Showing posts with label Boston. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Boston. Show all posts

Friday, November 29, 2019

Crash Course, No. 15: Battle of the Bands, Dad Rock Edition

In which, clouds, carpets and lazy dogs are "arena rock."
A couple weeks ago (now pushing three weeks), I challenged myself to choose the catalog of one band from my childhood to take with me to a desert island as the only music I would hear for the rest of my life. Here are the bands in play: Styx, Journey, REO Speedwagon, Boston, and Foreigner. Now, for a little framing.

First, why did I choose those bands? Mostly, they were what passed for cool in the American Midwest circa 1980. I’ve since discovered that they passed for cool just about everywhere: even back then and before I had a working understanding of what “big” meant, I grasped that Journey, at least, was massive. Musically, they shaped my earlier understanding of what “rock ‘n’ roll” sounded like and, to some extent, what rock stars looked like. With that, we reach a pivot.

Even though I called three of these bands my personal favorite at some point in my confused little life (for the record, Foreigner, REO Speedwagon and, yes, Styx; Boston’s “More Than a Feeling” sunk a pretty deep hook too), whatever mystique stood between me and at least four of those bands evaporated as I got older and as those bands kept putting out new albums and videos. For instance, some latent instinct told me that 3/5’s of Styx looked anything but “cool” in the video for “Too Much Time on My Hands” (e.g., white pant-suit for James J. Y. Young, the purser’s uniform for drummer John Panozzo, and…just Dennis DeYoung), while Foreigner always came off as middle-aged men singing music suited for guys in their late teens, and REO Speedwagon’s Kevin Cronin knows better than anyone that he doesn’t remotely fit the mold of a rock ‘n’ roll front-man. Between those details and a pile up of fresh inputs – e.g., the immediately mockable “Mr. Roboto,” REO Speedwagon’s pun-infused video for “One Lonely Night,” or even Foreigner’s band-breaking mega-hit, “I Want to Know What Love Is” – it became clearer with each passing year that these were popular bands, and on the cutting edge of absolutely nothing. Everyone involved had real talent, but what they put out stopped meaning anything to me by 1982. (Boston gets a pass in all this because, if I remember right, I had no sense of what they looked like – and for good reason as it turns out.)

Fast forward to today – or, more accurately, to a couple months ago – the fact that I didn’t know anything about all those bands started nagging at me. Defining as all these bands were to their era – i.e., disco, punk, funk, progressive rock, even late-early stage heavy metal all existed or matured at the same time - they occupied a fucking weird space of, for lack of a better word, normal. They were rock music for the straight world…and I still somehow worried that I missed something with one or two of them. So, after starting with a far larger sample (e.g., the first pass included Loverboy, Toto, and about a dozen others), I reduced the sample size to those five bands and started listening – and reading.

My light research into all five bands (seriously, it’s just Wikipedia entries and (massive hat-tip to @morrisonicpod for reminding me they existed!) the Behind the Music features on each) turned up all kinds of surprises. The biggest of those came from how often the same kind of storylines showed up in the different bands – for instance, how many of them started without their most famous and/or revered band members, the instability of their line-ups (and, sometimes, their styles), and how much ego and brand preservation drove that instability. That said, and obviously, no band’s story runs parallel to another’s: think of overlapping circles in a Venn diagram more than anything else, and with a big circle in the middle that reads “arena rock.”

I’ve already written about all five bands in separate posts, and links to those are below. I posted them according to how far or close each band got to coming with me to that desert island, from the last band I’d take to the first one. With that, here are the results and links to each of the earlier posts:

Foreigner, aka, Mick Jones’ Control Issues

One final note: further/continued listening and attempting to create a “Dad Rock Top 20” revealed that Styx belongs in last place. As it turns out, I’m partial to a couple Foreigner ballads, while even the stuff I used to like about Styx rubs me the wrong way.

Sunday, November 24, 2019

Dad Rock Primary, No. 4: Boston, A Prolific, Constipated One-Man Act

You see success, I see excess, so....
The Biggest Surprise: The story behind the “Mary Ann” on “More Than a Feeling,” or the fact that every person in that video is playing a lie....
The Most Famous Line-Up: Tom Scholz on everything (and all production), but also Brad Delp (vox/guitar), Barry Goudreau (guitar), and, later, Sib Hashian (drums), and Fran Sheehan (bass).

What You Need to Know
“I was just writing the kind of music I wanted to hear.”

Tom Scholz developed the material that became Boston’s first album in his basement, with him playing, recording, and crucially manipulating the production to get the sound he was after. He financed the whole thing through a day-job with Polaroid and, no matter how many record executives tried to flush Scholz out of the various basements he created, he never produced a Boston album anywhere outside the basement studios he built for himself wherever he settled down. And that’s the real point of interest in all this: Scholz has as many technical achievements as he has musical ones. When he couldn’t figure out how to get a sound out of the equipment he had, he made new equipment – all of them analog, notably, a point of pride he advertised on some Boston albums. And he really did some incredible stuff with this – specifically, the guitar sound, which, one person interviewed in that “Behind the Music” described as “crunchy guitar that sounded almost three-dimensional.” By my (untrained) ear, he did the same thing with Delp’s vocals – i.e., adding layers to them to make his voice sound like a chorus. When Scholz needed a physical band to record final demos or for the “showcase” he arranged to secure a recording contract to put out six albums in 10 years, he called in connections he made playing in bands during college (e.g., Freehold and Mother’s Milk). Scholz creative process/perfectionism made that rate of production laughably unrealistic - he never got over the b-side of Boston’s rushed (for him) second album, Don’t Look Back (1978) - and a major lawsuit inevitably followed when he insisted on taking his own damn time for a third album. That album, Third Stage, finally came out in 1986 and produced one monster hit (“Amanda”), but Boston’s history basically dries up there (and gets a little weird; see the final minutes of that “Behind the Music” linked to below).

Because Boston is based on Scholz’s singular vision, it’s probably worth taking a little time on Scholz’ influences. He grew up listening to and (I think) playing classic music. According to the “BtM” documentary, The Kinks were the first rock band he really liked – and he did branch out from there – but, if two things stand out about Boston musically, it’s the intricate structure of the songs and, most of all the production. The success of the band’s first, best-known album (1976, “Foreplay/Long Time,” “Peace of Mind,” and “More Than a Feeling*”) still feels like the creative peak. Full disclosure: I barely looked into either Third Stage, never mind 1994’s Walk On, and on the grounds that Boston’s time had passed.

My Favorite Anecdote
As Scholz bravely confessed, the inspiration for “Mary Ann” came from an older cousin Scholz had a crush on when he was 8 or 9 years old. Given the timing, I’m willing to give him a pass.

Why They Didn’t Make the Island
I struggle with Boston because too much of Scholz’ music sounds the same - something that could come from my own shitty ear just as much as repetition. I chose the one track I did from Third Stage – “We’re Ready” – precisely for its slight tonal differences with Boston’s earlier music, whether reining in the trebles or leaving a little more dead-air in the production. That gets at another fun detail: the song “Let Me Take You Home Tonight,” is a rare example of song that didn’t come from Scholz; that more roots-based tune came from Delp, and it’s enough to make you wonder what a different balance would have sounded like

Other Featured Songs: I also added "Don't Look Back" (LIVE!) but only as an act of hostility; that sounds so, so very Boston; the same goes for another successful single from the same album, "A Man I'll Never Be." It's the same gimmicks, the same vague uplift that defines some part of arena rock. That’s not the kind of thing one takes to a desert island, because until the end of your life? Seriously?
Most Boston Song: “More Than a Feeling,” and sorry for being boring.

Sources
Wikipedia
Behind the Music (actually a Japanese/reverential documentary on Boston).