Been pawing through the bins at Plan 9 records the last few weeks, searching for underappreciated, underused examples of big ole', radio-shunned, lighters and smelly smoke-clouds, live drum solo having RAWK.
Midway through all this, while pondering a years in the making post making the case for Aerosmith as the second best American band of all time (behind the Ramones of course), I realized that all these other bands I've been checking out, recently, happen to be American as well.
This wasn't a pre-requisite or anything as I'm always searching for British stuff like Leafhound and all manners of weird, heaviness from all corners of the globe, it just happened that my recent finds and obsessions have originated here in the US and A.
I can't help but think of Dazed and Confused (number one priority of the summer: Aerosmith tickets!) when thinking of what it might have been like to catch some of these bands in their prime on a sweaty, Spring night.
One of the albums I've been listening to is Black Oak Arkansas's Raunch 'N Roll Live and I just get lost wondering, when it spins, about the sheer amount of sex and controlled substances that surely were exchanged before, during and after this show as authentic 70's sweat pours through Black Oak's triple guitar assault and out of my soggy speakers.
And I haven't even mentioned Jim Dandy yet!
His rap before "Hot Rod" should be enshrined in any sort of Hall of Fame way before Gene Simmons' wig and the team of producers, publicists, parasites and sycophants behind the product known as "Madonna."
Before Ozzy so heinously jumped the shark, I used to actually think it was a crime that anyone was in the Rock Hall of Fame before Sabbath. Now I'm just happy that Geezer, Tony and Bill got one fraction of the credit they so richly deserve for reshaping modern music infinitely for the better.
Back to Black Oak, I'd heard or read somewhere that 'Diamond' David Lee Roth modeled/stole his persona largely off of Jim Dandy. I can see that a little from a visual standpoint, but honestly when it comes to stealing from Mr. Dandy I detect way more theft and unpaid royalties emanating from, and owed by, Axl Rose.
Similarities between Black Oak and Guns n' Roses have been made explicit by sages as disparate as Chuck Eddy and Mike Prosser, but listening to jams like "Gigolo" and "Hot Rod" the connections really hit home.
There is a sort of primordial echo of the rickety, Marlboro and JD funk of "Mr. Brownstone" or "Rocket Queen" in the groove to "Gigolo." Although Chuck E. hears it more plainly in side 2's smokin' version of "Hot n' Nasty."
Tommy Aldridge lays down an almost subliminally solid, sometimes punishing foundation for all the washboard solos, preaching and fretboard firestorms.
The guitar playing on Raunch manages to strike a decent balance between flash and soul; something Slash was also usually able to achieve in his playing.
The mastermind behind one of my favorite bands in recent memory, Zeke's Blind Marky Felchtone, himself an Arkansas native and guitar dervish, is an unabashed Black Oak acolyte.
But there is a certain leering menace in the growl that Jim Dandy wielded like jester with a scythe and I definitely hear traces of it on Appetite for Destruction far more than on anything David Lee ever put his name to.
As an aside-
Let me just say that Axl Rose is the biggest sellout/poser that ever lived.
I'm not as embarrassed by my belief in the Easter Bunny, the existence of Kayfabe and all my relationship misadventures rolled into one as I am by being one of his marks in the early Appetite era.
I'm not even ashamed that I liked Bullet Boys...hell...those dudes jammed when I saw them at City Limits and their cover of "Hang on St. Christopher" is still decent.
Axl's the one I'd take back in a heartbeat.
All it took was one hit record for the Dolls/Ramones influences and bullshit Indiana street kid con to melt away into grand piano jerkoffs and Elton John pretensions involving cigarette holders, dolphins and mentally challenged supermodels.
VH-1 showed Metallica: Behind the Music last night and I started watching it again, and when James gets burned up by the pyro and Metallica couldn't finish their set in Montreal, Kirk says, referring to GNR, "they could have saved the day and been heroes by playing a blistering, triumphant 3 hour set." But, of course they didn't, though, because Rose threw some pre-meditated tantrum over his monitors and walked off the set leading to a swirling riot of pissed off canucks.
This part always kills me, and the disgust in Jason Newstead's voice when he talks about it says it all.
Newstead's pissed-off recognition/recounting of Rose's phoniness would make both Holden Caulfield and Paul Baloff proud.
Who needs rock stars?
At least it took Metallica a decade or so (depending on your perspective) to devolve into rich, out of touch assholes.
And even though I don't like their music anymore, their sonic evolution seems natural.
Damn, I meant to write about Black Oak more and then start talking about the James Gang and/or the second side of Rio Grande Mud...
More soon.
And wrestling
Midway through all this, while pondering a years in the making post making the case for Aerosmith as the second best American band of all time (behind the Ramones of course), I realized that all these other bands I've been checking out, recently, happen to be American as well.
This wasn't a pre-requisite or anything as I'm always searching for British stuff like Leafhound and all manners of weird, heaviness from all corners of the globe, it just happened that my recent finds and obsessions have originated here in the US and A.
I can't help but think of Dazed and Confused (number one priority of the summer: Aerosmith tickets!) when thinking of what it might have been like to catch some of these bands in their prime on a sweaty, Spring night.
One of the albums I've been listening to is Black Oak Arkansas's Raunch 'N Roll Live and I just get lost wondering, when it spins, about the sheer amount of sex and controlled substances that surely were exchanged before, during and after this show as authentic 70's sweat pours through Black Oak's triple guitar assault and out of my soggy speakers.
And I haven't even mentioned Jim Dandy yet!
His rap before "Hot Rod" should be enshrined in any sort of Hall of Fame way before Gene Simmons' wig and the team of producers, publicists, parasites and sycophants behind the product known as "Madonna."
Before Ozzy so heinously jumped the shark, I used to actually think it was a crime that anyone was in the Rock Hall of Fame before Sabbath. Now I'm just happy that Geezer, Tony and Bill got one fraction of the credit they so richly deserve for reshaping modern music infinitely for the better.
Back to Black Oak, I'd heard or read somewhere that 'Diamond' David Lee Roth modeled/stole his persona largely off of Jim Dandy. I can see that a little from a visual standpoint, but honestly when it comes to stealing from Mr. Dandy I detect way more theft and unpaid royalties emanating from, and owed by, Axl Rose.
Similarities between Black Oak and Guns n' Roses have been made explicit by sages as disparate as Chuck Eddy and Mike Prosser, but listening to jams like "Gigolo" and "Hot Rod" the connections really hit home.
There is a sort of primordial echo of the rickety, Marlboro and JD funk of "Mr. Brownstone" or "Rocket Queen" in the groove to "Gigolo." Although Chuck E. hears it more plainly in side 2's smokin' version of "Hot n' Nasty."
Tommy Aldridge lays down an almost subliminally solid, sometimes punishing foundation for all the washboard solos, preaching and fretboard firestorms.
The guitar playing on Raunch manages to strike a decent balance between flash and soul; something Slash was also usually able to achieve in his playing.
The mastermind behind one of my favorite bands in recent memory, Zeke's Blind Marky Felchtone, himself an Arkansas native and guitar dervish, is an unabashed Black Oak acolyte.
But there is a certain leering menace in the growl that Jim Dandy wielded like jester with a scythe and I definitely hear traces of it on Appetite for Destruction far more than on anything David Lee ever put his name to.
As an aside-
Let me just say that Axl Rose is the biggest sellout/poser that ever lived.
I'm not as embarrassed by my belief in the Easter Bunny, the existence of Kayfabe and all my relationship misadventures rolled into one as I am by being one of his marks in the early Appetite era.
I'm not even ashamed that I liked Bullet Boys...hell...those dudes jammed when I saw them at City Limits and their cover of "Hang on St. Christopher" is still decent.
Axl's the one I'd take back in a heartbeat.
All it took was one hit record for the Dolls/Ramones influences and bullshit Indiana street kid con to melt away into grand piano jerkoffs and Elton John pretensions involving cigarette holders, dolphins and mentally challenged supermodels.
VH-1 showed Metallica: Behind the Music last night and I started watching it again, and when James gets burned up by the pyro and Metallica couldn't finish their set in Montreal, Kirk says, referring to GNR, "they could have saved the day and been heroes by playing a blistering, triumphant 3 hour set." But, of course they didn't, though, because Rose threw some pre-meditated tantrum over his monitors and walked off the set leading to a swirling riot of pissed off canucks.
This part always kills me, and the disgust in Jason Newstead's voice when he talks about it says it all.
Newstead's pissed-off recognition/recounting of Rose's phoniness would make both Holden Caulfield and Paul Baloff proud.
Who needs rock stars?
At least it took Metallica a decade or so (depending on your perspective) to devolve into rich, out of touch assholes.
And even though I don't like their music anymore, their sonic evolution seems natural.
Damn, I meant to write about Black Oak more and then start talking about the James Gang and/or the second side of Rio Grande Mud...
More soon.
And wrestling
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