Tag Archives: McCartney

Remembering Chris Squire

Yes, going round and round and round…

A year has come and gone since the passing of Yes bassist Chris Squire, and his absence is palpable. I was lucky enough to see him twice, during the In The Round tour of 1978, supporting the Drama album, and then in 2013 in Massey Hall, Toronto.

Although I have been a fan of Yes since the mid 1970’s I never truly appreciated the enormous musical power provided by Squire and his road-worn Rickenbacker.

Whereas many bass players are content to stand back and drive the bus, Squire was never in the background, literally or musically. His enormous persona dominated the live stage. He strode around like a Tolkien giant, conducting his band mates and the audience simultaneously, alternately scowling in concentration and then beaming with satisfaction.

But it was his virtuosity as a musician that was really head and shoulders above most of his contemporaries. For Yes, the bass was never just an device that delivered the bottom end of a tune. Squire played it as a full instrument, delivering lines and counter melodies in exquisite harmonies – often minor – to those being played by the equally fiery fingers of the other brilliant musicians who were part of the lineup at one time or another.

Squire played bass the way Bach wrote his fugues. Melodies crossed over each other with force, yet with delicate balance. I would love to have been a fly on the wall in the recording studio, watching the collective genius of Squire, Howe, Anderson et al as they pieced together their tunes.

I am also fascinated by successful musicians like Squire who hang on to the same guitar for decades, as he did with his cream colored Rickenbacker. Like so many others, he had the money and pretty much every instrument manufacturer on the planet eager to give him a guitar or ten to play and endorse, And yes, he did have a few of those. But above it all, he stayed with his 1965 Rickenbacker, through re-paintings, neck shavings and even the odd piece on it that didn’t work. I love that. Andy Summers of the Police and his beat-up double coil Telecaster; Sir Paul and his Hofner Beatlebass. Brian May’s Red Special. It’s wonderful when these people stick with their favorite instrument like an old sweater, even in spite of the carefully made replicas available.

There is some fabulous pro-shot footage of Yes playing live in 2002, which shows the band in top form. Everyone seems to be smiling, and the chemistry between Squire and drummer Alan White seems to be extremely strong. They close with I’ve Seen All Good People, and the show is made even more powerful by the presence of the awesome Contemporary Youth Orchestra. Here’s the link to YouTube.

With Squire’s untimely passing, the band has moved into a new edition, with longtime sideman Billy Sherwood taking on the task of filling Squire’s enormous shoes, again, both literally and metaphorically.

There are sadly very few bassists who are recognized for their virtuosity, stepping over that line from fancy bass work to actual composition. Sir Paul is one, certainly, Geddy Lee, absolutely, and Les Claypool. I find the hallmark of great music to be something you can play over and over again and never tire of it. In large part due to the sophisticated layering of so many great musicians, much of the Yes catalog fits into that category, thanks to the genius of Mr. Chris Squire.

 

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Why I Admire Performers Like Mariah Carey

Mariah Carey

Mariah Carey

To be honest, I have never given Mariah Carey much thought. As an aging rocker raised on Elton John, Paul McCartney and U2, I have certainly experienced my share of glamorous musicians and diva antics, but I have never had much time for warbling femme-fatales, and so she, along with Celine Dion and Beyoncé have always been kept in a soundproof box in the back of my mind. To be fair, I admire any entertainer who can stand up in front of a crowd and wow them, regardless of the type of music they perform, so I never went so far as to say mean things about them. Its just that the specific tone of their singing never appealed to me. OK, maybe Cher once in a while, but I have always preferred female performers with a little more of a gruff edge, like Melissa Etheridge and Susan Tedeschi, and a little less time spent in the makeup chair. This (photo upper-right) is how I have always understood Mariah Carey to look. I figured this was probably actually her passport photo, given how glamorous she is.

So it amazed me when I saw her in one of the best movies I have ever seen, Precious, by Lee Daniels. This is a tough movie to watch. It is gritty, brutal and extremely memorable. The performance by Gabourey Sidibe was stellar, but in my opinion the show was completely stolen by Mo’Nique, who is better known as a comedienne.

Mo’Nique played a real SOB of a mom. A TV-addicted welfare case who treated her daughter worse than dirt. And it is only (SPOILER ALERT) during her tour-de-fource scene at the end of the film do you truly find out why. Her character was not a pretty character, but Mo’Nique played it well.

Mariah Carey was in this movie too. She played the social worker who sought to understand and fix the problems in Precious’s life. And she looked like this.

Also Mariah Carey

Also Mariah Carey

No makeup. No big hair. No radiant skin. She looked like every other 9-to-5 schmoe out there who has a job to do, but who doesn’t really like it very much.

I find it extremely admirable when beautiful celebrities shed their skin and reveal to the world that beneath it all, they are still one of us. They weren’t born looking like Halle Berry (OK, maybe Halle Berry was). They were lucky enough to make it big in a vicious industry where most fall away, and their product is big, wonderful excessive enormousness.

So I salute both Mariah Carey and Mo’Nique for taking what some might consider a big risk in appearing on the big screen in all their plain normality. To me this only makes them more beautiful.

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What if John Lennon had lived?

John LennonI was sitting in a Starbucks recently and a track from John Lennon’s Double Fantasy came over the restaurant’s sound system. I was 15 years old when that album came out, and had already been a Beatles/Lennon fan for a decade. I remember how that album, from the first three bell tones of its first hit single Just Like Starting Over seemed to herald a new age for this brilliant songwriter. Clean and sober, ready to literally start over, ready to share his remarkable talents with the world once again.

Lennon seemed to possess a triple threat as a songwriter: brilliant wordplay combined with enormous tenderness, as well as the ability to create memorable hooks or riffs that guaranteed permanent implant into a listener’s ears and heart.

His death happened long before the age of social media or even cellphones. In an era when newspapers and television reigned, expressions of regret over his death came from all corners of the globe, even from the dark interiors of the Soviet Union, an unheard-of connection with the West which presaged the fall of the Berlin Wall and of the Soviet system itself. It showed just how pervasive beautiful music actually was; to penetrate the darkest, most oppressive areas of the world, to flourish among its people.

Obviously the songwriting team of Lennon & McCartney produced a dizzying collection of monster hits, any one of which most bands would trade their souls to claim as their own. And Sir Paul has continued to thrive, creating beautiful pop tunes, and entertaining well into his seventh decarde.

But Lennon had a deeper, more introspective style. He seemed able to touch people with his poetry, cynicism, and his message of peace in a way that went beyond music itself. Dare I say that his approach was on par with the peaceful “non-action” actions of people such as Gandhi and Mandela. Yes, these men suffered much more, but all three changed the world through non-violence and sheer charisma.

Others have come along to attempt to fill the Lennon shoes: Bono comes to mind. Yet for all of  Bono’s star power, there seems to be something essentially corporate about him. He has the power to flirt with world leaders, he speaks at Davos, and can look the Pope in the eye, but he seems, at least to this observer, to still be one of them. Lennon was never one of them. How would the various leaders of the world’s countries and multinationals have responded to his political fearlessness?

How different would the world be if Lennon had not been taken from us?

Take 9/11, for example. For such a tragedy to unfold right in the middle of Lennon’s beloved adopted hometown. What tune could he have written? What call for global peace could have been wrung from his soul to match and exceed the magnitude of this carnage? I believe the world would by now have a new and universal anthem for peace, had he had the chance to write it; a magnum opus from a man dedicated to non violence.

And what of any additional work with McCartney? There is no doubt they would have come back together. The world would have demanded it.

Of course I could be totally wrong. Maybe he would have turned into a parody of himself, botoxed, facelifted, and unwilling to let go of his youth, like Steven Tyler.  Maybe he would have matured into a genteel older version of himself, like Sting or Peter Gabriel. Or maybe he would have died anyway, from something natural or unnatural. But had he been able to have stayed with us, his words and art would still have to come out. He would have been a force to be reckoned with, creatively, socially, politically and musically.

He left behind both towering achievements and an indefinable void, with the rest of us just wondering what might have been.

 

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Ike Turner’s Pantsuit is in Beijing

The Bar at the Hard Rock Café, Beijing

The Bar at the Hard Rock Café, Beijing

Just got back from a trip to Beijing – a wild place – the biggest city I have ever seen – glass high-rises form the canyon walls, eight-lane streets from the canyon floors, and they extend in every direction. In Beijing, drivers use the gas-pedal-and-horn technique. No braking. Cars slip in and out of lanes like fish moving around  a coral reef, and if there’s no room to park on the street, then they park on the pavement.

A welcome respite from the furious, progress-tinged pace of Chinese life is the Hard Rock Café, located sort of up-and-to-the-right of the Forbidden City, nestled in a grove of upscale Western hotels, not too far from Embassy row. As fascinating as Chinese life is, the Café is a wonderful oasis, where the music of Elvis, The Pretenders and the Stray Cats complement onion rings, burgers and (gasps with delight) Guinness. The large central area has a stage, already set up with drums, guitars and mikes. And around the walls are the glass cases containing guitars from McCartney’s Wings, Tom Petty, and Prince, just to name a few. One-piece outfits belonging to Elvis, Ike Turner and even Fred from the B-52’s stand silently in glass cases, and there’s even a row of signed drumheads.

I guess the Hard Rock is like Starbucks for the musically inclined: a consistent customer experience that varies little from city to city. Beijing is a fabulous place, especially if you like high speed and crowds, which I do, but I tell you, two hours at the Hard Rock was an oasis of the cool, beautiful glamour of Rock, Soul, Blues and Motown.

Hard Rock Café Memorabilia

Hard Rock Café Memorabilia

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