Wednesday, July 19, 2017

The reason...

Lately, I have been slacking on writing. The reason? I am taking a course on American Popular Music, and it fills my music writing void for the time being. It's been really fun, and I have learned a few new tidbits...

There are, however, some ingrained opinions no higher learning course can change. My dislike of a certain few acts worshipped by others always turn some heads, but I am unyielding. I have no issue throwing caution to the wind. Hate away if you must:

1. Grateful Dead: I just don't get it, and no amount of explaining will make me understand. They blow. BLOW.

2. Bob Dylan:
A great poet and lyricist, I'll admit that, but his music annoys the Jesus out of me. I suck bad too, so I hope that I can amass a cult same as Bobby.

3. Aerosmith:
Maybe 2 good albums worth of material. Maybe... That includes "Pump" and the first Joe Perry Project. I change the channel if anything but "Toys in the Attic" comes on. It's a hard truth.

4. Type O Negative:
RIP and all of that, but good lord, I don't get it. Loving this band is like loving the suck. Why was it ever vogue to think them amazballs is beyond me. A channel change happens no faster than when Type O finds its way onto my radio. Word.

I have one more beef to piss off the masses. How in the hell people still let the Roth era Van Halen off the hook for the shite they spewed between VH1 and 1984 is ludicrous. They ripped off the fans. The 4 L.P.s between 1978 and 1984 are so bad, it would be hard to amass enough good material for 1 SOLID album. Your argument about shit like "Take your whisky home" is nonsense. Covers don't count either.

I was 9 when 1984 came out. I am an expert study on many things rock (in my own head) and I believe 1984, as a work of pop art, is amazing, but 5150 is better. 

This rant is brought to you by my 7 hours in a car today listening to the radio. Top moments:

DRE : 2001
Body Count: Bloodlust
Nailbomb: Point Blank
Baroness: Purple
Dying Fetus: WOTFW

Nago

Tuesday, June 6, 2017

1986 in Erie (still).

Some of my people in Southwestern PA have a running joke about the local bar scene: it's always 1975 in Pittsburgh. It's a bad analogy on musical interests, basically saying most yinzers still listen to rock radio bands like Skynrd, Yes, Eagles, and Pink Floyd. It's not, not true. Just exaggerated. To be fair, there are plenty of Tesla fans here too. I heard Modern Day Cowboy at the 412 Bar and Grill last week.

Today I opened up an article about my hometown's 2017 version of the infamous Roar on the Shore, and discovered it's always 1986 in Erie. A double take was done.

It is refreshing to see Great White and Tom Keifer are playing consecutive nights for the festivities. If anyone cares, Great White is probably not Jack Russell's Great White (an entirely separate band). No, it's probably Mark Kendal's Great White, which is technically still Great White I guess. As for Tom's show, I wonder if Jeff LaBarr is pissed at him for billing himself as Tom Keifer of Cinderella? I would still pay to see Tom Keifer, for free... Ummm...

Also slated to play is Molly Hatchet. Danny Joe Brown has been dead for over a decade, but hey, it's still Molly Hatchet. Believe it or not, it's a band I've personally seen 3 times, just not since 1990, never without Danny Joe Brown, and never Hlubeks version of the band. I'm sure it's still badass.

I want to see all three. I'm considering crashing on my sister's floor for a weekend to come home and relive some youth. Up until this announcement, my biggest hair nostalgia "want" this year was the Tracii Guns / Phil Lewis reunited LA Guns (not the scabby Steve Riley version, which also featured Phil Lewis up until Dec of last year, weird, confusing, shite you can't make up) at Jergels on August 5th.

All of the above are examples of what eventually happens to working musicians from nostalgic bands. They have to make a living, and resign themselves to endless touring cycles living off of former glory. It does get a little silly when bands, especially 80's bands, have multiple versions out there competing for a limited headcount. But I've always maintained that if a musician can make a living off of music, they should, even if there are 2 Ratts, 2 Great Whites, 2 Queensryches, 2 LA Guns, and God knows what else exists. Are there 2 Bang Tangos?

In keeping current, I may go see Dawes this weekend at the 3 Rivers Arts Fest. I'll call that the Yawn on the Lawn, but I'm all about some free music.

I'm 15 again this year folks. Life is always good, but this year, it's mid-life good.

Nago

Wednesday, May 24, 2017

For (all of) your eyes only.

 
I've heard other Bond fans admit it recently, AMC went on record with it a few year ago, but my heart had always known: For Your Eyes Only is Roger Moore's best Bond film.
 
I actually remember how easily sucked in I became at the opening sequence. Bond picks up a bald man in a wheelchair with the leg of a helicopter, and drops him down a smoke stack! I was hooked. The cars were amazing, the watch was cooler than anything I had ever seen, ski chases, underwater cool stuff, world traveling, a true player, sarcastic, British James mutha effin Bond. My mind was blown.
 
I was probably too young to be watching this flick, but, if y'all remember, back in the day, cable boxes were zip dial, orange back lit, manual contraptions that sat on top of our 25" Curtis Mathis consol Tv's. we all had such limited movie channel choices that we became captive audiences to the HBO programmers fancy. That is how I came to see the 1981 spy thriller.
 
Much like today, HBO and other premium channels would show movies from a recent theatrical run, but the choices were limited and the distance between the film's release and it's airing on cable would typically be a year or so. Watching HBO, at that time, could be mysterious unless you actually tuned into the tedious scrolling program guide.
 
According to GuideArchive.com, For Your Eyes Only aired heavily in the summer of 1982 on HBO. My grandpap had HBO, and I happened to live there at the time. It was a perfect storm for my almost 8 year old mind. Typically, PG movies would run during the day, and I believe I probably saw it in the morning. Even back then I was an early riser, the best part of which allowed me to watch stuff my annoying sisters would never tolerate in the later hours of any given day. Worse than Kerry and Katy was my grandmother, Eva. Eva had a monopoly on the Televison from 9AM till 5 PM during the weekdays. Donahue, Game Shows, and Soap Operas were not to be disturbed. We were required to leave her house each, only to return for one of three reasons:
A. Lunch
B. Supper
C. Streetlights came on
 
After a chance viewing of For Your Eyes Only, I immediately turned an old playing card into an imaginary code key card, and pretended to swipe my way into doorways, entering made up numeric sequences into pretend number pads along the way.
 
My love of Bond started there, and even though the series lost me for a few minutes during the Brosnan era, I was able to look backward at Connery and what made the franchise great to begin with.
 
For years I have told people my favorite Bond film is the 1969 epic phucking movie Thunderball, but in truth, my heart belongs to For Your Eyes Only. Roger Moore was my Bond for my young mind.

RIP Mr. Moore, and thank you. Maybe tonight I will try to hunt down the Seiko worn in the film?
 
On a footnote, watch for a young Tywinn Lannister in the ski chase scene, later he takes an arrow on the beach. Yeah, it's that's cool. Word
 
Nago
 
Nagos Nerd Alert will return in James Bonding with Theme Songs.

Friday, May 19, 2017

Sweet Sunshower


I wake up, open FB, and the first headline is something regarding Jimmy Page making a statement about Chris Cornell. I thought "who cares what Jimmy thinks of Chris.... wait." I panic, and dig deeper. I read the headline, and my heart sinks. All I can say is "wow." I am beyond disbelief, we lose rock stars all the time, but Chris meant something to me way beyond Bowie or Prince. Chris was the best voice of my generation. He spoke directly to the 18 year old Nago from Erie, PA.

I can't remember the first time I heard him. Probably the Singles movie soundtrack, maybe Temple of the Dog? What I do remember is how good Badmotorfinger is. Rusty Cage and Jesus Christ Pose are tattooed into my DNA. I heard Sabbath, I heard Zeppelin, I heard soul, and some controlled chaos with progressive timing.

I was early 20's or so when Soundgarden ruled the world. It was an awkward, yet rewarding time for me. I was pretty newly married, had kids and was already working for the company I have spent my entire adult life with. My inner circle was small (not much has changed there), but we all took care of each other for the most part. There was a huge portion of me that wished I could have been a part of my generation, but obligations made me take a back seat to scenes and parties. Soundgarden was a bridge for me. I loved their approach, their style, and their vocals. In a post thrash mainstream, Soundgarden was Metal in a sea of bullshit.

My son Mocha may not remember this, but his favorite song, from the time he could recite it, was Rusty Cage. He would sing that joker all the dayum time. Angie and I were proud of what we had created, even then.

Angie was the first person to text me today about Chris. I'm not surprised. We had that connection in our past life together. I knew she was probably hurting over this one too... And there it is, It really hurts. The next person was my old friend Bedo. Yeah, he feels exactly the same, and told me to get writing. I was not sure if I could. I am not sure if I am doing it any justice.

A voice silenced. One of the purest voices I've ever heard. One of my favorite voices, period. I am glad I had the chance to hear you perform. RIP.

Looking California, feeling Minnesota,

Nago

Monday, May 1, 2017

Rewatch... Rockstar.


In a fit of insomnia, I re-watched Rockstar. It's really stupid, but still pretty good fun.
If you were not exposed to 80's Metal the way I was, you probably wouldn't understand why this movie hits home. From a local band taking itself too seriously, to a overblown popular band way too full of itself, this movie gets a few things right. It suffers from the Hollywood treatment, and feels like one big montage after another at times, but watching Marky Mark lip sync "We All Die Young" is pure gold.

"And we all, die young!" What a good representation of late 80's metal songwriting. I say late 80's because the early and mid 80's had way less formulation. Compare an earlier big opus, maybe the 1983 Krokus song, Screaming in the Night, or an earlier power ballad, like the 1982 underrated track titled simply The Ballad by the lesser known Australian band Heaven. Songs of the earlier lot were a bit more raw than the over produced, bleeding heart metal of 88 through 92.

We All Die Young sounds like a song Steelheart could have done well, if a producer could have reigned in their vocalist to not sing in an octave only dogs  could hear. I need to check wiki and see who actually sings the song...

Ha! It's actually Steelheart. Wow. That is phucking funny. I never knew the producers dipped into existing Chest Hair Metal to find the perfect soundtrack for the movie.

I shouldn't be too surprised by the connection. It is BIG Hair Metal. An equally good choice for the movie would have been Hardline's Hot Cherie from 1992. Both songs are great examples of what Hair Metal was becoming. Like it or not, musically they are both stellar. Less about Hair, more about writing great rock songs?

You may have asked yourself at some point, why is Nago nerding out to a 16 year old movie at 5 AM? Because insomnia, and I do what I want. The truth: I needed something light hearted to take my mind off of Chris Cornell. Typically I'd just turn on the news and watch the continuing shit show that is modern American politics, but even that is losing its comedic value lately.

Make a Hair Metal playlist. Include We all Die Young and Hot Cherie. I promise it will get you moving. Avoid Way Cool JR, anything by Bang Tango, and don't even think about Fire House.

Good morning and Happy Friday.

Nago

Wednesday, April 26, 2017

On the Seventh day.

My brother Louie recently posted a Paul Elliott article from Classic Rock, Is Heaven and Hell Black Sabbaths Finest Hour? I read the article, and absolutely understand why someone would make that statement. It is a very fine hour indeed, just not for Black Sabbath.

I would argue this is not a Sabbath record at all.

When we are all gone and the world looks back at our generation, explaining post Ozzy Sabbath won't even be much of a footnote. They were the creators, the guys that started it all. In hindsight, history will only discuss one true Black Sabbath. No one will care about the 5th bass player or that one guy who kinda sounds like the other guy (with all due respect to Tony Martin).

Ozzy and Sharon got it right when they made Iommi change the name. It truly is something else entirely, and deserves its own accolades. Heaven and Hell and Mob Rules may be Dio's finest hour. It is absolutely Iommi's finest hour. A directional shift away from blues based horror rock, and overhaul into a completely separate entity. His playing is phenomenal, and the writing is watershed.

I have always felt calling Iommi's bands post Ozzy, Black Sabbath, is a discredit to the original band, and calling "Heaven and Hell" "Black Sabbath" is just not accurate. Especially in hindsight. I will give Tony credit for keeping it somewhat barely alive after Dio, but as someone who was there, Iommi seemed to be lost from a fans perspective. Sabbath wasn't chasing the Ozzy years during the 80's, they were chasing the Dio material, and save a few memorable tracks, not doing it justice.

I look at Sabbath as 4 bands. Black Sabbath, Heaven and Hell, Red Devil Baby, and Headless Cross.

Heaven and Hell was an amazing band and probably my favorite of the 4. Dio/Iommi/Geezer/Bill/Vinnie made two amazing records in the 80's, and showed the world how metal should sound.

Rip Ronnie.

On and on. And on. And on.

Nago.

Tuesday, March 14, 2017

Ocean Born

I have been writing about the songwriting process, off and on, for a long time. I leave hints at being a songwriter on occasion as well. The reality of writing, for me, is that I never stop learning and evolving. If anyone asks what my best work is, I usually say "the next one."

This is the story of the evolution of my latest work: Ocean Born.

This song has had me perplexed for months. It started as an idea, 2 chords, and a lyric. The idea was to write about a codependent relationship. The chords were G and C, and the lyric was about drinking too much tequila. The issue was that I couldn't get past the starting line. I hovered there for months thinking "will this song ever flow?"

The struggle was visionary and structural. I don't really wish to come across as promoting a drunken lifestyle. However, for the sake of the song, it almost needed start there.

I had some early help with a friend who has assisted me in the past with concepts, but we wrote it on the fly, and I was not convinced the treatment was true to how I felt. After writing the first draft, the question came up: does this work as a codependent song? Is that really where it needed to go, or could I take advice and lighten up? It almost seemed too dark. My gut was saying "rewrite."

The next issue was in the chord selection and strum pattern. There is nothing special about a G,C,G pattern, but the original sounded too familiar. I am still not completely sure what it sounded like, but it was definitely something. After strumming around, I instead chose a  more natural (to me) strum and moved the C chord to a slightly generic D/F#. It felt a little better that way. I also added a little ear candy to the riff to break up the monotony.

From there I need to actually structure the verses. This was a huge struggle. I actually liked the words I had already written, but again, for the sake of the song, I knew I needed to get over myself and re-write. Originally, there were references to sleeping through church (due to hangover), lines about leaving a lonely girl alone (had to be modified), and many other lyrical quips I slaved over.

So, conceptually, I messed around and settled on an old idea. Everyone I know, at one time or another, has thought about living at the beach. I even had a title, Ocean Born (lifted from a Nightwish LP, Oceanborn ). I liked the idea of using the title as symbolizing a new beginning.

I probably asked too many opinions about this song early on, but I did find them valuable. I did not want to settle. The issue is that others will hardwire an unfinished work as gospel for a minute. It eventually corrects itself with time. I may continue to ask for opinions, as it pushed me to really work out a complete concept versus just another bleeding heart cry for attention.  The result, for me, is a story of hope.

The chorus, and its country fried Thunder Road concept, solidified the message of hope. The cherry on top was accidentally pulling a stop/start pattern by muting all the strings. Its something I have unconsciously done for years, but I recognize its potential after learning an acoustic version of Brantley Gilbert's Bottoms Up. Its a pretty solid effect when placing emphasis on a lyric.

This song was inspired by modern country music, there is no doubt. I am learning new things from paying attention. There seems to always be a conceptual noun or phrase a song is written around. It's very counciously done in Country. I maybe did this in the past, but it was more about feeling, and if a concept emerged, great. I can be a bit more of a storyteller than a romantic writing this way, and its opening my mind to new ways to hone this craft. The use of the word "Country" was planned, and executed, because I needed to give a middle finger to my beloved peeps busting my balls about "going country," and a nod to the genre inspiring it. Also, I do what the hell I want.

Play Me Daisy, my last dive into this genre, was a bit the same. However, I was absolutely writing that song from my gut for my friend and fellow songwriter, Mary Lou Scherder. I was engrossed in massive amounts of Punch Brothers at the time also, which is probably why it sounds bluegrassy. I look at Play Me Daisy and Ocean Born as equals and opposites, but maybe my coolest acoustic work to date (in my mind). They both are rewarding in the challenge of how they made me push my limits.

In conclusion, I feel like a new LP is inevitable, and these two songs will act as cornerstones. If they are any indication of things to follow, I am really gonna love the next song, which I hope will be my best song.

Nago