I’m starting to put my Eve of Destruction-by-Election Soundtrack together (Coming to a Blog Post Near You, November 7th!). Rummaging around, I found this little item. I have no idea whether it depicts a world busy being born or busy dying. I went to a gathering of Shades and asked the Shade of the Prophet, but he couldn’t tell me either (not only that, he refused to call me a Seeker…May the Nobel Committee take back his prize and Timothy Leary spike his dope in the Great Beyond!).
I like that about it.
What I really like, though, is that the crowd can’t tell whether they’re supposed to be dancing fast or slow. If that’s not a metaphor for the century after the American Century (and the Splendid Life of Keith Moon), I don’t know what is…
….By which I mean the kind of rulers you can use for drumsticks if you don’t have real drumsticks….or drums.
I’ve heard there is such a thing as “air-drumming” which I guess is kin to air guitar, but, while I used to play occasional air guitar (like everybody, I hope, who doesn’t play actual guitar), I never could get the point of air drumming. I honestly hope it was all a misunderstanding and it’s never really been a thing.
And, just to be clear, I don’t do much “drumming” of any kind anymore and by “not much” I mean I can’t remember the last time I even held a ruler, let alone broke one.
But I used to do it a lot. I liked to play steady rhythm on the parts of the legs that are just above the knees, though I usually tried to keep a shelf or a wall or a chair handy for the rolls and flourishes.
Because of the knee-and-thigh element, a heavy wooden ruler was not really a good option. I imagine it would have been the same for an actual drumstick (which I wouldn’t have wanted to risk breaking anyway). I wasn’t a masochist, so beating myself black and blue held no appeal. Light plastic rulers were generally useless because they broke too easily. One good session with any of the acts I’m about to mention and, boom, crack, shatter, it was time for a replacement.
That left hard plastic. Something like this…
Handy. Because, back in my impetuous youth, just singing, or shouting, along wasn’t always quite enough, and the pain and pleasure (i.e., the amount of damage done to me and the ruler respectively) had to be kept in a sensible balance even if I was temporarily out of my fantasy drumming head.
And, so (with apologies to Keith Moon and the Surfaris, who I could never keep up with though I sure had a lot of fun trying, and to Dino Danelli, who always lost me at the twirl), my top six ruler-breakers–the six that couldn’t be left off–in reverse order.
Drum roll, please….
#6 Artist: The Rolling Stones (1969) Song: “Gimme Shelter”
Drummer: Charlie Watts (Honestly, I never cared whether Mick or Merry won the famous battle between Heaven and Hell at the end. I was always too busy trying to keep that weird time….no chance of breaking anything if you lost that!)
#5 Artist: The Righteous Brothers (1964) Song: “You’ve Lost That Lovin’ Feelin'”
Drummer: Earl Palmer (For the distant thunder at the beginning of the bridge and the explosion on top of your head at the end of it…and for being Earl Palmer.)
#4 Artist: The Clash (1979) Song: “Death Or Glory”
Drummer: Topper Headon (Surely the greatest licks ever played by a functioning heroin addict..and the other great whisper-to-scream bridge.)
#3 Artist: The 4 Seasons (1964) Song: “Dawn (Go Away)”
Drummer: Buddy Saltzman (“Instead of throwing a plate at somebody, I took it out on the drums. You had to get it out of your system.”)
#2 Artist: Sam and Dave Song: “I Thank You”
Drummer: Al Jackson, Jr. (Really the entire Stax catalog, where he used to anchor Booker T and the MGs, the Memphis Horns and the world’s greatest soul singers…all at once. But if I had to pick one…)
#1 Artist: The Go-Go’s (1981) Song: “Can’t Stop the World”
Drummer: Gina Schock (I should probably mention that all of these numbers used to gain traction by their company on the really great albums I liked to hear them on. Closing an album (as opposed to opening one, like “Gimme Shelter”), was definitely an advantage in this little mind game. Beauty and the Beat made all kinds of breakthroughs for all kinds of reasons, none of which were more important than what I used to say under my breath, with a smile between every cut, as the second side rolled by….”Turn It Up.” I wasn’t referring to volume, just channeling Ms. Schock’s vibe as the leader of the last truly great rock and roll rhythm section….This was the closer. Every time I would bet her fastball couldn’t really get any higher and harder after “You Can’t Walk In Your Sleep” and “Skidmarks On My Heart.” And every time I would be wrong.)
At the moment of their national breakout, in late 1981, the Go-Go’s played a concert at Palos Verdes High School. The concert was released on VHS and Laser Disc and, in an age when few people yet had VCRs, went straight to the cutout bin, where it became a collector’s item, priced well beyond what I was ever willing to spend for anything as technologically dubious as a VHS tape.
A few days ago, I finally found it here…Clear, complete, uncut:
Unless you’re a Go-Go’s fanatic, of course, you probably won’t want to watch the whole thing. But for followers of this blog, I do recommend at least fast-forwarding to the final song of the final encore, where you can see and hear West Coaster Belinda Carlisle (she’s the singer and, until this moment, as beyond awesome as the rest) committing spiritual murder by attempting to render “Remember (Walkin’ In the Sand)” as pure camp.
You can also see and hear the proof that East Coaster Gina Schock (she’s the drummer) was sent by God to drive demons from holy places. Really, you can just turn the sound down if you want, because the whole story is in their faces.
Since I did watch the whole thing (and will certainly do so again and again) I can report that my long-standing suspicion that The Final Battle of the Bands, which I have on secret authority will definitely be taking place at the conclusion of the Great Sock Hop at the End of Time, will come down to the Go-Go’s and whichever three guys Keith Moon decides to show up with has been confirmed.
Listen to just about any musical genius who lived ninety miles an hour and found death before it could find them and it’s easy to hear them chasing what they caught.
It’s a long list: Robert Johnson, Hank Williams, Charlie Parker, Brian Jones, Janis Joplin, Jim Morrison, Jimi Hendrix, Keith Moon, Kurt Cobain. All carried deep desperation or (assuming the qualities can ever be disentangled) fatalism in their bones. They couldn’t have kept the devil’s laughter from being an essential part of how they sang or played if they had wanted to…which they wouldn’t have.
Listening to seven hours of Skydog: The Duane Allman Retrospective this week, four of them on the annual Florida-Alabama-Georgia loop that carries me past my mother’s graveside, what I heard was a man who had absorbed and mastered everything from Steve Cropper-style studio concision to deep, biting blues to epic guitar god soloing to do Clapton or Hendrix proud…and not only sounded like his own man on every note, but like he had all the time in the world.
He might have been the only live-fast-die-young icon who actually died on a motorcycle, but unlike everybody else I just listed, it’s easy to hear any piece of music he ever touched, from lightest brush…
to firm embrace…
…and imagine him living another fifty years if he had only lived another day.
When I make that annual pilgrimage in the future, I won’t have to worry anymore about which music to ride along with.