Travelblog: The Great Nor'easter—Episode 3

My profounded apologies for the interruption in road trip coverage, dear friends.  As I rapidly discovered while I was on the road, it's hard to find the time to properly chronicle a vacation while one is STILL ON IT, therefore my posts ground to a halt. I also encountered issues with poor Internet connections at some of the hotels I stayed at, which made uploading my photos very slow or impossible at times.  I've been back home for over two weeks now, but a combination of fatigue, personal home projects and illness have prevented me from giving you the rest of the story, so over the next few days or so, I hope to finally catch up this whole sojourn, which by journey's end, made me feel like I'd just come off a concert tour. I can safely say, folks, that I'd make a lousy Rock star!

Now, where were we?...

GREAT SEAT, EH BUDDY?!?

Ah yes, I last left you at Fenway Park and the most enjoyable tour I took of it.  This photo was taken near the end of it in the Bob Uecker section as we got to sit in the ancient rock-hard original butt-buster wooden seats they have yet to replace that date back some 70-odd years.  Fenway is a trip within a trip, and I was glad to finally get to see it on the inside. Much to the chagrin of Red Sox Nation, however, their majestic tailspin at the end of season more or less began long about the time I set foot in Fenway Park, thus the Holland Curse was born...

PAVE PARADISE, PUT UP A PARKING LOT—LITERALLY!
You are looking at the site of the legendary Boston Garden.  Way to develop the site, there, Beantown!  As much as Boston likes to honor its rich history, this is the best y'all could come up with for the former home of the Bruins and Celtics?  True, there is a very cool Bobby Orr statue nearby just behind where I took this photo, but come on!  Center ice would've been about where the white trailer sits, only three stories higher, since the Gaaaaaden sat on top of a train station, as does the new joint nextdoor to the left.  I didn't have time to check out the New England Sports Museum housed inside the new arena, but it looks pretty cool.  Will catch it next time...

SIGN, SIGN, EVERYWHERE A SIGN
Here's something you don't get to see very often—the backside of the famed Citgo sign in Boston's Kenmore Square, two blocks from Fenway Park.  I never knew that Citgo actually stood for Cities Service, and one of their gas stations used to exist in the ground floor of the building the mighty sign resides on.  One of the cooler corporate logos of all-time, too.

DOWN IN THE TUNNEL TRYIN' TO MAKE IT PAY...
I love tunnels.  We don't have near enough of these here in the Midwest, which is one of the many reasons I love to travel back East because they're everywhere.  I made it a point while in Boston to check out the infamous Big Dig/Ted Williams Tunnel, and I was not disappointed.  What was only supposed to cost Mass. taxpayers $5 billion wound up costing them $17 billion, so I tried to chip in by paying the toll and riding through it--twice!  This tunnel actually comes in three parts under downtown Boston, with the third one being the coolest (eastbound, that is).  A mini-thrill ride for yours truly...

THANK YOU FOR SHOPPING AT BELICHICK'S
Last time I was in Foxboro, MA in 1994, it was just a bump in the road with an NFL stadium attached to it.  I think there was maybe a used car lot, a 7-Eleven and a podunk hotel along U.S. 1 back then, but it's a whole different world 17 years later, as they've managed to put the ugh in Foxboro(ugh) with the Gillette Stadium complex on the site where the original home of the New England Patriots, Schaefer/Sullivan/Foxboro Stadium once stood.  Don't get me wrong—the stadium itself is pretty cool, and one of the best in the NFL.  It's the ancillary (and unnecessary) pieces of the complex that made me throw up in my mouth a bit.

Pats owner Bob Kraft has seen fit to create a sports/entertainment/business/shopping mecca on the property (see diagram), and I found it all rather indigestible.  For my KC friends, the complex is very similar to the Legends clusterfuck by Kansas Speedway, complete with a shopping center, hotel, restaurants/bars (including the oversized and probably overpriced CBS Scene entertainment center), and even a breast health hospital.  The football/sports purist in me cringed at the sight of this garish site.  In a nutshell, any Pats fan (male or female) can stop off and grab that bustier and matching panties they've been so badly wanting at Victoria's Secret and/or get some fishing tackle at Bass Pro and get a mammogram at the hospital right on the way into the game!  What pissed me off most is from where I parked, I had to walk all the way AROUND the damn shopping center and overpriced hotel to get to the stadium for the soccer game I attended.  Oh, and the P-Men cater to the short-attention-span society as well--if you get too bored with the event you're attending, you can watch the Red Sox game on the big screen outside of CBS Scene.  While I do give the Patriots brownie points for their classy team Hall of Honor, I could do without the rest of this monument to corporate excess—it's just so un-football to me.

THERE ONCE WAS A FAUX GREEN MONSTER IN PAWTUCKET...

I thought this was kinda clever outside of McCoy Stadium in Pawtucket, RI, home of the Red Sox' triple-A farm team, the PawSox.  Gotta love where they put the Yankees in the standings...

  

Travelblog: The Great Noreaster—Episode 2

EAT AT TED'S  Seriously—eat at Ted's!  I highly encourage you to visit Ted's Hamburgers in Meriden, CT (or their other two locations in Connecticut) and check out their world famous steamed hamburgers, as seen on "Drive-Ins, Diners & Dives", "Man Vs. Food" and "Hamburger America", et al.  This photo is my actual dinner from last Friday evening, and it was outstanding.  The meat itself was tasty enough, but the gooey melted cheese totally made the burger.  It reminded me of the tangy cheese they put on my chicken burritos at Margarita's in K.C.

WE GOT TO GET OURSELVES BACK TO THE GAAAARDEN  The last time I saw the old Boston Garden scoreboard was in 1994 when it was still in use at the Bruins game I attended.  I'm pleased to report that it still exists and now hangs in the food court at the Watertown Mall, about four miles west of Fenway Park.  Not sure if it's still functional, but it's great that they preserved it.

HIT IT HERE!  Also during that 1994 excursion to Beantown, I got to see Fenway Park for the first time...from the outside.  This time, I actually got IN the place via the official Fenway Park tour, which was totally worth the low, low price of 12 Yankee (sorry, Sox fans) dollars.  I snapped this photo from the front row of the right field party deck seats just above Ted Williams' retired #9 on the facade.  The tour guides were almost as entertaining as the park itself, and I think I enjoyed this tour more than I would've enjoyed an actual game at the Fens, considering the high ticket prices and limited availability thereof.  I got to see more of the place this way anyhow...

Travelblog: The Great Nor'easter—Episode 1

Well, friends, I've been neglecting this blog far too long, but I now actually have something to yap about, my long-awaited East Coast invasion that has been years in the planning stage. 

GOOD THING I DIDN'T PAY FOR THE VIEW!  This excursion features a new wrinkle or two, not the least of which is my new laptop PC, which will allow me to post reports on my trip while in progress, as opposed to waiting until I get back home.  This trip also features better accomodations than I've been accustomed to in the past, as I've decided to splurge a little and not just do Motel 6 exclusively.  I currently am reporting to you from the Holiday Inn Express outside Cooperstown, NY, and the room I rented is quite nice.  The view from it, however, is not exactly scintillating...

This is day 3 of the trip, which has been a bit sluggish so far.  I had a rental car all lined up with Budget, but was rebuffed Tuesday when they informed me that I couldn't bring their precious vehicle into the state of New York because of some bullshit insurance law they have up here, thus I ended up taking my gas-guzzling Grand Marquis instead.  Nice going, Budget—you've permanently lost me as a customer.  Oh well, the Merc is holding up just fine so far, and the extra payload comes in handy with all the luggage I brought. 

Meantime, I was also late taking off the first two days, which put me a bit behind schedule, and today, I liked to never made it to Cooperstown thanks to Mother Nature and the road closures she's caused because of all the flooding in Pennsylvania and New York State.  Every creek, stream and river I crossed over around these parts today was more swollen than Charlie Sheen's head.  I was planning to do the baseball Hall of Fame this afternoon, but arrived long after it closed, so I'll visit first thing in the morning instead.  My planned visit tomorrow to the Woodstock museum in Bethel is going to have to wait until next week because I can't get there from here at the moment without being airlifted to it...

JUST PEACHY  This ballpark should look familiar to youse movie fanatics out there, as you're looking at the scene of one of the more famous film quotes in recent history, "There's no crying in baseball!" right in front of the 3rd base dugout.  I made it a special point to stop in to Huntingburg, Indiana (about 30 miles NE of Evansville) to see the home of the Rockford Peaches in A League Of Their Own, an ancient minor league ballpark that's still in use, as is Bosse Field in Evansville proper, which served as the Racine team's home park in the film.  Much of the original wooden grandstand remains here, as does the Peaches signage from the movie (see upper right in pic), which was filmed exactly 20 years ago this month.

THEIR OL' KENTUCKY HOME?  One of my favorite pastimes on these big road trips is sneaking into college football stadiums and snapping a few photos.  Yes, I know I'm trespassing when I do this, but I don't mean any harm and if you leave a gate open, I'm gonna go through it!  This would be the first SEC football playpen I've "stalked" so far, Commonwealth Stadium at the U. of Kentucky.  Nice looking joint--too bad they don't have a decent team to use it.  I also passed by Rupp Arena, but it's not much to look at on the outside, and it's named after a bigot anyway...

BUTTER?  NO—PARKETTE!  Also while in Lexington, I stopped in at my first "Drive-Ins, Diners & Dives" eatery on this trip, the legendary Parkette Drive-In.  Not really breaking any new ground, food-wise, but the burger and onion rings I devoured were quite tasty, and I love the way they kick it old-school there—a definite throwback to a "better vanished time", as the Rush song goes.

I also stopped at another DD&D place, Hillbilly Hot Dogs in Huntington, WV.  I wanted to check out their famed "Homewrecker" entree, but the damn thing was $17 and should have its on ZIP code, plus I'd just eaten at the Parkette two hours earlier, so I just sampled their Hill Billy Filly sandwich, which weren't too bad.  I loved the intentionally-trashy decor there, as well as their motto, "If we don't live up to your standards, then lower yours."

THEY WERE MARSHALL  My main objective in Huntington, was to pay a visit to Marshall University, home of the Thundering Herd (or "Thundering Turd", as I affectionately call them).  On the exterior of their stadium, they pay tribute to the fallen 1970 Thundering Herd football team who perished in a plane crash with this sculpture, and there's also a very classy memorial in the nearby cemetery.  Right about the time I was visiting that very memorial, the news broke about the plane carrying the Russian hockey team crashing into the Volga River, killing 43 people, including former St. Louis Blues star Pavel Demitra.  Very spooky coincidence, and in both instances, major tragedies.  Rest in peace, all...

OLD TIME HOCKEY!  EDDIE SHORE!  Let's end on a happier hockey note.  This would be the Cambria County War Memorial in Johnstown, PA, better known as the home of the Charlestown Chiefs in the 1977 classic Slap Shot, starring the late Paul Newman.  Tiny little arena, seating only 4,000 or so, but it's still in use, and was perfect for the film, which featured a half-assed minor league hockey team.  Much of the film was shot right in Johnstown, including the town square, which I passed by this morning on the way out of town, and it doesn't look like it's changed very much in 34 years.  My hotel was just two blocks away from the arena, but I didn't run into the Hanson Brothers, thank goodness...

The War Memorial was also the site of a fun footnote in the career of Kiss at their concert here in 1975.  For the first (and only) time in Kisstory, the band was joined on-stage by a fifth performer, Creem writer Jaan Uhelzski, for a one-off publicity piece.  Clad in a black leotard and tights, platform shoes (with her backstage pass affixed to one of the heels), Uhelzski wore a Kiss make-up design that was a composite of all four band members (just like on the back of the Hotter Than Hell album cover) and strapped on an unplugged guitar to mime playing along to "Rock And Roll All Nite" during the show's encore.  She chronicled her experience in the Creem feature I Was On-stage With Kiss In My Maidenform Bra in 1976.

Yeah, I'm sick of looking at Sammy too!

Thought I better post something just to get Hagar's mug off the front here. 

This blog is not dead, but I really haven't had anything new and compelling to write about lately, thus the inactivity.  I've been working on several personal projects that eat up most of my time these days, and the blog has been an unfortunate casualty of that. 

One of the projects I've been feverishly working on is my Kansas City Comets database, which I've had for years, but have been fleshing out and expanding this summer.  It's basically a summary of every game (over 500 of 'em) they ever played from 1981-91, and I've been spending a lot of time at UMKC library going through each box score from the old K.C. Star microfilms and getting all the pertinent info that I need.  My hope is to eventually turn this all into a website/tribute page to my favorite sports entity of all-time.  It's been tedious work, but I've enjoyed it thoroughly.

I'm hopeful there will be more good stuff to post this Fall, especially since I'll be vacationing a couple times in September and October, so I should be a little more active in the coming months here...

Green Eggs And Sam(my)

Another book read, another blog post.  It only took me the better part of a day and a half to rip through Sammy Hagar’s new otto-biography Red: My Uncensored Life in Rock.  That’s partly because I’d already read excerpts from it long before I bought it and mostly because it was a fairly entertaining read, even if I didn’t quite believe all of it.  I do give the Red Rocker credit—he holds back nothing here, but he’s no doubt burned a few bridges with this book, some of which were already on the verge of collapse anyway.  Suffice it to say that the Van Halen brothers don’t come off looking too good here at all. 

Oddly enough, the first thing I ever remember hearing from Hagar was his 1979 remake of Otis Redding’s “(Sittin’ On) The Dock Of The Bay” on the old KY-102 when I was 15 and gradually making my transition from FM Top 40 Pop to Album Rock radio.  He pretty much disowns that track in the book, saying it was a lame attempt by his then-manager to score a Top 40 hit.  Long about that same time, Sammy was the second act I ever saw at a major Rock concert, playing fourth on the bill at Arrowhead Stadium (right before The Cars, Heart and headliner Ted Nugent, and just after local favorites Missouri), and I remember being semi-impressed with his stage act.  After being dismissed from the band Montrose in a clash of egos (mostly Ronnie Montrose’s), Sammy built his fan base in a rather workmanlike manner in the late ‘70s, in spite of little-to-no support from radio or his label, Capitol Records.  Much like another Capitol act that preceded him years earlier, Grand Funk Railroad, Hagar’s early success was largely through word-of-mouth about his live performances, even though he had some pretty decent material, like “Red”, “Trans Am (Highway Wonderland)”, “Rock ‘N’ Roll Weekend”, “Plain Jane”, “Turn Up The Music” and a song called “I’ve Done Everything For You”, which you Rick Springfield fans (all four of you) might remember.  Hagar’s fortunes changed when he sacked his manager and jumped ship to Geffen Records, who realized his potential and promoted him much more avidly, thus resulting in a very respectable run of successful albums in the early ‘80s (Standing Hampton, Three Lock Box and V.O.A.), as well as a brief run in the (sort-of) supergroup Hagar/Schon/Aaronson/Shrieve.  By 1985, Hagar was wealthy enough (and burned-out enough) to quit the music business when his telephone rang and one Edward Van Halen was at the other end…

As for the book, I find myself picking and choosing which parts I actually believe and which parts I think he embellished, exaggerated or just plain made up.  Here’s a little rundown on my thoughts on stuff from the book (in no particular order):

—I was very surprised that there’s no mention whatsoever in Sammy’s book of his 1997 song, “Little White Lie”, which was a direct bazooka shot at Eddie and Alex Van Halen.

—Apart from Hagar cronies Bill Church (bass) and David Lauser (drums), Sammy barely spoke of his longtime touring band during his solo years, and never once mentioned his lead guitarist Gary Pihl, who is now with (what’s left of) Boston. Guess there weren’t too many juicy tales to tell from those days.

—I find it more than a little fucked-up that Hagar often cheated on his mentally-ill wife (whom he’d married very young) after he’d been on the road for a while.  Why do these musicians always insist on marrying some chick and having kids when they’re 20 and just starting out in their music career, knowing damn well how the Rock ‘N’ Roll lifestyle is counter-productive to marriage and family?

—Much of Hagar’s wrath in Red was aimed at VH manager Ray Danniels, whom he pretty much views as evil-incarnate.  Danniels replaced the late Ed Leffler, who was Sammy’s choice to manage Van Halen when he joined in 1985.  Leffler died of cancer while 1995’s flaccid Balance album was being completed, and Hagar clashed with his replacement (whom the VH brothers hand-picked to manage the group) almost immediately.  Danniels also manages Rush (the band, not the Big Fat Idiot), and being’s how those crazy Canucks seem to be such a well-oiled machine, it makes me wonder how bad a guy this Danniels truly is, thus making me question Hagar’s credibility a bit.  Then again, Rush is a totally different animal altogether, devoid of fragile egos, factions, personal vendettas/agendas and out-of-control alcoholics, thus fairly self-contained.

—I could’ve done without Sammy’s recurring bits about aliens supposedly contacting him from beyond.  Even if they really happened, I’m not into that stuff, sorry.  But if I ever do hear from Beldar Conehead on Remulac (sp?), I’ll let y’all know, mmm-kay?

—Sam spent a lot of time in his book going on about his Cabo Wabo cantina venture in Mexico.  Apparently the late John Entwistle was a regular visitor at Cabo in the years right before he died, and it was sad to read how he was rapidly declining.  According to Hagar, The Ox was extremely deaf by then, to the point where even hearing aids were of little use.  “He was pretty high most of the time,” Sammy writes. “John always had a drink and a cigarette in his hand…I’d try to get him to sing ‘Boris The Spider’, but he’d go, ‘Oh, man, I can’t sing.’”  This sounds very consistent with what Pete Townshend has said many times about John’s voice being “very dodgy” toward the end and that he clearly was not taking care of himself in his final years.  Same can be said for Stephen Stills, who was/is also a frequent flyer at Cabo Wabo.  I never much cared for the song “Cabo Wabo”, anyway…

—And then there was the infamous “Sam & Dave” tour fiasco with Diva Lee Roth in 2002.  I actually had a free ticket to that concert here at Sandstone Amphitheater but I passed on going to the show, mostly because I didn’t feel like driving the 60-mile round trip over to Bonner Springs and back.  Probably a wise move on my part—I heard the show really sucked, and Sammy’s narrative about that tour echoes the same sentiments.  As with pretty much every other piece I’ve ever read about Diamond Dave since he left Van Halen in 1985, he comes across as a total prima donna douche in Sam’s book.  Fuhgetaboudit, Dave…

—Hagar contradicts himself throughout the book, and I have to call bullshit on a couple of items.  For instance, while concluding the book by spouting off a bunch of hollow platitudes about life in general, he says:  “I don’t believe in killing people, inflicting your will on another person or trying to hurt them in any way.”  Then Sam, what’s up with lyrics like “Shoot them down to their graves, yeah!” from “V.O.A.”?  Come to think of it, Sammy often talked out of both sides of his mouth with his songwriting anyway.  First he sings, “I’ll Fall In Love Again”, then turns around with “I Don’t Need Love” (furthermore, “I’m just lookin’ for some sex, yeah!”), then comes back with “When It’s Love”, etc.  In another passage, he wrote:  “Drugs kill people.  People think drugs are what made Jimi Hendrix great.  No, drugs are what killed Jimi Hendrix.”  No argument from me on that statement, but then why’s it okey-dokey for Hagar to not only do cocaine himself, but provide some to his Cabo guests like Stephen Stills as well?!?  Mr. Pot, meet Mr. Kettle—you’re black!  In a similar vein, based Sammy’s own descriptions, his father was not unlike Sean Maguire’s “mean fuckin’ drunk” old man in the film Good Will Hunting, and things got so bad when Sammy was young that his mother would often evacuate herself and the kids from their own house when Daddy got home from a night at the bar.  Considering all the bad experiences between dealing with his dear ol’ Dad and the drunken Van Halen brothers all these years, I think it’s rather disingenuous of Hagar to market and promote alcohol, especially tequila, of all things.  It’s not like Sammy needs the money—he has several other successful outside business ventures in addition to his musical career, so we won’t be seeing him in the bread lines anytime soon.

Then again, Sammy Hagar has never been known as a Rhodes Scholar.  I once read in a 1980 concert review of his show at Memorial Hall in KCK (during the height of the Iran hostage crisis), someone in the crowd held up a huge sign that said, “Iranians Go Home”, which Hagar misread as “Trans Ams Go Home”, and he goes off on a 10-minute filibuster about his favorite automobile.  When Eddie and Sammy performed together in public for the first time ever at Farm Aid in 1985, Sam proceeds to introduce “I Can’t Drive 55” by saying, “Here’s a song for all you tractor-pulling motherfuckers,” which immediately got them yanked off the live TV feed.  At that Arrowhead gig I attended in ’79, between songs he was trying to say something to the crowd and suddenly bellowed, “Turn this fuckin’ mic on!!!” Uh, Sam, I think it’s on…

I don’t mean for this post to come off as a Hagar bash-fest because I actually do like Sammy.  I enjoy most of his music and he seems like a decent duck overall, and fairly level-headed (for a Rock star, anyway). I’ve always liked his upbeat attitude and he seems like a fun person to be around.  I’m amazed he remained with Van Halen as long as he did, considering how dysfunctional that band was even when Hagar first joined them—their problems and issues weren’t ALL Roth’s fault, as we were once led to believe.  Sammy certainly brought a MAJOR upgrade to Van Halen lyrics—I swear, many of Roth’s songs sound like he just made them up as he went along in the studio (“Jump” being the most heinous example) and it was Eddie’s guitar pyrotechnics that truly gave this band its substance.  I generally believe most of what Hagar wrote in his book about the Van Halen brothers is true, especially in light of the way Eddie and Alex have jerked us VH fans around the last 15 years with their Hagar/Roth/Cherone/Hagar again/Roth again lead singer carousel.  "We’d be rippin’ off our fans,” Little Hitler—er uh, Eddie—proclaimed in 1998 in discussing a potential reunion tour with Diva Lee.  Funny how he didn’t feel that way ten years later when he reunited with Roth anyway, just so he could finally take Junior on the road with him.  Okay, Ed, we get it—your dick worked once.  Now bring back Michael Anthony already, will ya…

Sammy accurately points out that Alex Van Halen was NEVER a creative force in the band, yet he always got a quarter share of the songwriting/publishing money, even though he has yet to write a single song for his own band.  Same could be said for Michael Anthony, but at least Mikey was always a good soldier for the band, never failing to answer the bell in concert, putting up with more bullshit from the Van Halens than he should have, and also providing his trademark high harmony vocals that were an integral part of the VH sound during both the Roth and Hagar eras.  I like Mike and really think he got a raw deal in the end when Eddie essentially humiliated him by kicking him to the curb and replacing him on bass with his son Wolfgang for their 2008 tour with Roth.  While Junior VH appears to be at least a serviceable bass player (he’s light years better than Sid Vicious, anyway), he’s not a very dynamic performer on stage and looks like he belongs in some lame slacker band.  Sorry, Wolfie—only Entwistle was allowed to stand still all night while he played, and you ain’t no Ox…

Getting back to Uncle Alex, I’ve always thought he was/is an average drummer, at best.  He’s no Neil Peart, that’s for sure, and unlike Peart, AVH’s massive drum kit was/is mostly for show—four bass drums, Gracie?  Come on.  Meantime, Alex is basically a lackey and enabler for his far more talented (yet sadly whacked-out) brother.  According to Hagar, during most of his tenure with the band, the Van Halen brothers drank like fish and smoked like dragons from dusk till dawn, especially while working in the studio, and if that’s true, it’s a wonder they were functional at all.  Hell, Eddie lost a third of his tongue to mouth cancer, and yet he STILL smokes cigarettes!!  Back in the day at one of the VH shows I attended, following Al’s slightly off-kilter drum solo, David Lee Roth proclaimed, “Let’s hear it for Alex Van Halen…and his drinking problem!”  It was funny in 1981.  30 years later, not so much…

As for Van Halen (the band), apart from maybe Guns ‘N’ Roses, I don’t think we’ve ever witnessed a front-line Rock band totally implode the way they have.  I saw VH four times in concert during the DLR era and they were white-hot on-stage each and every time.  I saw them three more times with Hagar, and they were pretty good then, too, in spite of losing their edge a bit.  To the best of my recollection, I did not touch one drop of alcohol at any of those shows (I abstained from drinking at concerts pretty much until the ‘90s), so I’m definitely not viewing these memories through a booze-tinted prism.  I even went back and re-watched their 1986 concert video “Live Without A Net” just to reassure myself that it was all real once upon a time.  Sure enough, Eddie was still Eddie in that video—he looked vibrant and healthy, was totally into his performance, interacted well with the rest of the band (not just his brother) and operated on his guitar like a neurosurgeon.  Unquestionably, Van Halen—with Roth or Hagar—was truly “the shit” back in the ‘80s.  Now they’re just shit.  How the mighty have fallen…

Evidently Sammy Hagar started to write a book like this (with another author) about ten years ago but halted the project in midstream.  Excerpts from that book made it to the ‘Net anyway, and they’re pretty consistent with what’s in Red.  The only difference is a lot of the unnecessary details and superfluous music business minutiae and has been eliminated in the new book.  Here’s a link to the excerpts.

My all-time (non-Van Halen) Sammy Hagar Top 10:
10) “Winner Takes It All” (1985)  Largely forgotten track Hagar did for Sly Stallone’s arm-wrestling saga Over The Top.  Sammy has contributed a boatload of songs to movie soundtracks over the years, including Footloose, The Rose, Heavy Metal and Twister (the latter with Van Halen).
9) “Three Lock Box”/“I Don’t Need Love” (1983) [Tie]  These two made nice bookends on the Three Lock Box album.
8) “Heavy Metal” (1981)  Unlike Don Felder’s “Heavy Metal” song from the Heavy Metal film soundtrack, Sammy’s actually lives up to its title.
7) “Two Sides Of Love” (1984)  This one had all the makings of a big hit single, but wasn’t, for some reason. I always liked it, tho…
6) “Privacy” (1987)  Loved the bass line on this one, provided by Edward Van Halen.  One of the better tracks off that album Hagar let some MTV contestant re-title I Never Said Goodbye.
5) “Bad Motor Scooter” [Montrose] (1973)  Ronnie Montrose was a total Melvin to let Hagar ever get away from him.  But, Ronnie suffered from that all-too-common affliction, Nugent Syndrome, where a fine lead guitarist can’t bear to share the spotlight with a talented and/or good-looking lead singer.  I don’t see where Montrose (the band) accomplished a whole lot after Sam went solo.  Meantime, BMS is one bad jam…
4) “Missing You” [HSAS] (1984)  Not to be confused with the hit song John Waite had out at the same time with the same title.  According to Sammy in the book, Schon, Shrieve and Aaronson were nice to work with, but they never totally jelled together as a unit, thus the alliance was short-lived.  If you didn’t know any better, you’d think this was just another Hagar solo track, and it’s a pretty good one.  Surprising that it wasn’t a bigger hit, considering Journey’s gi-normous popularity at the time.
3) “I Can’t Drive 55” (1984)  Should be re-titled “I Can’t Drive 65”. The video for this one was funny in places too.
2) “There’s Only One Way To Rock” (1981)  This is the one that made me really sit up and take notice of Sammy Hagar when it came out.  Excellent album and concert lead-off hitter too, especially when Sammy hooked up with Eddie Van Halen in their dueling guitar solo bits in concert.  It was lifted from the album Standing Hampton, whose title is a British euphemism for "hard-on".  I'd much rather have a Standing Hampton than a Little Hampton...
1) “V.O.A.” (1984)  I love this middle-finger pointed directly at the Middle East and Soviet Union, even though it’s terribly dated now and no longer relevant in the case of the latter.  In ‘84, I actually believed the line “You in the Middle East—be on your toes/We’re bound to strike, everybody’s knows” and that the U.S. could resolve a major conflict in one fell swoop.  But, as history in the last ten years has taught us, it don’t quite work that way.  Ditto goes for the line “We think as one—there’s no contest.”  Still a cool song, anyway…

Travelblog, St. Louis

“You ain’t seen nothin’, ‘til you been in a motel, baby, like a Holiday Inn.”—E. John/B. Taupin, “Holiday Inn”, 1971

In all my years of traveling, I’ve always wanted to stay at a Holiday Inn, but for whatever reason, I never had until this past weekend.  I usually just Motel 6 it on my road trips, or occasionally upgrade to Red Roof Inn now and then.  My original plan was to stay at the Red Roof along I-44 in St. Louis near “The Hill” (more about that below) for $75 a night, but I waited a day before booking that rate, and during that time, the rate suddenly shot up $14 a night for the same freakin’ room!  That’s when I decided to give myself a late birthday present by splurging a little and booking the Holiday Inn right next door to Red Roof for $110 a night instead, and it was totally worth it because the accommodations were outstanding.  My room came with a terrific panoramic view from the balcony of the surrounding area to the north and east of I-44, including the former site of the old St. Louis Arena (which once dominated the horizon straight above the highway billboard sign in the foreground in this pic), and I merely needed to lean over the balcony and look to my right to see downtown and the Arch.  Meanwhile at Red Roof, I would’ve had an enthralling view of the Public Storage facility next door (and no balcony).  In addition, I got free Internet access in the lobby and two free breakfasts out of the deal, as well as a killer LG plasma TV in the room with 80 channels.  My only two real complaints were the elevators (too slow and not enough of them for a building that size) and the hotel bar—closing time @ 10PM on a Saturday?  Ditto goes for the Dirt Cheap liquor store just across the parking lot.  Seriously, people?!?  I bet even Amish bars are open later than that…

ARTY-FARTY!

On my way to those free breakfasts at HI, I passed by this wall just off the lobby, which is evidently someone’s ersatz tribute to Shredded Wheat!  A Lucky Charms display might have livened the place up a bit more…

“THIS USED TO BE A PLAYGROUND…”

And here be 5700 Oakland Avenue, the above-mentioned former site of St. Louis Arena, which I paid tribute to in a 2007 post here.  My friends and I spent several nights there doing Blues hockey and Steamers soccer games in the late ‘80s and early ‘90s, and it was my favorite old-school sports venue outside of K.C.  Located just across I-64/U.S. 40 from Forest Park, it now houses a semi-bland mixed-use complex comprised of office buildings, retail outlets, loft apartments and a Hampton Inn hotel.  The Arena used to sit in a bit of a hole, but they’ve since raised the ground level so it slopes up north toward Oakland Avenue, where I snapped the current photo.  I also didn’t realize it until I drove through the place that they actually built the whole development around the original footprint of The Arena itself, leaving a nice green common ground in the middle, thus you can walk your dog and let him/her poop right where center ice once was!  They’ve also placed a nice fountain dedicated to organ donors and transplant recipients approximately where the back wall of the old building was situated.  That’s all fine and dandy, but unless I missed something, there’s no plaque, no Blue Note, no historical marker, no nothing on the site to commemorate the “Old Barn”—and that’s just plain wrong!  The only hint of its existence anywhere nearby is the Arena Liquor store around the corner on Hampton Avenue.  Rather surprising too, considering how much the city of St. Louis usually reveres and honors its rich history. Let’s get on the ball (and/or puck, in this case), St. Lou!

CAN YOGI COME OUT AND PLAY?

Barely a mile south of The Arena is the locality in St. Louis known as “The Hill” (or “Dago Hill” before it became politically incorrect), an area heavily populated by those of Italian descent.  I’d heard of The Hill for many years, but never knew where it was located until recently, and I feel like a real dolt now, because for years I’ve driven up and down Hampton Avenue (the western boundary of The Hill) and never knew I’d been passing right by it all that time—there’s definitely A hill going up Hampton, but I never realized it was THE Hill!  Anyway, you’re looking at the boyhood home of one Lawrence Peter Berra, Hall of Fame catcher and King of the Malapropism.  It’s only natural that he and fellow catcher/character Joe Garagiola would become such lifelong close friends, because they literally lived right across Elizabeth Street from each other (I was standing in front of Joe's place when I snapped this photo).  Liz Street was also home to one other rather famous St. Louisan…

WHERE’S THAT JOE BUCK?!?

Down at the east end of that same block on Elizabeth Street resided one Jack Buck, legendary Cardinals play-by-play man, in this classy little brick abode.  I’m assuming this is the boyhood home of current Fox Sports announcer Joe Buck as well.  What’s so cool about The Hill is even though most of its homes are over 90 years old, not a one of them is run-down, and it’s a very clean and safe area for being in the inner-city.  That’s a whole different story north of downtown and east of the river, but the south central part of St. Louis is very quaint and fun to roam around in.  This little tour turned out to be a fun and educational gambit, and it didn’t cost me a freakin’ dime…

Meantime, I’m still doing my A-Z by song title thing on my iPod (which I started in March!) and I’m up to the W’s, so it was perfect timing that it tracked through all the “Walking” songs (“Walking In L.A.”, “Walking On Sunshine”, “Walking Down Your Street”, “Walking To New Orleans”, etc.) as I hoofed it through the streets of The Hill.  Synchronicity personified…

“I DON’T TRUST NOTHIN’ BUT THE MISSISSIPPI RIVER”

If you won’t come to this river, then by dingies, this river will come to YOU!  With all the recent heavy rains upstream along the Mighty Mississip, it’s overflowing just a skosh along the St. Louis riverfront.  It’s not an unusual occurrence for the road in front of the Gateway Arch to be under water, but the scary part for me is this ain’t nothing compared to 1993 when the water reached up to the steps leading to the Arch.  I would’ve been completely submerged in the spot where I stood to snap this pic at the foot of the famed Eads Bridge.  Meanwhile, as I took this photo, my ever-prescient iPod—with no assistance from me whatsoever—kicked in with Bob Dylan’s “Watching The River Flow.” I swear, friends, I’m NOT making that up!

YOU’LL FIND YOUR THRILL…

…or you’re bound to, anyway, at Blueberry Hill, a nifty bar/restaurant/nightclub in the Delmar Loop entertainment district in west central St. Louis, yet another St. Louis “Hill” I was blissfully unaware of until now.  It’s worth the visit just for their food alone, but the coolest part of BH is all the music and pop culture memorabilia they have on display throughout the place, which literally takes up its entire city block.  They have a little of everything—Beatles collectibles (stuffed dolls, lunch boxes, etc.), old-school Pez dispensers, “Simpsons”/“Scooby-Doo”/“Star Trek”/“Star Wars” figurines, sports stuff and a dandy tribute to St. Louis native Chuck Berry, who STILL performs there once a month.  Joe Edwards, the dude who runs the place, apparently knows all the stars, as well, and several walls at Blueberry Hill are covered with photos he had taken with them, everyone from Tina Turner to Barack Obama to Stan “The Man” Musial to Motorhead!

Mr. Edwards also took a page out of the Hollywood playbook by founding the St. Louis Walk Of Fame, which Blueberry Hill resides along.  Unlike the Hollywood WOF, which merely lists the name of the honoree, each sidewalk star in the St. Louie version is accompanied by a brief bio, as they honor numerous famous St. Louisans.  In addition to entertainers, people from other realms like sports, local history, architecture, the arts and culture are included as well.  This was also quite educational for me—for example, I wasn’t aware that actor Robert Duvall was from St. Louis until I saw his star on the Walk.  But just as with the Hollywood WOF, I have issues with some of the more questionable inductees, Cedric The Entertainer?!?  Riiiiiiight.  And there’s something warped about placing the likes of Nelly right next to Scott Joplin, but beyond that, the STLWOF is quite boffo, and Kansas City needs one of these—it would slot in perfectly in the new Power & Light District.

EAST ST. LOUIS, TOODLE-EWWW!

East St. Louis, Illinois doesn’t get its bad reputation for nothing, as evidenced by this crumbling edifice—one good windstorm could probably knock this whole damn thing over.  It would be an appropriate venue for G. Carlin's "St. Louis Home For The Totally Fucked".  Apart from Gary, Indiana, I don’t think I’ve ever seen an uglier and more dilapidated shithole of a town than ESL, which I cruised through on board the Metrolink commuter train.  Just for kicks, I rode the entire length of the route, which extends eastward way the fuck over into Illinois to its terminus at Scott Air Force Base near the town of Shiloh.  You get to view a little of everything on Metrolink—suburbia, office parks, freeways, tunnels, major sports venues, downtown/riverfront splendor, storm sewers, ghettos and cornfields.  Great way to get around the city, too—it hits many of the major attractions in St. Louis, or at least gets you within walking distance of them.

NOT PICTURED HERE
Does anyone know the average number of beers announcer Mike Shannon goes through during a typical Cardinals game broadcast?  I listened to parts of all three games this weekend with the Royals, and he sounded pretty incoherent most of the time…

I paid my first visit to Lumiere Place casino at Laclede’s Landing this weekend.  For all the hype and hoopla about Lumiere, I was pretty unimpressed.  Gaudy décor (for a casino, anyway), unattractive cocktail waitresses, bland-looking sports bar and an overpriced dinner buffet (which I passed on).  Meh—I’ll stick with Harrah’s and Ameristar…

Why are there Gulf Oil logos on the outfield wall at Busch Stadium?  There ain’t a Gulf station within three states of St. Louis, is there?

The mighty K-SHE 95 never fails to play some cool old song I’ve never heard before on their Sunday morning lost classics show whenever I’m in town.  This time it was 10CC’s “Rubber Bullets” from 1973.  I must take a few points off K-SHE, however, because of the 20-something chick DJ in the afternoon who was yapping about a new Jimi Hendrix DVD set that will feature his appearance on the “Dick Cavett Show” back in the day.  Instead of ‘CAV-ut’, DJ chick pronounced Dick’s surname ‘Cuh-VETT’.  Fail!

We Want The Funk!

"You kids don't know Grand Funk?  The wild shirtless lyrics of Mark Farner?  The bong-rattling bass of Mel Schacher?  The competent drumwork of Don Brewer?  Oh, man!"—H.J. Simpson, 1996

Homer, my good friend, Mr. Brewer’s drumming was WAY more than competent.  And he once sported the greatest white-man afro of all-time…

I haven’t done a band tribute in ages here, but since I recently read Billy James’ biography An American Band-The Story of Grand Funk Railroad, now’s as good a time as any.  James was/is a longtime fan of the band and sought to get their story told, and overall, he did a pretty fair job in chronicling their history.  One downside to the book is it was published in 1999, so it doesn’t cover the more recent history of GFR, which includes guitarist Mark Farner’s (apparently acrimonious) departure and subsequent replacement by former Kiss axe-man Bruce Kulick on guitar and vocalist Max Carl, who once was ever-so-briefly the lead singer for .38 Special in the late ‘80s.  The other downside is how Mr. James is a tad biased!  At times he puffed up the band to be way better than they really were!  And his overuse of exclamation points where they weren’t appropriate throughout the book was more than a little annoying!  (Sorry, couldn’t resist…)

The first Grand Funk song I ever recall hearing on the radio was “Footstompin’ Music” in 1972, which I thought was pretty cool, but the one that made me a fan for life was “We’re An American Band” the following summer.  Even though I was only nine and didn’t know what a Chiquita from Omaha was (let alone who Sweet Sweet Connie or Freddie King were), I fell in love with that song from the get-go, from the cowbell intro to Farner’s opening riff to Craig Frost’s rhythmic organ figure to Mel Schacher’s rumbling bass to Don Brewer’s powerful lead vocals.  GFR churned out plenty more hits over the next couple years and sounded great even on AM Top 40 radio.  They were also one of the hottest concert attractions of the ‘70s, breaking house records at numerous venues and even selling out New York’s Shea Stadium in 1972 for the first time since The Beatles played there in ‘65.  The band’s success was all the more impressive because early on they got virtually no support from the press or Rock radio—it was all pretty much via word-of-mouth that the Funk built up its extremely loyal fan base.  The band’s success also confounded and rankled music critics no end—in particular the elitist know-it-alls at Rolling Stone—and the Railroad was often the target of unfair and biased (not to mention scathing) album and concert reviews.

For the longest time, I never understood why the critics loathed this band so much.  However, after reading all about it, so to speak, and recently pirating their early CDs from the library and giving them a good long listening-to, I can now kinda see why they had issues with Grand Funk—to a point, anyway.  Apart from the majestic 10-minute opus that was “I’m Your Captain/Closer To Home” in 1970, the bulk of Grand Funk’s output from their first four studio albums (On Time, Grand Funk, Closer To Home and Survival), sounded rather sloppy and amateur-ish to me.  I struggle with a lot of GFR’s early stuff just as much as the critics did—I just don’t groove to their long, mopey “My-baby-done-left-me” bluesy jams like “Heartbreaker”, “Paranoid” (not to be confused with the Black Sabbath classic of the same name), “Mean Mistreater”, et al.  The Book Of Rock Lists once ranked Grand Funk’s first live album (the cleverly-titled Live Album) as one of the Worst Live Albums of All-time, and for good reason—it was just a travesty of noise.  Control-freak producer/money-laundering-schmuck manager Terry Knight’s constant hyping of the band didn’t exactly endear them to the Rock press either, thus their understandable disdain for the group.  More on moron Knight later…

Having said all that, however, it’s no small coincidence that Grand Funk Railroad’s records improved immensely after they fired Knight in ’72 and began working with more experienced and dynamic producers like Todd Rundgren, Jimmy Ienner and Frank Zappa (yes, THAT Frank Zappa).  They went for a cleaner and more commercial sound with shorter tracks, added old friend Craig Frost on keyboards to give more color to their music and Mark Farner reigned in his voice a bit and actually sang instead of half-shouting/half-singing like on the early records.  Drummer Don Brewer also became more prominent by writing and/or singing lead on more songs than before, most notably on hit singles like “American Band”, “Shinin’ On” and “Some Kind Of Wonderful” (trading off with Farner on the latter), and frankly, I think his voice is far more interesting and superior than Farner’s anyway.  But, by the time GFR’s albums became more polished and sophisticated, the critics had all pretty much closed their minds to anything GFR put out, regardless of its quality, thus the unjustified critical flogging continued unabated until the band broke up in 1977.  No doubt those critics mourned the loss of their “whipping-band” back then in much the same way stand-up comedians were crying in their beer when the Dubya Administration ended.

Another facet of the band that may have rubbed the critics the wrong way was how Knight tried to spin Grand Funk Railroad as the new “spokesmen for America’s youth” as soon as the band hit the big-time, not to mention Farner’s outspoken political views, especially about protecting the environment, energy conservation, religion, et al.  While he’s certainly entitled to say/do what he wants, I get so turned-off when people in the entertainment industry—especially Rock musicians—go on these “save-the-world” crusades simply because they suddenly have everyone’s attention.  This same pretentiousness/ arrogance turned me off to people like U2, Jackson Browne, Neil Young and Don Henley (and even John Lennon, to a certain extent) for many many years.  Sorry dudes, but you’re STILL just a Rock band/musician, and you’re naïve as hell if you think you’re going to change the world just because you have a microphone and/or a guitar in your hand.  I don’t listen to music or attend concerts to hear some lecture/guilt trip about “stryofoam boxes for the ozone layer” or my fossil fuel-burning vehicle polluting the air, etc., and to be brutally honest, I don’t really give a rip about the rain forests, either.  Sorry, Sting...

In spite of their on-going popularity, by our country’s Bicentennial, the “American Band”, ironically was running on fumes.  Basically, they’d had it all/done it all by the Summer of ’76, and everyone in the group was pretty well burned-out, especially Farner.  Perfectly understandable, though—almost constant touring and producing 11 studio albums and two live albums in roughly 6.5 years would do that to most any band, and Grand Funk quietly ceased to be in 1977 after releasing just one album for MCA.  Messers. Frost, Brewer and Schacher (pronounced ‘shocker’) tried forming another band called Flint (as in their hometown in Michigan) in the late ‘70s, but little came of that venture.  Craig Frost subsequently joined Bob Seger’s Silver Bullet Band in the ‘80s, as did Don Brewer for a brief time (that’s DB playing on Seger’s live take on CCR’s “Fortunate Son” on the Like A Rock album).  A Grand Funk reunion (without Schacher or Frost) in the early ‘80s was a monumental flop and another one (with Schacher, but still without Frost) in 1996 was a semi-success, resulting in a benefit live recording called Bosnia, and a VH-1 “Behind The Music” appearance in 1999, but evidently the renewed good will didn’t last long amongst Mark, Don and Mel, and Farner returned to his farming/environmentalist/American Indian concerns and Christian music career while Don and Mel carried on with the aforementioned Kulick and Carl (and keyboardist Tim Cashion) as the current touring version of Grand Funk Railroad.

Oh yes, this Terry Knight character, aka Richard Terence Knapp.  Grand Funk Railroad history actually began in the late ‘60s as Terry Knight & The Pack, which included Farner and Brewer at various times, and gained a regional following in the Michigan-Ohio area in particular. TK&TP recorded a few minor hit singles, including “I (Who Have Nothing)” on the Cameo-Parkway label in its dying days, where they were label-mates of one young Bob Seger, as well.  Knight couldn’t carry a tune with a handle, so he got more into the production side of the music business, working with acts like ? And The Mysterians, whose latter-day touring band included Mel Schacher, whom Farner and Brewer snapped up in a heartbeat when they searched for a bass player.  After getting Grand Funk Railroad rolling down the tracks, Knight also produced their rather infamous Capitol label-mates Bloodrock, whose 1971 post-plane crash death dirge “D.O.A.” is a macabre classic of its own kind.  TK also found he was well-suited to work the business side of music as well—a little too well, one might say.  And what a charming gentleman he seemed to be, based on his interview bytes on “BTM” and unrepentant attitude about his management practices with GFR, saying:  “The media have always looked at Terry Knight as wearing the black hat.  That doesn’t bother me as long as I can wear the black hat to the bank every week.”  In reality, he swindled the band out of millions of dollars between 1969-72, and screwed them over in some investment deals as well.  When he was fired by the band in 1972 once they realized how much he was skimming from the top, Knight showed his true colors by morphing into a litigation whore, suing Mark, Don and Mel left and right for every little transgression.  Then he pissed away all the money he made off GFR on drugs, booze and women.  On top of that, his musical acumen was limited at best, hence the often sparse production values on the early Grand Funk albums.  Terry Knight was murdered in 2004 while trying to defend his daughter from a knife attack by her estranged boyfriend.  Apparently he at least still had SOME chivalry left in him, but he came across to me as a real asshole.

MY ALL-TIME GRAND FUNK TOP 10:
10) Gimme Shelter (1971)  Serviceable remake of the Stones’ classic from a couple years before and one of Don Brewer’s first lead vocals with GFR.  The track would’ve sounded better without Knight’s pedestrian watered-down productions, especially the drums, which sound really timid here.
9) Pass It Around (1976)  Wonderful track that I recently discovered off the Good Singin’, Good Playin’ album, on which they worked with Mr. Zappa.  What a pleasant surprise this record was—it certainly lived up to its title, but was totally overlooked by both radio and critics alike, and this sadly was more or less the end of the line for the Railroad (pun intended).  “Pass It Around” features great vocals from Brewer, and I love the overall attitude and feel of it, thus it went straight to my iPod after one listen.  For a band that was supposedly in total burnout mode at the time, they sure sounded rejuvenated here.
8) Rock ‘N’ Roll Soul (1973)  Great song in spite of lame lyrics like “It’s kinda funky like an old-time movie…”  Are old-time movies really all that funky?
7) Bad Time (1975)  This one might have been a tad too Pop-sounding for hardcore Funk fans, but I always liked it.  Mark Farner’s vocals had really matured by this point and he sounded so much better here than he did on the early records.  No one realized it at the time, but this was GFR’s final sniff of the Top 40.
6) The Loco-Motion (1974)  GFR took a bit of a chance by doing this one, and some die-hard fans did look upon them as sellouts, but you can’t argue with success.  Grand Funk managed to cover this song and make it their own without sounding schmaltzy.
5) Shinin’ On (1974)  Lots of echo here, and a very underrated track. Don Brewer’s growing confidence as a vocalist is quite evident too.
4) Footstompin’ Music (1972)  Craig Frost’s recorded debut with Grand Funk, “Footstompin’” actually started off as just a jam and morphed into a hit single.  I was always partial to the “Does ev-ar-ee-body want to?” part.
3) Walk Like A Man (1974)  The ONLY Top 40 song I can think of with the word “cock” in it!  I truly hope Don Brewer lives another 36 years so we can see if he still truly can “strut like a cock” until he's 99.
2) Some Kind Of Wonderful (1975)  Have to admit I got kinda burned-out on this one for a while because it got played to death on Classic Rock radio, but it’s still a great track.  I always like exaggerating the high-pitched “My baby!  My baby!” bits while singing along with Farner during the “Can I get a witness?” section.
1) We’re An American Band (1973)/I’m Your Captain/Closer To Home (1970) [Tie]  I can’t choose between these two, so it’s a flat-footed tie.  These two are such favorites of mine that they’d both easily land in the higher reaches of my Top 100 Songs of All-Time list, if I ever get around to compiling them.  I already discussed “American Band” above—Rock ‘N’ Roll 101, without question. As for “Captain”/”Home”, oddly enough, I didn’t really discover this absolute masterpiece until the early ‘80s, but I want this sucker played at my funeral—if I actually DO die, that is!

Concert #110

The Rainmakers/The SnotRockets (Saturday, May 14, 2011—Knuckleheads)  Ticket price: $15.00

I wasn’t real sure what to expect heading into my fourth concert encounter with Kansas City’s most successful Rock ‘N’ Roll band ever, the mighty Rainmakers.  It had been 13 years since I last saw them perform, which is almost as long as they’ve been inactive.  The band has reunited this year (sort of) to celebrate the 25th anniversary of their 1986 debut album on PolyGram, The Rainmakers, by releasing a new CD entitled 25 On.  I was a late-bloomer as Rainmakers fans go, not really getting into their repertoire until the early/mid-‘90s after they'd broken up.  Not sure where my head was at in the late ‘80s when they were regularly packing the Uptown Theater and/or Parody Hall, receiving regular airplay on the old KY-102, and getting to “play the gee-tar on the MTV” now and then via their videos and even developing a rabid following in Scandinavia, of all places (hence the title of their live album, Oslo-Wichita).  Hell, the Swedish Chef probably caught them in concert before I ever did, and I’ll plead total ignorance for missing out on their original heyday!  To wit (to what?), I never got to see the original linuep of lead guitarist Steve Phillips, singer/leader/rhythm guitarist Bob Walkenhorst, bassist Rich Ruth (originally known as the trio Steve, Bob & Rich) and drummer Pat Tomek—play in concert.

And oddly enough, I STILL haven’t!  When I saw them play on those three previous occasions circa., 1997-98, Ruth had departed to Nashville to pursue other musical avenues, and was replaced by Michael Bliss for their 1997 CD Skin.  Well, now RR’s back, but Phillips could not participate this time because of commitments with his current outfit, a Celtic-Rock band called the Elders. D’oh!! Guitarist Jeff Porter fills his spot now.

The boys got right down to bidness Saturday night by reeling off “Rockin’ At The T-Dance” , “Downstream” and “Let My People Go-Go” in succession, and I thought to myself, “Man, they’re knocking out the biggies early tonight.”  Two songs later, my night was totally made when they whipped out “Big Fat Blonde”, a song I never expected to hear.  Although “BFB” is a big fat fan favorite, Walkenhorst had sworn off playing it live and has expressed regrets in recent years for writing it, citing how its sexist overtones now clash with his current pro-woman sensibilities.  I've never taken its lyrics seriously anyway, in much the same way no one really takes Queen's "Tie Your Mother Down" seriously.  Nobody's tying any mothers down, and by extension, there ain't that many guys clamoring for the Anna Nicole Smiths of the world—It’s just a damn funny song to me, and the crowd went bonkers doing the “Sooo-weee!” bits.  Check out the youngstas in this here video performing the song back in the day.  Anyway, it took me a while to realize they were playing the first album in its entirety in original track sequence to begin the show, and following the closer track "Information" , Walkenhorst thanked everyone for “letting it be part of the soundtrack of your lives.”

Next up, they test-drove some songs from 25 On, which I have yet to get a hold of, but I sure liked what I heard from it, especially “Half A Horse Apiece”.  The second and third albums—Tornado and The Good News And The Bad News, respectively—were then finally visited, including two of my Rainmakers favorites, “The Wages Of Sin” and “Reckoning Day”, with the latter featuring the repeated refrain, “Get outta my way!”, which came in rather handy as I emerged from the restroom and made my way back through the crowd to my seat!  The only real glaring omissions from the set list were “Tornado Of Love”, “Snakedance” and “I Talk With My Hands” (all off Tornado), but the surprise inclusions of “The Width Of A Line” and “Another Guitar” from 1994’s Flirting With The Universe made up for them.  Much to my astonishment, Skin was the only Rainmakers album that they ignored altogether.  A time-honored Rainmakers tradition also continued—during their encores these guys love to tackle a couple AM Top 40 golden oldies (often welded together with “Drinkin’ On The Job”).  Past selections include the likes of The Fireballs’ “Bottle Of Wine”, the Monkees’ “Daydream Believer”, C.C.R.'s "Proud Mary" and Chuck Berry’s “Memphis” and I've heard that somewhere that back in the day, the band even took on Bob Dylan’s “Subterranean Homesick Blues” and Bob Walkenhorst sang it word-for-word!  I’d give anything to hear a tape of that today. Anyway, this year’s Way-Back Machine picks-that-clicked were a raucous rendition of Elvis’ “Burning Love”, as well as Buddy Holly’s “Not Fade Away”.  Hey, Bob, if you’re out there reading this and taking requests for next time, might I suggest the Blues Magoos’ “We Ain’t Got Nothin’ Yet”?  Youse guys would sound awesome on that little ‘60s rave-up…

Looking more than a skosh grayer than the last time I saw him, Brother Walkenhorst was his usual energetic/animated self on stage, and he also displayed his typical good-humored banter between songs.  As mentioned, this was my first time seeing Rich Ruth on stage, and he acquitted himself quite well on the bass, and also filled in nicely on vocals in place of Steve Phillips on “Nobody Knows”.  I couldn’t see much of Pat Tomek because my view of him was blocked most of the night, but he sounded rock steady on the skins.  As for Phillips’ replacement, Jeff Porter, he wasn’t too bad on lead guitar, but didn’t necessarily blow me away, either, and I definitely missed Steve’s distinctive slide playing.

This was my first experience at Knuckleheads, which is a rather unique venue.  It’s an indoor/outdoor nightclub with the stage outside at the west end of the block.  Technically, our seats weren’t actually IN the venue itself, but for larger shows like this, K-heads cordons off the adjoining street to allow for expansion of their seating area, and in spite of sitting on what is normally a city sidewalk by day, our view was just fine at stage left, about 20 yards from the stage.  I also rather enjoyed our close proximity to the $3 beer stand a mere 15 feet away!  The sound was outstanding too, apart from the first ten minutes of the Rainmakers set, which was a bit too bass-y before they corrected it.  The downside to Knuckleheads is the horrid part of town it’s located in, an area called the East Bottoms, with ‘bottom’ being the operative term.  To use a line from a song played early on in the Rainmakers' set, we were in "the lower parts of beautiful downtown Doomsville, baby," as you have to drive through industrial parks and W.T.H. (White Trash Heaven) to get there, and the venue itself literally abuts an active railroad line, thus Casey Jones and Union Pacific came chugging by at regular intervals all night.  The crowd was estimated at around 600, which justified adding a second show on Sunday night.  In spite of the unseasonably cool weather (upper 40s by show’s end), everyone seemed to go home happy, including my good friend Phil, who for one of the rare times, out-imbibed yours truly!

Opening the show were K.C.’s own SnotRockets (every city should have their own SnotRockets, doncha think?), fronted by local radio personality Doug Medlock on guitar and vocals.  They played a snappy 30-minute set of edgy Reverend Horton Heat-esque Rockabilly and were quite good.  High point of their set might have been their rather humorous rendition of Johnny Cash’s “Daddy Sang Bass”.

SET LIST (Incomplete and kinda-sorta in sequence):  Rockin’ At The T-Dance/Downstream/ Let My People Go-Go/ Doomsville/Big Fat Blonde/Long Gone Long/The One That Got Away/Government Cheese/Drinkin’ On The Job/Nobody Knows/Information/Given Time/Half A Horse Apiece/Like Dogs/Wages of Sin/Small Circles/Spend It On Love/The Lakeview Man/Another Guitar/Reckoning Day/Shiny Shiny/Width of a Line/Hoo-Dee-Hoo. ENCORE:  Burning Love/Not Fade Away/One More Summer