I rode the elevator up to work this morning with some dude who was blasting Motley Crue on his headphones. I did not know that people still listened to that crap. Rock on, dude.

I recently read “Dark Star: The Roy Orbison Story” (Carol Publishing Group, 1990) by Ellis Amburn. All in all, it was a very average account of an above average rock - n - roller's life. I read a ton of these music business biographies and this one did nothing to distinguish itself from the pack. The book was mediocre except for one anecdote.

Roy Orbison would not attend his brother's funeral because "Roy didn't like illness and sick people. " (Amburn, 172) I thought that was funny because of the matter of fact way that the author stated it. Roy Orbison lost two sons and a wife to a fire. He had disease and tragedy follow him throughout his life and he was uncomfortable around sickness. I thought that was weird to even mention. Who likes sickness? The author did not paint Roy Orbison as some sort of neurotic holed up in a sterile isolation chamber. He was just a man who did not like "illness and sick people". That struck me as odd - not the sentiment but the cold as a weather report way that he mentioned it.

I, like Roy Orbison, do not like "illness and sick people". With cold and flew season upon us, I thought it would be appropriate to enter this plea on behalf of all germaphobes attending this fine institution.

If you are sick then stay home. You are sick. You have earned a day in bed. Do you know what is worse than infecting me with your crud? Sniffling and coughing in my ear constantly during class. After five minutes of listening to you clear your throat, I feel as if my head is going to explode. Sniff. Sniff. Sniff. I once, in the seventh grade, punched Pete Peters (not his real name - he is an ex - marine who could kick my ass if he remembered this) in the face during religion class after listening to him suck snot for a half an hour. I can not take it. I will stab you with my pen if you forget your Hall's. I am sorry.

Let's say that my career as Ozzy's biographer does not pan out and I can't even make it as a garden variety rock scribe, what am I going to do with myself for the rest of my life? I can't go back to the square straight civilian life after getting a taste of the power and celebrity that the “Cauldron” offers its scribblers. I have no actual job skills. Life looks scary. I play drums and like to write beats and lyrics. Here is my back up plan - rapper. MC White E. I bet the record labels will be ringing my phone off the hook when they get a taste of my talent.

But where do I start?

In the world of punk, there are plenty of opportunities for would be Johnny Rottens to develop some skills while waiting for David Geffen to fly him out to Los Angeles for a private audition. Where do the aspiring rapper or DJ go when they are just getting started? Are there any clubs that open their stage doors to young MCs (youthful, not "bust a move")? If you are rocker with a half assed demo and a few friends, you can be a regular at the Grog Shop, Symposium, or Euclid Tavern before you learn how to tune a guitar. I want to rap. Where do I get gigs?

The touring hip hop musician barely exists today. And considering how total hip hop's domination is over the Billboard charts, I can't understand why hip hoppers do not hit the road in any great number. The Smoking Grooves Tour, Wu - Tang Clan opening for Rage Against the Machine, a token rapper on Lollapalooza, and the occasional package tour with each act getting about fifteen minutes of stage time are examples of the limited exposure that the Cleveland audience gets of live hip hop. Is it like this all over the country?

The rappers that I have seen perform live (on TV) with the exception of the Fugees, the Roots, and A Tribe Called Quest were totally weak. I do not need to see MC Suck Wad lip sync to the extended remix of his last video while his DJ pretends to do something while listening to one ear of his headphone. A decade ago, the DJ would cut an instrumental version, not just playa DAT tape, of the song live on stage. I saw A Tribe Called Quest's Ali Shaheed Muhammad cut "Check the Rhime" live. It was cool. The song was longer with more breaks and freestyles. There was a sense of spontaneity that you can not get with taped backing tracks. Hip Hop needs to learn to do it live again. Back to the bars.

A couple of acts are going to do just that at Peabody's this Wednesday, January 21st. Common, formerly known as Common Sense until a California reggae group with the same name that nobody has ever heard of before or since brought suit over the copyright, is taking it to the streets to promote his new album, “One Day it Will All Make Sense” (Relativity). Common was last heard on Resurrection (Relativity, 1994) which established him as one of the premier rappers of the underground. Common is still going against the gangster grain. His lyrics touch on subjects like abortion and God with sensitivity not found in most of today's big ballers. His sentiments on the fallen state of hip hop, like most of his peers who get the alternative hip hop hippy tag, are trite but at least he is not going on and on about how much of a player he is. The beats on the record, provided by No I. D., are above average and the cuts by Mista Sinista are good and plentiful.

"Reminding Me (of Sef)", the single off of the record is a half way decent attempt at commercial R&B tinged hip hop. Just OK. The B side, "1 2 Many... ", is a somewhat funny rap on hip hop's current woes. Guest appearances by Lauryn Hill of the Fugees, De La Soul, and Q - Tip give Common a sense of place in the rap business and can give you an idea of his style. "Making a Name for Ourselves", a battle style cut featuring Canibus, is the highlight of the record and has got me looking forward to the Canibus solo record due later this winter.

DJ Mista Sinista is also a part of the X - ecutioners who are also on the Peabody's bill. The X - ecutioners record, X - pressions (Asphodel), is a strong effort of mostly instrumental hip hop. The X - ecutioners are four DJs with eight turntables - each guy taking a different part of the song. I love beats and can listen to scratching all night. This record is new in style but classic hip hop in intent. The beats and breaks are great and the guest vocal appearances do not get in the way of this turntable attack.

Hopefully, both of these acts are a taste of the shape of things to come. There would be nothing I would like to see more than a steady flow of bar sized hip hop acts streaming through the clubs of Cleveland. I am really curious as to why the live part of rap seems dead. Am I not looking in the right places for it? I am certainly open to suggestions from the “Cauldron” readers as to where I should look. Do I need to start booking hip hop shows myself? I guess that means I could open the show.

(1998)

posted by Thea at 9:50 PM

June 28, 2002

I can say that the Beatles, the Rolling Stones and the Kinks were better bands than the Who in my head. And I can tell you that I listen to Black Sabbath and Led Zeppelin more now. But no band has ever meant as much to me as the Who did when I was in tenth and eleventh grade. They were everything to me. They almost single handedly got me through the worst period of my life. For that, I will be forever grateful.

I have almost cried a couple of times in the past day. Not because I am particularly upset at the passing of the coolest motherfucker to ever stand on stage with a bass guitar not named Lemmy. Death does not surprise, shock or sadden me. People die. That is part of life. The problem is that another part of my life that I value is gone and there is nothing that will ever replace it. Everything I love or care about disappears and there is never anything new to take its place. I am not going to fall in love ever again. And once something that I do love is gone, it is gone. That is why I feel like crying.


Instead of writing a year end review of all the big budget records that were released in 1997, I thought I would give some credit to the numerous weekend warriors that litter the bars of Cleveland all nights of the year. I have been involved in the Cleveland rock - n - roll underground for the last decade. I have seen many sides of the business as a roadie, performer, agent, manager, and micro indie label boss. It is not an easy vocation if you care about music. I have tons of horror stories concerning the fierce battle that a up and coming musician faces in an attempt to get some attention. I have played to the bartender, the soundwoman, and my girlfriend at 1 a.m. on a Monday night at the Daily Double in Akron. We played our whole set.

All of the records reviewed below were released by bands who call Cleveland home in last year. I am assuming that most, if not all, of these records have gone unheard by the “Cauldron's” readers. I know why. Nobody buys these records because they do not sound like records that are heard on the radio. They do not sound like records that are played on the radio because the bands or labels involved do not have enough money to make them sound like records that you hear on the radio because nobody buys these records. That is not to say that these releases are not without there merit. I will guarantee you that there is a better chance that I will be listening to Nines Shocks Terror long after the Matchbox 20 are a faint bad memory.

If you are a local musician and you want some press, send your hard work to me care of the “Cauldron”. I feel your pain. If your band released a record in 1997 and it is not mentioned here then: 1. I did not hear your record. Theses damn things are hard to find with no promotion. 2. Your record did not rock. There have been strict standards set up by many committees over several years that call the shots around here. I am subject to their bureaucratic whims. I am sorry.

Also, it is worth mentioning that there are many great bands that are not mentioned in this column because they did not release a record in 1997. Hopefully, they will have a more productive 1998. I know it is hard.

The Aggravators – “It's All for Fun” - 7 "ep (Sonic Swirl. POB 770303. Lakewood, OH 44107). This record is the Aggravators third 7" in the last couple of years on the Sonic Swirl label. They also covered "I Do" on the Pagans tribute record that was released by Sonic Swirl in 1997 too. The Pagans cover should give you a good idea of what the Aggravators are about - classic sounding punk rock - n - roll. The Aggravators are one of the good bands who play this increasing popular and totally irrelevant style of music. That was a crack but this band is still good.

Boulder - “555” - 10"ep (Flexovit Records Inc. POB 99714. Cleveland, OH 44107). I found this record at the HMV in the Southpark Mall in Strongsville. That was odd for two reasons. One is that mall stores do not carry vinyl and the other is that the cover is super offensive to most God fearing people. I saw this record on the calendar rack and, after washing out my eyes and offering up a prayer for salvation to whoever designed the cover, bought it. Guess what? The devil factor wins again. The record is a six song heavy metal blast that will have little sisters running away in fear. Boulder is not ashamed to guitar solo. Yes. A holiday trip back to the HMV found no more Boulder on the shelves. I will bet you five dollars that they did not sell all of them. One of my top five records, period, of 1997.
Disengage – “Teeth. Heart, and Tail” CD only (Cambodia Recordings. 16013 Waterloo Road, Suite 406. Cleveland, OH 44110). The smart money is betting on Disengage to be the one band from Cleveland to have some sort of commercial potential in the business. Capitol Records have all ready given this band some dough. Disengage seem to be able to unite the underground and popular factions of the Cleveland rock scene. That is important if you want success. The CD is solid modem rock with a post hardcore flavor. They remind me of the Rollins Band. (It's the singer) They are good. When they are on the bill of a local show, I do not go outside during their set. I have listened to this CD more than once.

Guided By Voices – “I am a Tree” - 7"ep (Matador Records. 625 Broadway. New York, NY 10012). The best record put out by Bob Pollard and his backing band, Cobra Verde, out of the several released by them in 1997 was this single written by Cleveland's own Doug Gillard. "I am a Tree" is from the album “Mag Earwig” (Matador). The album was good but, overall, it lacked the fantastic punch of this single. The Cobra Verde/Guided By Voices merger has been one of the few Cleveland success stories that has had any impact on the national scene. We, as loyal patriots, should be proud.

Hangnail – “Sexually Oriented” - 7"ep (Hibachi Records. 497 Owego Street. Painsville, OH 44077). The third record from Hangnail and the third from Hibachi is the best that either of theses organizations have released yet. Hangnail is a three piece 80s style hardcore band lead by the charming Thugbad who was the author of the anthem "Rathole" made famous by the H100s. This record has 10 short songs of fast thrash. I will assume that Hangnail is against whatever I am for but that did not prevent me from loving this record.

Integrity – “A Taste of Every Sin” - CD only (Holy Terror Church of the Final Judgement. POB 770213. Lakewood, OH 44107). I have been hearing rumors that this Cleveland institution is calling it quits after a decade of rock. I refuse to believe it. Integrity is on my list of the top five bands that ever graced the "Comeback City". Integrity's debut album, “For Those Who Fear Tomorrow” (Overkill), is a hardcore classic. Integrity's influence is so great that the roster of their current label, Victory Records, goes out of its way to sign new bands that sound exactly like Integrity. The situation at Victory is similar, to the Beatles signing Badfinger to be on Apple. Integrity's influence is not limited to Victory Records. The hardcore and metal scenes as a whole owe a bit of thanks to this group. Amen. Integrity had a very active 1997. A new LP, “Seasons in the Size of Days” (Victory), and a few split singles came out as well as a career spanning collection, “A Taste of Every Sin” (Holy Terror), my pick for their best of 1997. The CD is a compilation of various out of print material that originally appeared only on limited edition vinyl. The CD includes the single version of the song "ATF Assault" with the introduction by Lemmy of Motorhead that is the best ever.

Nine Shocks Terror – “Earth. Wind, and Sheik Throwing” - 7"ep (River on Fire Records. POB 771296. Lakewood, OH 44107). This record is the debut of longtime﷓members-in﷓good﷓standing Cleveland punk Tony Erba's new combo. Everybody in the group, minus the vocalist, was the H - 100s. They had a handful of excellent records that you should hear. Good luck finding them. Nine Shocks Terror is a great continuation of the hardcore path followed by the H - 100s. Steve, the new singer, a mild mannered, good natured citizen of earth by day transforms into wild, screaming, punk rock madman when he gets on the mic. He is great and so is the rest of the band. Nine Shocks Terror rock.

The Revelers – “Silver Ship” - 7"ep (Break﷓Up! Records. 91 East Patterson. Columbus, OH 43202). This review is probably a conflict of interest since this is the one record that my name is a part of the credits. I mismanage the Revelers. I do not want to use this space as an advertisement for my own interests so I will keep it short. This record, a fine example of rock – n - roll, is a teaser from an upcoming album on spinArt that will be released in March. The current issue of Punk Planet describes this record as "like the Beach Boys with bad songwriting". Of course, I disagree, but that should give you an idea of what it sounds like besides me simply saying it rocks. The Revelers are rock - n - roll purists. This record is good and, yes, the Revelers do rock.

(1998)

posted by Thea at 8:26 PM

June 27, 2002

This is the last column that I wrote for the “Cleveland State Cauldron” in 1997 and the last thing that I wrote in that year period. 1997, although a monumental year in many regards (I quit both drinking and smoking and started college again), was not that big of year for me as far as written output. The first part of the year was spent dealing with George Frank as the new bassist for the Revelers and going down to Austin, TX for the SXSW Music Conference in March. That is where I drank my last drink ever - a home brew of ginger beer concocted by one Mr. John Doobie. I remember thinking that the beer (my first since the Holidays) tasted damn good and that I would also never drink again. I don’t know why I stopped cold like that or why I have never figured out a way to drink again. I loved to drink, Ernie. It made me feel good. I am an all or nothing person, that is for sure.

The Revelers moved to New York City that spring and I stayed behind and quit smoking. I also started my love affair with long walks that took my mind off of smoking. I loved to smoke, Ernie. It made me feel good.

The Revelers’ trip to New York City, however hard it was bashed by player haters in the Cleveland, OH scene, was a success and I remember many drives to New York City to interview lawyers, deal with the record label and generally take care of business. It was an exciting time and it seemed like it was all going to happen. Finally.

Amidst all of that, I went back to school compliments of my mother. Big ups to my mom for paying for my last two years of school. Cleveland State University was just about ready to switch over to semesters and I found out that I would be able to graduate in just over a year if I went to class in the summer and changed my major to Communications – the fastest and easiest major ever. I did that without thinking.

I wanted to establish an identity away from the band but I still wanted a career in music. I chose WCSB Cleveland 89.3 FM home of the Assholier than Thou Good Time Happy Friends Monday Morning Radio Show and the “Cleveland State Cauldron” to express myself. I saw that the “Cauldron” was looking for writers and the editor was in one of my TV classes. I asked him if I could write music reviews for the paper and he said yes. I wrote the Smoking Popes thing and he only changed a couple of words – words that were part of jokes that he did not understand. I told him not to change my writing without my expressed approval and he never touched anything that I wrote again. It was a good relationship. It was exactly what I needed to really get going.

True Confessions of a Record Junkie

Instead of putting money aside for Christmas, as a well adjusted, mature young man should, I blew every cent I have, again, over the Thanksgiving weekend on records. Even if I hit the jackpot at work and get a big ass bonus, I still will not have anything to spare, not one thin dime, until about March. Last weekend was the first since school started in September that I did not have too much to do with myself. I tried to read, pleasure reading, but this quarter has ruined that pastime for me. I watched a little bit of TV. I cleaned my apartment. Yet I still was bored stiff by Friday at noon. My west side record haunts started calling me at 12:05 p.m. I argued with myself for a minute. At 12:06 p.m. I hit the road. It is a good thing I do not have a credit card or I would be really screwed financially due to my complete lack of self control. My pockets were empty in just under two hours. My Generation, Chris' Warped Records, Shattered, the Record Exchange, and the Bent Crayon all received a bit of the old mazoo from my battered and abused wallet.

My conscious cried to me with twenty dollars still unspent. I said, “Shut up,” and bought one more CD and the new MRR. Since I doubt I will be able to buy anybody a Christmas gift this year, I will be making my friends and relatives homemade crafts. I listened to my new jams while reacquainting myself with glitter and glue. Here is the rundown of what I got:

The Swingin' Neckbreakers – “Kick Your Ass” (Telstar). This is a decent but not great third long player from this New Jersey garage rock trio. The production of the record is good and the musicianship of the combo is above average. The record reminds me a lot of the first wave of sixties garage revivalists of the early eighties (Fuzztones, Lyres, Battle of the Garage comps, etc.) The nineties norm in garage is to sacrifice instrumental competence for energy and pure kick ass punkieness. I have to admit that I am a nineties guy when it comes to my sixties punk - more trash, less class. This is a classy record. I am sure that the Swingin' Neckbreakers are a good live group since the drummer is good but this record left my a little limp.

The Olivia Tremor Control / the Black Swan Network (Flydaddy). This is a vinyl only LP of experimental music by the new wave pop group, OTC, and its progressive alter ego the Black Swan Network. Say "vinyl only" to a record geek and watch him (me) salivate. The OTC continue to travel down the path that was only a part of their excellent first LP, “Music from the Unfinished Film: Dusk at Cubist Castle” (Flydaddy). It was the great low fidelity pop ditties that hooked me on this band. Only part of that record contained the electronic noise, tape effects, and music concrete that has dominated the last three OTC records I have bought. This ambient stuff is fine but I like singing. The least they could do is repeat "number nine".

The Wedding Present – “Tommy” and “George Best Plus” (Cooking Vinyl). Most bands need a few records to warm up, develop a style, and get good. Most bands get to only make one or two records before they break up. Therefore, most bands suck. These two new reissues are proof of my wacky logic. The Wedding Present did not fall out of the sky a fully functioning rock - n - roll machine. These CDs are a collection of all (I think) of their pre – “Bizarro” (Manifesto) singles, eps, and albums. Get “Bizarro”. It rocks. On it, the Wedding Present sound like a faster Velvet Underground on “1969”. On these CDs, you can hear the band in its embryonic state, before they really mastered the art of rocking. Just OK.

EPMD – “Back in Business” (Def Jam). I was not thrilled by the single off of this album, "The Joint", when I heard it a while back. The beat was that new, sterile sounding R&B that is so popular now and makes me want to throw up. I ask again, "Where is the bass?". Who said that you have to use the same drum sound on every track: And do not get me started on the funk. The new R&B leaves me ice cold. Where have you gone Dr. Funkenstein? Anyway, I was nervous about buying the long player, so I waited for a used copy. “Back in Business” is not “Strictly Business” (Sleeping Bag/Fresh) but the head will commence bobbing on a few of the tracks. The mumbly mouth vocals and almost funky beats of EPMD will always be welcome on my stereo.

“Victory Style 2” (Victory). This is a cheap (four dollars) sampler of most of the bands on Victory Records. If you are at all familiar with the Victory sound (metallic hardcore) then you will not be surprised or disappointed by this collection. Stand out tracks by Earth Crisis and Integrity gives the listener a pretty good idea where hardcore is at in the nineties. I am not ashamed to admit that I still like this kind of music even though most of my peers have outgrown this stuff. But I have to take the soapbox concerning Victory's apparent attempt at selling hardcore as shopping mall culture. Maybe I'm too sensitive but their should be a difference between a Nike ad and punk rock. I think that Victory is blurring that distinction. I could say plenty more. I should have probably said nothing.

The Hollies – “At Abbey Road – 1963 – 1966” (EMI). The great thing about listening to the Rutles was picking out what Beatles song Neil Innes was stealing from, often combining two or three parts, to compose his mock numbers. When I first heard songs from this particular era of the Hollies, at three a.m. in a van on the way home from Columbus, I thought I was hearing a Rutles from a phantom universe. The Hollies, also a British beat group, recorded all of their early side at EMI's Abbey Road studios - made famous by the Beatles. If you are like me and do not think that record production has advanced all that much in the last thirty years, the “At Abby Road” series, including volumes by Gerry and the Pacemakers, the Searchers. etc., is a good way to hear more of Abbey Road than the Beatles' catalog. "Bus Stop", the Hollies biggest hit, is just the tip of the iceberg on this 28 song collection of fantastic beat era singles. The Hollies had three terrific albums in the U.S. before “Bus Stop” that make up the bulk of this collection. That era of the Hollies has not been well documented in the digital age. That makes this collection very necessary. The Everly Brothers style vocals are super tight and the drum sounds, all in mono, kick much ass. This compact disc is a British import and well worth the over twenty dollars I had to spend for it.

Gang Starr - "You Know my Steez" (Noo Trybe). This single is great. Gang Starr is still one of the best groups working in hip hop. I want to say much more about this record. The only problem is that I have to wait until February?!? for the whole album to be out. That is too long to wait between a single and LP. Buy this record and I will talk to you in February.

Capitalist Casualties – “Dope and War” ep (Slap A Ham). This record has nine songs that clock in at about five minutes. The songs are super fast hardcore punk rock and the vocals consist of unintelligible screaming. "Dope and War", the title track, condemn the police for spreading drugs in the inner city, starting gang wars, and inciting urban violence in general. The remainder of the songs attack and damn various parts the system and society as a whole. If you have been paying attention you already know that this record rocks.

(1997)


posted by Thea at 6:04 AM

June 26, 2002

A portrait of the artist as a young dork.

I am still telling the same stories today. Although I hope that I am telling them with a bit more skill of expression. I will be telling these stories until the day I die - hopefully with more skill of expression. There is only one me and these stories are all that I have got.

Ozzy Osbourne
The Ozzman Cometh
(Epic Records, 1997)

I was born to rock. I remember music from a very early age. I remember going to see “Tommy” at the Cloverleaf Drive - In. It was shown as part of a double feature with the blow up action film “Rollercoaster”. I remember hearing Elton John's version of "Pinball Wizard" on the radio. My mom said the original was better and played it for me when we got home from shopping at Southgate. I still love the Who.

I remember Kiss. My younger brother and I had matching disco outfits with Kiss written in rhinestone on the pockets of the vest and slacks. We imitated Ace Frehley, playing air guitar on our knees, and collected Kiss bubblegum cards. We wore Kiss costumes for Halloween.

I collected 45s. My collection received a huge jump start when some neighbor kids threw their older brother's record collection out the attic window like frisbees one night. I woke up in the morning and found almost 50 singles lying in the yards of my neighborhood like Easter eggs. I scooped them all up. I got new records from Peaches every time I was good while getting my hair cut at the Barber College at Ridge and Pearl. My favorite record was "Hotline" by the Sylvers on Capitol Records. I played "Wild Horses" on my Sesame Street record player. My brother would sit in another room with a CB and I would broadcast my own radio show from our bedroom. I loved music. I was five years old.

When I was seven, my parents became born again Christians. It seemed as if they got rid of their records almost immediately. My mom saw Led Zeppelin a couple of times and the Rolling Stones at the Akron Rubber Bowl in 1972 - they were pretty hip parents. My memories are not perfect. I know they had what seemed to me to be a ton of wax and then their was only Kenny Rogers and Simon and Garfunkel records. My dad even got rid off the novelty fart record, “The Crapitation Contest, that we loved. Almost twenty years later, I still have "Hotline" and "C is for Cookie".

I do not remember the exact circumstances but I can recall the consequences of my parent's new faith. Kiss were now Knights (or Kids) In Satan's Service. I was not allowed to listen to Top 40 anymore, just 105.7 or 106.5. Rock was satanic.

In the third grade, my uncle moved his family to town from Buffalo, NY. My cousin Jimmy is a few years older than me. He was old enough to go back to Buffalo to see Van Halen. I was at his house, sneaking through his stuff, when I stumbled upon his records. He had “Black Sabbath”. That record cover looks scary. I put the record on his turntable and heard the now ultra familiar opening storm and bells of "Black Sabbath". I remember being scared. When Ozzy sang "Satan's coming 'round the bend", I knew for damn sure I was not supposed to be listening to that record. I quickly pulled the needle off of the wax and put the vinyl back in the jacket. I bolted out of Jimmy's room in a hurry. I did something wrong. I was hooked. Every time my family went to his house for holidays I stared at the cover of Black Sabbath for a while, imagining the demonic evil on the wax since I was too chicken shit to listen to it. Black Sabbath haunted me in my youth.

I heard through the playground grapevine that Ozzy bit the head off of a bat. He did not. It was a dove. He has also urinated on the Alamo. He must not have heard that you are not supposed to mess with Texas.

As I started middle school, my parents seemed to tighten the screws on me or maybe it was that I had just started being bad. Rock music was still forbidden in their house. I was born to rock. I used to buy records and store them at my friend Kevin's house. He would tape my records for me so I could listen to the at home, under the covers. I hid the tapes in the sock drawer and if my dad found one he would smash it under foot. The clash of wills was on.

Around the same time, I was old enough to attend the "Rock Seminars" held at my parent's church. At a "Rock Seminar", a couple of the older teens or young adults would lecture the congregation on the evils of rock. They would point out the evilness of Judas Priest's lyrics and play Led Zeppelin backwards to scare us. They would list, in great detail, every record that they could find that was satanic. I made fast mental notes. Guess what records I bought the next time I was at Camelot?

Ozzy was a constant subject at the "Rock Seminar". “Speak of the Devil” was his record. He claims that it is only cranberry sauce in his mouth, but who knows? He bit the head off of a dove. I bought “Speak of the Devil”.

At another "Rock Seminar", I heard a story about a kid who fell asleep while listening to Black Sabbath and a demon came into his room and breathed fire on him. His mother found him climbing the walls, screaming at the devil. I bought “We Sold our Soul for Rock – n – Roll” and listened to it in bed at nights for months. I fell asleep to "N.I.B.". I was twelve.

Throughout junior high, my parents tried to keep me away from Ozzy and kick rock out of my system. They loosened up in high school. I do not know if it was because they had a change of heart or I just would not let up. I should find out. This is only a brief sketch of my rocking youth. One day I should write a book about it. I love my parents and they are more Christian now than ever before. They are planning on becoming missionaries. I am planning on making rock – n - roll my career. Surprise. Surprise.

Ozzy has a brand new greatest hits package in stores now called “The Ozzman Cometh”. It contains songs from each of his solo albums except “Speak of the Devil”. "Flying High Again"
and "Suicide Solution" are conspicuously absent because Ozzy is newly sober and trying to change his image. The songs are all pretty decent even if they are 80s pop metal. They do, however, feature Ozzy on vocals. The set is a must due to the inclusion of four Black Sabbath basement tapes from 1970. Sabbath Rules. Hearing them in a garage band setting is yet another proof that Black Sabbath was power house rock - n - roll machine. A funny and somewhat informative Ozzy interview from 1988 (pre - sobriety) is also included on a separate disc.

Words cannot describe how I feel about Black Sabbath and to try to sum up a lifetime of Ozzy in a single story is equally pointless. I cannot imagine a life without Ozzy. I love you Ozzy. You are rock - n - roll.

“The Ozzman Cometh” rocks.

(1997)

posted by Thea at 8:16 PM

Neil Young and Crazy Horse
The Year of the Horse
(Reprise Records, 1997)

By the time you read this review, “Year of the Horse”, a new feature length rock film starring Neil Young and Crazy Horse by noted art director Jim Jarmusch, will not be in the theater anymore. You are going to have to wait to see the movie on video. You should consider yourself lucky. I wish I would have waited. Sitting through the nearly two hour film was painful. I love both Neil Young and Jim Jarmusch. The movie was good but the experience was not unlike being smashed on the head with a beautiful, perfectly designed sledge hammer. The movie made my skull ache. It was brutal.

Neil Young is a perfect example of how to grow old in rock. In the jazz and classical music worlds, a musician usually gains more respect with each passing year, even if his chops are not what they used to be in the old days. Rock musicians, since their careers are primarily youth driven, do not make a graceful decline into oblivion. The majority of the stars of the sixties are either left without a career when their youthful beauty fades or are stuck with half assed gigs playing county fairs and rib burn offs. The few old rockers who have escaped the senior circuit (Bob Dylan, the Who, the Rolling Stones) are parodies of their former selves. Have you seen the Stones on VH1 lately? They are embarrassing. Only Charlie Watts has maintained a bit of dignity. The glimmer twins make me uncomfortable. I am sorry.

Neil Young, through what I am assuming was a youthful pact with the devil, has escaped the silliness that was befallen his Woodstock peers. For whatever reason, his music always seems to be in touch with what is going on with rock - n - roll at the moment. Consider Neil Young in the 90s. He started off the decade as the godfather of grunge. His 1991 tour featured both Sonic Youth and Social Distortion as opening acts. I was there, dude. It rocked.

Over the next couple of years, Mr. Young gets the very popular Pearl Jam and the very great Booker T. and the M.G. s to back him on an album and tour. He builds Lionel train sets and funds a school for children with cerebral palsy. Last year, he toured the world with his group of old rock dogs, Crazy Horse. Jim Jarmusch made this movie from that tour. I saw him at Blossom with the mighty Spiritualized opening the show. He always picks great opening acts (even if they are managed by his manager - the business). It rocked.

He finished that show, as well as “Year of the Horse”, with an extended noise jam following his classic, "Like a Hurricane". At the Blossom show, I sat through several minutes of pure noise and strobe lights before I realized that this was it and started to make my way from the pavilion to the parking lot. The feedback continued all the while I walked up the hill and all of the way back to my car. I was glad to be making my way home without so much traffic and with some of my hearing still intact. I was not as fortunate at the Cedar Lee Theater. Not only was I forced through a 1996 freeform fiesta but “Year of the Horse” switches to footage from a 1976 tour so the audience can experience the screeching guitar solos of yesteryear. That got old real quick. At a concert, it is easy to escape monotony. All I could do was squirm in my seat at the theater.

That is one of this movie's problems. Unlike most rock films that feature concert footage, all of the songs from “Year of the Horse” are performed in their entirety, not just the good parts. The songs are long - man are they long. Neil Young's capacity for wailing away on one note is remarkable and Crazy Horse trudges along at a plodding pace. There were times during this film when I reached for my lighter for tribute and others when I wanted to put the Horse out of its misery.

Neil Young and Jim Jarmusch are a match made in heaven. Mr. Jarmusch's use of long single camera shots and little dialogue is consistent with Neil Young's use of very little of an enormous stage and a focused attack on the guitar. The movie is shot in primarily by a hand held Super 8 camera on stage with occasional edits to 16mm audience shots or grainy video footage. It is not edited like a modern music video. Thank God. The shots are long. They maintain the claustrophobic feel of the rest of Mr. Jarmusch's work. The interview segments are interesting and not too informative. They were probably shot in a single day, certainly in a single setting, as an afterthought to break up the singular force of the concert scenes.

The rock oriented musical, concert film, and rockumentary are, historically, the worst pieces of garbage dropped by Hollywood into the pop culture toilet. I give you “Clambake”. Or the movie is an overly pretentious, long winded puff piece that causes me to hate the subject, e.g. “Rattle and Hum”. “Spinal Tap” is not too far off the mark with most of these wastes of film. “Year of the Horse” is definitely and exception. Jim Jarmusch made a really good movie. My opinion of Neil Young is as high as it ever was and former Akronite Jim Jarmusch is still a god in my book.

Seeing this movie in the theater was a bit too much for me to handle. This music is great but very long and some off the footage is so out of focus that my eyes started to water. “Year of the Horse” is true to its subject. It gives the viewer the sensation of being on stage with Neil Young - with no escape. Get the video so you can zone out at the appropriate moments. Also, the accompanying double disc soundtrack has a different song selection from the same shows.

“Year of the Horse” rocks the free world.

(1997)

posted by Thea at 10:33 PM

June 23, 2002

I must be at least a little bit better now that I don’t want to kill myself as much as I used to. That has got to be a small sign of progress, right? Back in the day (back in the day), when I was in college at Cleveland State University home to WCSB Cleveland 89.3 FM home of the Assholier than Thou Good Time Happy Friends Monday Morning Radio Show, I used to fantasize about killing myself all of the time. Why? I don’t know. I must have really hated going to school because I was happier then that I am now. I used to fantasize about jumping in front of a bus in particular – all the time. It was weird. I could not see a bus rolling down Euclid Avenue without saying to myself – go ahead, dude, jump. That was not good. I am glad I don’t think that anymore.

This article from the Cleveland State University “Cauldron” has a true story about me almost getting hit by a Lakewood, OH police officer. I was bummed out after this because I wanted to get hit by a car and I could have sued the city of Lakewood, OH and retired. But it did not happen. So be it.

Disappointment Also Comes in Threes

After Princess Diana and Mother Theresa passed on, a question asked repeatedly by media analysts and civilians alike was, who is next? It so happens that people believe that the famous organize themselves through some psychic link and die in threes. They always go in threes.

It seems as if this "threes" effect can be applied to the gutsy, high powered world of rock journalism. I was disappointed three big times while attempting to finish this article. This stuff can get spooky. Hold on to your hat.

This first disappointment came in the form of DJ Shadow's “High Noon” (MoWax) ep. I love DJ Shadow. Throughout all of this electronica hype, DJ Shadow has been one of the few acts that I did not find immediately sucky. I hate techno and all its various incarnations. I did not like Ministry back in the day and new school fools like Prodigy can bite me. Techno, was and is, garbage and so is most of the new electronica. A few rules of thumb: If it is being spun in a suburban former disco, if the DJ and the dancers are wearing mostly black, or their is a Dr. Suess hat in the house - it is usually crap. Stop listening.

DJ Shadow, as well as most of his label mates on the MoWax imprint, escape crappiness by avoiding the hated techno and sticking to Hip Hop based DJ-ing. I loved last years' “Entroducing” (MoWax/A&M). It had an old school hip hop flavor with enough violins to make it modern - think Wu Tang Clan without any vocals. That record made my head bounce unlike "Firestarter" that just made my head shake - No!

“High Noon” begins with a beat that is reminiscent of Boogie Down Productions' 1989 jam, "The Style You Haven't Done Yet" (of course without that much funk or Blastmaster KRS – One - both huge pluses), and runs downhill from there - speeding up and jerking off. The music is too fast. The beats are not funky and the keyboard parts are stupid. This is more dance music for zombies. I am still disappointed that I paid eleven bucks for this imported turd and I want my money back. Hip Hop fans, I can wholeheartedly recommend any of DJ Shadow's other records. Techno fans, add this to your collection of crap.

“High Noon” does not rock.

The second disappointment happened last Friday night while I was walking to Chris' Warped Records to buy disappointment number three, “Temple of the Morning Star” (Relapse) by Today is the Day.

I nearly got run over by one of Lakewood's finest while crossing Clarence on Madison. The light said walk. I was exactly centered in between the lines of the crosswalk. The officer, in an attempt to beat on coming traffic on Madison, speed up turning onto Clarence. I saw what the officer was trying to do out of the corner of my eye. I kept my pace. There were many witnesses. I had the right of way. I kept on walking. The police car missed me by a couple of inches. It was close - close enough for me to realize how close I came to winning the personal injury lottery. He would not have killed me and I could have used the bed rest to look at mansion and yacht catalogs. Bummer.

“Temple of the Morning Star” has all the makings of a rocking record. This record has a pentagram on the cover - rock, song titles such as: "Root of All Evil", "Satan is Alive" and "Kill Yourself" - rock, and lyrical themes like sodomy, suicide, hatred of "the man", murder, and the devil - rock. These are normally a few good signs that a record is going to rock you like a hurricane. I like it when a record tries to be evil for evil's sake or just plain offensive. A small part of rock – n - roll is thumbing your nose at the establishment. Nothing says raspberries like some good old fashioned devil worship. I doubt a Satanist is ever going to be president. “Temple of the Morning Star”, however, has no songs about drugs. Strike one.

Today is the Day is from Nashville, TN. They are a bad ass metal band. I think that is ironic but I don't know what that word means. They have released three prior albums on noted indie label, Amphetamine Reptile Records, before switching to a groovy death metal label, Relapse, for this record. I have heard about them for a while bet never got around to actually listening to their music. The sound is noisy punkish metal with keyboards and too many samples. The sample credit on the liner notes should have been a clue that this record would not be so rocking. Also, the sampled vocal snippet is played out - stop it. The vocals sound as if they were recorded through the haunted TV in the movie “Poltergeist”. That is a good thing. The drummer is a real thrash – o - matic and the music is basically OK. Today is the Day never really catch a groove, though, and the record is tinny with too much treble in the mix. I need bass. I need thump. I like my records like I like my women - with a big fat bottom. Today is the Day's music should punch you in the stomach, not scratch you on the skin. This record is real thin sounding. Strike two.

I thought that this record would be more rocking. This band was highly recommended to me and I'm going to wait until I see them live before I chalk up another mark in the suck column. I can see some potential for rock. “Temple of the Morning Star”, despite all the trappings of rock, failed to grab me. The record is one notch below good.

Strike three was delivered with an unlisted buried cover of Black Sabbath's "Children of the Grave". Stealing everything you do as a band from the book of Ozzy is a wonderful thing. In fact, if you were thinking about starting a band, I would recommend that you do just that. Covering a Black Sabbath classic on your record, however, is just plain wrong. Your little group will never be as good as the mighty Sabbath - do not blaspheme, punk, you disappoint me.

“Temple of the Morning Star” does not rock.

Today is the Day plays at the Euclid Tavern tonight with EyeHateGod and Escalation Anger.

(1997)

posted by Thea at 10:13 AM