CONGRATULATIONS TO THE 2016 ROCK AND ROLL HALL OF FAME INDUCTEES…IRRESPECTIVE OF MY PERSONAL FEELINGS!

Just kidding folks.

No matter what anyone pretends (including some of the artists themselves), being inducted into a major Hall of Fame is a great honor and I’m down with anybody who makes it through the process.

This year it’s Chicago, N.W.A., Steve Miller, Cheap Trick and Deep Purple.

I didn’t have any especially strong feelings for any of the artists nominated this rime around except Spinners and, of course, being by far the most deserving, they did not make it. I’ll keep hoping. The one act I voted for in fan balloting which made the grade was Cheap Trick. I hope (but doubt) that their induction opens a crack for Big Star, Raspberries and the Go-Go’s, the other great power pop bands who were even greater rock and roll bands than Cheap Trick, to receive future consideration. We shall see.

As to the rest, N.W.A. and Deep Purple were genuine pioneers even if I’m not the prime audience for their music (and even if Joe South, deserving himself, did out-rock DP on “Hush”). Steve Miller was a genuine survivor, and Chicago sure did sell a lot of records (not a few of which I like a lot). All in all, I’d say it’s about average as recent classes go but it does continue one especially deep and troubling trend that I’ll keep harping on until it gets better: The Hall should stop pretending that black people disappeared in the 70s. If Chicago and Cheap Trick and Steve Miller can all go in during the same year, the first time any of them were nominated, then there’s no reason Barry White and the Commodores and Ohio Players shouldn’t go in next year as first time nominees.

Not to mention War and Spinners, the era’s greatest band and greatest vocal group respectively, R&B or otherwise. They both should have been in long ago.

So, looking forward, let this be the beginning of a new road folks, not an endless highway where a stream of geriatric white folks are eternally joined by a token rap or alternative act or two (look for Pearl Jam and Tupac next year), all selected by a hardening formula that now prizes television ratings over the Hall’s purported mission, as opposed to striking a necessary balance.

Take some advice in other words…

For my initial thoughts on the year’s nominees you can go here…

THOUGHTS ON THE 2016 ROCK AND ROLL HALL OF FAME NOMINEES

Since my first post on the Hall several years ago, at least a few of the acts I considered egregious oversights (Donna Summer, Linda Ronstadt, The “5” Royales) have found their way in. I’m confident I’ve had nothing whatsoever to do with this, except maybe cosmically, but the cosmos must be attended, so I take heart and keep plugging away. My lists of the most deserving not yet inducted are still very much the same and can be found HERE, HERE and HERE.

I try to do something a little different each year, simply because my relationship to each new batch of nominees is bound to change at least a little. This year, it’s a simple breakdown: 1) Acts (well, one anyway) who are in my own pantheon and therefore no-brainers; 2) Acts I have at least some strong feeling for, either because I think they filled some place in Rock History that can’t be entirely ignored or I just like their records a lot; and 3) Acts I don’t pretend to get.

So, in reverse order:

Acts I don’t pretend to get (or can at least easily eliminate from this particular ballot):

Nine Inch Nails and The Smiths: Charter members of the Gloom Squad, representativesof which, given the air of stagnation and hopelessness that began to dominate the culture in the late eighties and has continued to suck at our collective oxygen supply every single day since, we are almost certainly stuck with in perpetuity. If they are your thing, peace be upon you, but let’s do cancel the dinner reservations.

Yes: I really like “Roundabout.” But, as one record arguments go, it’s not exactly “La Bamba,” or “Summertime Blues.”

The J.B.s.: Very worthy. Please induct them immediately in the Musical Excellence or Sidemen category, as should have been done long ago. Can’t see spending a vote on them in the performer category.

Chicago: I’m at least a little torn on this one. I do like a lot of their records (more than I think I do actually, unless some event like this one forces me to focus). But I can’t say I’ve listened to them a lot so I just don’t have a strong feeling one way or the other. I will say their lack of critical respect and their capacity for annoying the crit-illuminati by selling millions of records hardly count against them in my book. That said, if the ice is beginning to thaw around the idea of acknowledging AM giants as a necessary and vital part of Rock and Roll History, give me Three Dog Night or the Fifth Dimension any day. Not to mention Tommy James.

Chaka Khan: I could see voting for her some time, especially if (as happened in the past) she was being considered along with her great interracial funk band, Rufus. But she might be one of those acts I can always consider voting for in theory who just never happens to crack the top five on any given ballot. Time will tell. BTW: Interracial funk bands have a way of getting overlooked by the Hall: Think War, Hot Chocolate, KC and the Sunshine Band. Apparently Sly and the Family Stone are enough for the “Hey I’m not really opposed to the concept” crowd. I’d like to see this change, so Rufus would be more likely to get my vote than Chaka alone.

Acts I’d at least strongly consider:

Janet Jackson: She’s a strong candidate and, as someone who generally chides the Hall for seriously slacking on recognition of women and black people, she should be a natural. She was a major superstar and I even like a lot of her records. I can’t say I ever had that special “moment” with her, though. There’s no one record that makes me pull her records off the shelf at least every once in  a while. Since this is very rare for me with any rock and roll act who had even a modest run of sustained success I have to be at least a little bit suspicious. Why Janet? Why aren’t we connecting like we should? Why are Chaka and Chicago in the not-ready-for-consideration category when no record you ever made is on a level with “Tell Me Something Good” or “Just You ‘n’ Me?”  Why does life hold so many mysteries? Withholding judgment on this one…

N.W.A.: The other act on this ballot who are considered a likely slam dunk. Overall that’s a good sign. I can’t remember the last time the two favorites going in were African-American. Wish I liked their music as well as their story. I mean, should burnishing my street cred feel so much like eating my broccoli? Or reading my Chomsky? Withholding….yaddah, yaddah, yaddah.

Chic: Yes, yes they should be in. I love “Le Freak” unconditionally (as well as a number of Rodgers and Edwards’ productions for other artists) so there is no problem with the “connection” missing in the previous two entries. And yes, I’m probably going to vote for them. I still don’t quite get why they’ve been on the ballot ten times and Barry White and KC and the Sunshine Band have zero nominations between them…But I’m probably still going to vote for them. Let’s wait and see.

Deep Purple: I was keener on them until I started listening to Joe South again and realized his version of “Hush” not only wastes theirs on the, you know, emotional level where you except a singer-songwriter to have an advantage, but actually rocks harder. Still, they had a real role in making hard rock “heavy.” And I wouldn’t want to put together the classic rock comp that’s going to play on the Celestial Jukebox at the End of Time without “Highway Star” or “My Woman From Tokyo” somewhere in the mix.

Los Lobos: They made one truly great album. That was enough for Guns N’ Roses, whose great album wasn’t quite as great (though it sold a lot more and caused a lot more head-banging). It’s enough for me to certainly put them under strong consideration. I wish they were a little less professorial, of course. But if rock and roll is truly democratic, surely there must be room for the professors too….Mustn’t there?

Steve Miller: The Hall is often perverse. Should we even be surprised that this very long in coming nomination is for Miller alone and not The Steve Miller Band, which is the title under which he made his records? Sure there were a lot of different people in those bands, but the Hall has made room for similar aggregations before, so who knows what the thinking is. As for the records themselves, I’m obviously putting him ahead of Chicago, even if it’s only a hair. I’m hazy on his early, more critically acclaimed work. It was out of San Francisco so familiarity with it, might make me feel more strongly for or against (in a Grateful Dead, no, Jefferson Airplane maybe, CCR or Sly or Janis, yes, sort of way). Which leaves me wondering if the lead-in riff to “Jet Airliner” is enough to make him worthy all by itself? I lived the Seventies. I very specifically lived 1977. And I have to say it’s a very close call.

Cheap Trick and The Cars: Gee, not a month ago I was gently lamenting that I clearly liked Power Pop a lot better than the Hall did, and here they go and put two of the Big Five on the ballot at once. Granted I don’t listen to either as much as Big Star or Raspberries or the Go-Go’s, but they’re both fine bands and the Cars have the additional lift of being the most popular band in the little-genre-that-couldn’t-quite-save-rock-and-roll-but-sure-had-fun-trying. Hall worthy? Definitely. Possible to vote for one and not the other? Tough call. I think I can manage it. I think I’ll probably have to. Which one?….Which one, knowing that the chances of the three even greater bands being considered in the future ride heavily on how these two do? Which one, knowing that these two have the decided advantage of being mysteriously accepted at “classic rock” formats?…Oh, God.

NO-BRAINER:

Spinners: The premiere vocal group of the seventies, the last decade when the competition was fierce and the distinction therefore amounted to an epic accomplishment. Stop the nonsense. Stop dumping on seventies R&B. Stop dumping on vocal groups. Put them in already, so I can start banging the drum for the Stylistics and the Chi-Lites! (insert maniacal laughter here!)

Final ballot:

Spinners…

Los Lobos…

Cheap Trick….

Janet Jackson…

Chic…

(and a Rodgers and Edwards bonus….)

…First alternate, the Cars…

If you want to participate in fan balloting you can access the Future Rock Legends site here (you have to scroll down a bit). The Rock and Roll Hall of Fame’s actual ballot, which has a very small effect on actual voting (but, I suspect, may have a very real effect on considerations for future nominees) is here.

 

 

 

 

WHAT IMPRESSED ME THIS WEEK (Little Steven Takes the Easy Way Out…)

I love Little Steven Van Zandt’s Underground Garage radio show, especially when I catch it in the car.

It’s got three basic things going for it. The first is the host’s personality (key to any successful radio show). Second is the chance to hear music I would never hear anywwhere else and make judgments on it. Third, and most significant for me, is the chance to hear familiar music re-contextualized. At its best, the show does what modern radio so seldom does–hooks you.

The one small fly in the sea of ointment is Van Zandt’s occasional tendency to indulge a bit of uber-hipness, which, oddly, cuts against the grain of the whole enterprise (he’s not, for instance, afraid of praising the Monkees or Herman’s Hermits).

This week, driving home on a Saturday night, I heard one of those re-makes which was sufficiently different from the original that I couldn’t place it until I heard the chorus.

Turned out to be some obviously punk-ish version of “Yo-Yo” (which I have posted in the past and can be viewed again here), a hit for the Osmonds in their brief run of genius before some idiot induced them away from Memphis’ American Studios, songs like “Yo-Yo,” and any chance of being real long-term competition for the Jackson 5 (an idea that isn’t nearly as heretical as some might assume–the American period was the only time the Osmonds had a similar level of musical support to what the Jacksons got at Motown, and while the difference between the two groups vocally was real, in the words of John T. Chance, I wouldn’t want to live on the difference).

Anyway, when the deliberately off-key remake was followed by Deep Purple’s hit version of “Hush,” I thought maybe there was some kind of Joe South tribute going on (he wrote both songs).

Turned out that wasn’t the case, though when Steven came back on the mike he did mention that South wrote both songs and remarked on the oddity of the same man writing a big hit for both the Osmonds and Deep Purple in the same era. Unfortunately, that was only after he had claimed the “Yo-Yo” remake (by the Doughboys as it turned out) had made the song “kinda cool.”

Which I heard with a touch of bemusement because my first thought when I realized the song was actually “Yo-Yo” was along the lines of “Too bad Steven didn’t have the stones to play the Osmonds.”

I had that thought because the Osmonds’ version smokes the Doughboys seven ways from Sunday.

And it would have taken some moxy for Little Steven to admit as much, right there in the Underground Garage.

Besides which, “cool” is such an elusive concept:

 

2014 ROCK AND ROLL HALL OF FAME NOMINEES ANNOUNCED

(For my thoughts on the artists I feel most strongly about, you can go here, here and here…Donna Summer has since been voted in)

As always, congratulations to all nominees, even those I don’t love…and best of luck. Nominees are thus:

Nirvana, Kiss, The Replacements, Hall and Oates, Paul Butterfield Blues Band, Chic, Deep Purple, Peter Gabriel, LL Cool J, N.W.A., Link Wray, The Meters, Linda Ronstadt, Cat Stevens, Yes, The Zombies.

My rundown…(as usual, having nothing to do with who I think will get in, just my assessment of how deserving each nominee is)

Indie/Alternative:

Nirvana’s a no-brainer. Kurt Cobain’s suicide effectively ended the rock and roll revolution that rolled out of Fats Domino’s left hand in 1950, threatening the end of hate and war. I blame us, not Cobain, for the ultimate failure but in any case you can’t get much more influential than that.

The Replacements haven’t made much impression on me. Major cool factor going for them but if we’re focusing on cult bands, I don’t really understand why they would be voted in ahead of Big Star or the New York Dolls.

Rap/Hip-Hop:

I put in a vote for N.W.A. last year (they were bound to be edged out by Public Enemy and they were), but I think this is a slightly longer and stronger ballot so I wouldn’t put them in my top five this time around.

LL Cool J has been on the ballot before and he would be a solid pick. I’m going in another direction this year, a little more true old school, but I could easily imagine picking him in another year where there was slightly less competition.

Prog/Art/Whatever:

I like radio-friendly Yes, which is about four songs. Every time I try to go deeper I get lost.

Peter Gabriel brings up one of my pet peeves, which is giving ballot slots to artists who have already been inducted (Gabriel is in as a member of Genesis). If the artist in question is a slam dunk (Michael Jackson say) or at least a truly strong candidate (Paul Simon, Eric Clapton, Clyde McPhatter) then I have no problem, but I don’t think Gabriel is in that class. Again, I like his radio hits, some of them a lot. I’d probably vote for him ahead of Yes, but in my own little circumscribed world, that isn’t necessarily saying much.

Classic Rock:

Ah, Kiss. On the basis of “Domino” alone, I will definitely vote for them some day. But they would make it much easier for me if they promise to play “Beth” and “Hard Luck Woman” at the induction ceremony and then get off the stage so Ace Frehley can close the show with “New York Groove.” (And for anyone who thinks I’m kidding, all I can say is you don’t know me very well as yet. They make the decision to stand by what they were best at, I’ll vote for them in a heartbeat.)

Deep Purple have a claim on helping invent/define heavy metal and the “classic” rock format. Thinking hard….

Singer/Songwriter:

At least Cat Stevens is not a cult act in the manner of recent inductees Leonard Cohen/Tom Waits/Laura Nyro/Randy Newman. I mean, he had a string of hits, which is a quality I happen to like in a practitioner of a best-seller genre in a popular art form. But why he would be on the ballot yet again while Jackie DeShannon and Carole King (as a performer) wait in the wings is a mystery.

British Invasion:

The Zombies have been bubbling under for years and at last they’ve made the ballot. I like them fine, but if there has to be another Invasion band in the Hall (and I’m not saying that there does, though I’m also not saying I object, strictly speaking) then I would rather it be Manfred Mann. Or, given the recent induction of the Small Faces and the Faces as a single unit, why not Manfred Mann/Manfred Mann’s Earth Band? That I’d probably go for.

Funk/Disco:

Chic is a perennial nominee and they will certainly get in one of these days. I’m slightly torn on them because I like them in theory a bit better than I do in practice and I have a sneaking suspicion that their admittedly massive influence wasn’t the net positive most make it out to be. A tad detached for my tastes. Put K.C. and the Sunshine Band in this spot and I would be a bit happier. Put Barry White in this spot and I would go “duh” and put a check mark next to his name. His continued absence is bewildering….Still, on the basis of “Le Freak” and all those really great Rodgers/Edwards producing credits…I’m thinking.

The Meters are a group I’ve heard and read about a lot more than I’ve listened to and that’s on me. I should do better by them. Until I do, I’ll take a pass.

Blues Projects:

The Hall loves putting blues acts in the “performer” section of the Hall. This is as good a place as any to renew my call for a “Contemporary Influence” category, which could include seminal acts ranging from Patsy Cline to Herbie Hancock to Peter, Paul and Mary who have had a truly sizeable impact on rock and roll and the rock era generally without actually being rock and roll performers much (or any) of the time (even in the context of my own extremely broad definition of the term). It’s probably too late for that, as strictly blues performers now dot the Hall’s performer roster, as well as Miles Davis (who would have been perfect for the category and frankly still would be). Whether the Paul Butterfield Blues Band would be a true fit for that imaginary category is an interesting potentinal debate. Meanwhile, getting back to reality, I simply restate my previous call from last year: Honor Mike Bloomfield in the side-men category and start using this slot for someone else.

Rock n’ Roll:

Link Wray. Good God yes. And about time.

Top 40 Giants (Seventies/Early Eighties Division):

Hall and Oates are apparently the cause celebre of new Nomination Committee member Questlove, who evidently brought a lot of hip-hop credibility and a sense of Black America’s genuine love for the last of the blue-eyed soul giants to the process. There was a time when I would have seen this as a borderline call at best, but I’ve been familiarizing myself with their box set over the past year or so and, speaking as someone who values “hip hop credibility” about as much as I value “punk credibility,”–i.e, as another term that makes me basically want to swallow my own tongue and choke to death–I’m now calling them a no-brainer and kicking myself for needing to be reminded. Just to prove there is such a thing as personal growth, I should confess here and now that I once took out a contract on their lives when their version of “You’ve Lost That Lovin’ Feeling” was rising up the charts. Basically I felt they needed to be stopped. Boys, you may not be the Righteous Brothers, but I’m nonetheless officially glad my man Guido never found you. It’s all good now–and he probably would have come after me when he discovered I didn’t really have the ten grand after all.

I was far from the only one who suspected that the announcement of Linda Ronstadt’s Parkinson’s diagnosis might prompt the Hall to continue it’s macabre habit of noticing epic female vocalists once they have an incurable disease. As I mentioned before, at least Linda is getting off relatively easy since it’s only her voice that died, while Dusty Springfield and Donna Summer needed an actual date with the Grim Reaper in order to be deemed worthy. Then again, this is just a nomination. We’ll see how it works out in the end. For what it’s worth, Ronstadt, whose voice was the foundation stone upon which the seventies-era California Rock scene was effectively built, has been eligible since 1992. She should have been in at least fifteen years ago. A lot of people have suggested that if she ever made it out of the nominating committee she would sail to election. Now that this theory is finally being put to the test, I hope I haven’t been truly paranoid all these years in suspecting it wouldn’t be that simple. We shall see.

In summation this is a good batch of nominees though, as usual, I could imagine it being still better. I could easily vote for nearly everyone on this ballot in a given year, especially N.W.A., LL Cool J, Kiss and, of course, Nirvana. As with last year, I’m leaving off the most obvious choice (in this case, Nirvana) on the grounds that they won’t need my support. You can go to the Hall’s voting site here to cast a let-my-voice-be-heard-in-however-small-a-way ballot.

I’m casting mine for Ronstadt, Hall and Oates, Chic, Deep Purple and Link Wray.

 

QUICK THOUGHTS ON THE 2012 ROCK AND ROLL HALL OF FAME NOMINATIONS…

(NOTE: The Future Rock Legends site has posted this year’s nominees. Please check it out and consider participating in the fan vote.)

You can go here, here and here to see who I think should have been nominated. The only overlap this year between my list and the actual nominating committee’s is Donna Summer so, obviously, she’s a no-brainer. In past years, death worked for the equally deserving Dusty Springfield and the hardly deserving (as a solo performer) George Harrison, so here’s hoping this will be her time.

I also voted for N.W.A. (along with Public Enemy, eligible for the first time), the Marvelettes, Heart and Deep Purple.

For the record, I don’t agree with the folks at FRL that this is an exceptionally strong ballot, especially not given the long list of the more deserving who have once more been left off.

However, I never have a problem finding five worthy candidates.

Heart was close to making my own list and N.W.A. were outside my consideration because they are just becoming eligible, so those were easy picks.

The Marvelettes are not, to my mind, as important as the Chantels or the Shangri-Las to either rock history or my personal pantheon. But they did have Motown’s first #1 hit, made lots of great records and are fully worthy of induction (as is Mary Wells). They are also the only pre-Beatles act on this year’s ballot and that ever more tenuous connection needs to be kept alive until the dozen or so still-deserving acts from that era get their due.

Deep Purple seemed the most worthy of the remaining acts since they did have a certain amount of weight in the early days of what’s now called (rather arrogantly and narrowly) “classic rock.”

As for the rest:

Newly eligible Public Enemy are a virtual shoo-in and Rush will probably get the most public support. I don’t have any problem with these two acts being in, though, to be fair, I probably don’t know enough about either act to truly judge their music.

Reactionaries who dream of a world where we all run back to the tribes tend to have a distancing effect on me.

On the other hand, Albert King and the Paul Butterfield Blues Band seem extremely marginal. If pure blues acts are going to be in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame as performers, I think they should at least be giants in their own field. Not sure that really applies to either of these, though both, of course, made lots of fine music and had a monumental side or two. I’m just not sure history is any different without them.

Chic keeps getting nominated and they deserve to be in, but I would put them a long way behind Barry White and a shade behind K.C. and the Sunshine Band in the disco sweepstakes.

The Meters are fine. I probably should listen to more of their music, too, but I doubt I would rank them anywhere near War.

Kraftwerk represents an area of rock-as-machinery/machinery-as-rock that’s never been my cup of tea, but I find it hard to believe they should be put ahead of Roxy Music (and I’m not even sure I would vote for Roxy Music if they were on this relatively weak ballot).

Randy Newman is fine. His best music is the equal of anyone’s best music (though most of it was made a very long time ago and, for someone who is supposedly uncompromising and iconoclastic there sure has been a lot of inexplicable mediocrity over the ensuing decades). But he’s not as deserving as Jackie DeShannon or Carole King and he represents a disturbing trend of voters seemingly banding together and continually electing marginal singer-songwriters (Leonard Cohen, Tom Waits, Laura Nyro) in hopes whichever one they really want in will be on next year’s ballot.

Procol Harum? Again, I probably need to listen more, but I’ve listened enough to feel pretty confident they aren’t hiding any Sandy Denny or Richard Thompson level geniuses in there. Save them for later. Put the Fairport Convention in first.

That leaves Joan Jett and her band, the Blackhearts. Very tricky case. I like her a lot, but maybe more as an icon and personality than for her actual records. Still, the moment when “I Love Rock and Roll” and “We Got the Beat” sat at #1 and #2 on the singles charts was a great, great breakthrough in the way half of the human race could imagine seeing themselves. And the fact that so many assumed Jett and the Go-Gos were cultural inevitabilities rather than visionaries who–taking very different paths–decoded and blew apart some of the world’s oldest hack prejudices and preconceptions at the exact same moment, has been long since belied by the “inevitable” culture’s inability to produce more than a tiny handful of worthy heirs for either.

So while I would put the Go-Gos in first, Jett’s worthy and I would make her my first alternate, just ahead of Chic.

All in all, this is by no means a terrible list to choose from (there’s never been a terrible RRHOF list to choose from, no matter what you might have heard). But the Hall’s most persistent patterns–inexplicably prejudicing writers and players over the singers who actually gave rock and roll its unique identity, resistance to women who do not long to be part of some boys’ club or other and the preference for cultish white acts (or white liberal approved acts like Public Enemy) over far more significant black ones–all generally continue.

Setting Donna Summer aside, War, Spinners, Jerry Butler, Dionne Warwick, Cyndi Lauper, Carole King and Linda Ronstadt were each big stars in their respective eras and at least matched the artistry of anyone else on this list. Those patterns are shifting ever so slightly, but until they are addressed more thoroughly, the hole in the side of the Hall’s leaking boat will only grow larger.

And given what a great and necessary institution the RRHOF is–and how vital it is becoming to the preservation of rock’s central, somewhat contradictory, idea of bringing the tribes closer together without obliterating their identity altogether, that’s a real shame.

 

GOOD MAN GONE…MEMORIES REMAIN (JOE SOUTH, R.I.P.)

(As I’ve noted, my life is a little topsy-turvy right now, so I missed the great Joe South’s passing a couple of weeks back…Hence, I’m a little late but I couldn’t let this one go by.)

Joe South “Don’t it Make You Want To Go Home” (Studio)

The Osmonds “Yo-Yo” (Television performance)

Joe South “Redneck” (Studio)

In 1981 I was majoring in English at Florida State and living in a studio apartment a block off campus.

The apartment complex had a couple of notable features beyond cheap rent and a location that allowed an easy walk to class.

The first feature was the roaches–legendary in college apartments to be sure, but this place had gone a little above and beyond the call. It attracted a particularly high class of survivor-roach and it attracted them in even greater than usual numbers. There were some occasions when my college budget (which had taken every penny I earned working for my dad between the ages of nine and seventeen in the first two months back in the fall of 1980 and was now being abetted by a job as a courier for a real estate company) could cover roach-traps.

Alas, these traps usually filled up within a day or two and my budget allowed for a replacement somewhere along the lines of once a quarter.

The upshot was that, when I was in college, I became very proficient at killing cockroaches with my bare hands. My roaches being of the gone-into-a-crack-less-than-one-second-after-the-light-comes-on variety rather than the don’t-worry-I’ll-just-waddle-along-the-open-floor-here-while-you-get-the-fly-swatter variety, it was either that…or let them go.

After about six months I had developed a deep aversion to letting the little so-and-so’s escape.

If I woke up in the morning and there were, say, half-a-dozen in the kitchen sink, I could forgive myself if one got away. Killing six roaches in less than a second–with your bare hands and within a minute of waking up–is no small feat even when you are young and strong. If there were less than six, however, and one slipped off, I usually entered a state of semi-catatonic depression which was likely to last until I got a chance to wipe out the next brigade.

That was one feature of the Jefferson Arms on Jefferson Street, a long block from the building where I plied my major.

The other feature involved the hot and cold water handles on the sink faucet in the bathroom.

They turned opposite ways.

Let me just tell you that having faucet handles which are not synchronized is a much quicker path to contemplation of suicide than sharing a place with endless legions of German cockroaches.

I mean it might not have been so bad, except that the entire water service shut off so frequently. This meant that about once a month or so you would be using this particular sink–and almost certainly have both faucets wide open to make up for the lack of water pressure–and then have to guess which way the countervailing handles were supposed to turn when the water suddenly stopped flowing.

Now, is it the right side that turns clockwise or the left?

Somehow, I could never bring myself to write it down. Pride I guess. Or fear that if I acknowledged my low state of affairs in this clinical, unromantic, way it might lead directly to the situation becoming permanent–not an irrational thought for those of us who turned to English-majoring in college because we had no plan for life beyond it!

Often as not, then, old habits asserted themselves and you just absent-mindedly turned the faucets the way they were supposed to go.

Which meant you better be there when the water came back on, because if you weren’t, you were the one responsible for the complex’s monthly flood.

One day in 1981, I was the one responsible.

I can tell you generally how it happened.

I was in a hot hurry to get to work.

Whether the specific cause of my hurry on this particular day was just the usual tight schedule (stiff walk from class, grab a baloney sandwich, run to the Maverick, get to work on time!) or a Hayley Mills movie on one of Ted Turner’s cable stations (I swear no other living creature could make me late for work…and I don’t mean Ted Turner!) I do not recall.

Suffice it to say that when I did get back from work that evening there was a note on my door to see the management–and a very wet apartment.

Evidently, mine was one of the worse floods.

I was on the ground floor and my next door neighbor wasn’t home either, so the water had to get all the way out the front door before anyone noticed.

Management was lenient. I had been drenched from above on two previous occasions and my prompt reporting (of course I was home when it was somebody else’s apartment!) had prevented some real damage (the truly dreaded kind that might have made re-threading the faucet handles cost-effective or something).

My next door neighbor was sweet about the whole thing. We agreed on seventy-five dollars for damages and I was only a couple of days late paying her off.

Her cocker spaniel had been frightened out of his wits but was otherwise unharmed.

So the only lasting effect of the flood I was responsible for was on my record collection.

*   *   *   *

In those days–five years into my habit–I could fit all my vinyl LPs in a single double-shelf case my father had custom built for me.

I still have the case, which was built to hold between two hundred and two hundred and fifty LPs (depending on how many doubles were included)

Despite sitting on the floor, it emerged unscathed.

So unscathed I can no longer pick it out from its thirteen matching companions, all of which I built myself as the years and the records accumulated.

These days, the cases are all full.

Back then, thankfully, the flood only reached the bottom shelf of that one case–and there were probably less than dozen records down there.

Over the years, I replaced a few, simply because the jackets became too warped and moldy (though, oddly, never the records–it was as if they were charmed somehow).

Dusty Springfield’s Golden Hits (replaced).

Diana Ross and the Supremes Greatest Hits (replaced–I was enough of a snob to have them filed under S, where they by God belonged!)

Tanya Tucker’s Greatest Hits on Columbia (replaced).

Some of the others–because they were too hard to find or simply weren’t damaged badly enough to warrant bothering with it–stayed on as permanent reminders.

The true survivors.

The Who’s Meaty, Beaty, Big and Bouncy (survivor).

The Shangri-Las’ Golden Hits on Mercury (survivor).

….Joe South’s Greatest Hits (survivor).

*   *   *   *

What strikes me now about that list is how important they all were–and are.

How much every purchase counted in those days of desperately low finance countered by an equal and opposite need to know what was hiding behind those cellophane wrappers in the record store.

How easy it was to listen to those albums all the way through every time I put them on.

That’s a heavy list up there. Filled with artists who either are or should be in whatever Hall of Fame exists for their kind of music.

I don’t say Joe South necessarily does or does not belong in any Halls except those he’s already in (Nashville Songwriters and Georgia Music)–though it’s easy to imagine him having earned such accolades already (say the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame and the national Songwriters Hall) if his brother’s suicide in the early seventies hadn’t taken the heart out of him.

But, based on the music he did get to make, he definitely belongs in that high company.

South made some great music as a sideman.

The rattlesnake guitar on Aretha Franklin’s “Chain of Fools”–which sounds like a soundtrack of the entire sixties–is his, as is the heavy lifting on significant parts of Bob Dylan’s earth-shaking Blonde on Blonde.

He made some wonderful music as a producer (the hit run of the very under-rated Billy Joe Royal as well as Friend and Lover’s Devil’s Island classic “Reach Out in the Darkness,” among others).

God knows he made some truly great music as a songwriter and God knows that music traveled.

There aren’t too many writers who can claim to have written standards that crossed from swamp-rock (South’s own hits) to countrypolitan (Lynn Anderson’s “I Never Promised You a Rose Garden”) to teen-pop (the Osmonds’ “Yo-Yo”) to heavy metal (Deep Purple’s “Hush”) without sounding the least bit forced or scatter-shot.

South was one who could.

For all that, I still value him most as a singer because I still go back to how well that slightly moldy Greatest Hits album (which didn’t even include “Redneck”–one of his greatest songs and, given when and where it was recorded, likely his boldest) stood up in the elite company of my early record collection.

His versions of those great songs were always the equal of anyone who covered them, up to and including Elvis (who smoked “Walk A Mile In My Shoes” live) and Swamp Dogg (who recorded a version of “Redneck” which is my favorite South cover). This was despite the fact that South in no way possessed a classically great voice and in no way attempted the kind of obvious affectation we now associate with the Bob Dylan school of persona-management.

He was great because he had an extremely rare quality–the knack for just being. (And, hey, if the knack really was an affectation, it was sufficiently disguised in his case to amount to the same thing, which would make him rarer still.)

He was great because Rock and Roll used to demand that of people and he was one of those who lived up to the challenge.

He was great because he lived in angry times and he wasn’t afraid to take them on–as Dave Marsh and others have pointed out, it took real courage for a southern white man who had no intention of going anyplace else to start a hit song in the voice of an angry populist and end it by shouting “Furthermore, to hell with hate,” in the year that George Wallace was making a serious run at the presidency. I would only add that it also took a touch of genius to make this sound as natural as breathing.

And he was great because he lived in times like any other and he wasn’t afraid to acknowledge that either. There’s never going to be an age when “Don’t it Make You Want To Go Home” or “I Knew You When” or, heck, “Yo-Yo,” don’t speak to somebody’s life and so there’s never going to be a time when Joe South, who had his two biggest hits with protest records that were as rooted in the special circumstances of their time and place as any music could be (and turned out to be transcendent after all), won’t have a chance to sneak up on somebody and change their life, too.