks from her hit version of it.
Browne came on about 9:30 and proceeded to reel off nothing but slow mushy love songs that were about as aimless as your average Edie Brickell record. He constantly fidgeted about with his shirt and some intrepid insect that was incessantly pestering him, and even though he maintained a dialogue between songs with the crowd, he sure didn’t have much stage presence, and seemed very disorganized. The crowd started getting restless after about 30 minutes, and after an hour, some people were fleeing for the exits—thus giving you an idea what a snoozer this show was. Browne finally got around to playing songs people wanted to hear, starting with the Eagles’ classic “Take It Easy” that he co-wrote, followed by “On The Boulevard” and “Doctor My Eyes”, but it was too little, too late to save this turkey of a show. He ended his set with “Running On Empty”, and even Tom and I gave up as Browne began playing “Loadout/Stay” for an encore. I hadn’t seen so many people walk out on a headliner like this before (or since). This spoke volumes for John Hiatt too, because I think about half that crowd came to see him instead of Jackson Browne. And hell, it was free, so I got my money’s worth, either way…
It took me 15 years of concert-going, but I finally bagged that one big fish which had eluded me that I dearly wanted to see in concert, the Rolling Stones. When the Stones played a two-night stay at Kemper Arena in ’81, we were shut-out for tickets in the mail-order lottery. When they played Arrowhead Stadium in ’89 on the Steel Wheels tour, I was unemployed and broke, so I was screwed then. This time, there were tickets a-plenty, and I didn’t mind the two-hour road trip to Columbia one bit. This concert actually would’ve most likely been staged in Kansas City proper, but this was the year that they righted an egregious wrong at Arrowhead by replacing the evil Astroturf with natural grass. It was still baseball season, so neither Kauffman Stadium or Busch Stadium in St. Louis were options, and the Ram Dome in St. Louis was still a year away from completion, thus the Stones met everyone halfway, so to speak, at the University of Missouri’s Faurot Field. Turned out to be a great move, as the home of the Tigers had excellent sightlines for a concert.
