So my sister is a Facebooker. As Army Brats, we broke a lot of good connections over the years. She's rekindling some of those connections. I feel less compelled, for reasons that I suppose could be explored in another blog.
A little while ago she and her facebookies were involved in a pretty cool discussion about which music still stands out as important to them from their childhood. I think this is a great discussion and want to join in. My childhood friend Tim did a great job of pin-pointing why a song or album was important, not just because of the When, but also the Where. So open iTunes in another window and get ready for some downloading.
The first three albums that hold equal status as music that I remember really wanting to hear over and over again are:
Goodbye Yellow Brick Road - Elton John
Abbey Road - The Beatles
and
Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band Movie Soundtrack - Peter Frampton with The Bee Gees and Various Artists
I remember sitting next to our stereo console, wearing big puffy headphones with the coiled cord, listening to these albums over and over. I loved Goodbye Yellow Brick Road because it was a double-album. As such, the album sleeve opened like a book. Inside were the lyrics AND small pieces of artwork to illustrate a theme of some of the songs. Plus, on the long commute from the island we lived on to my downtown school, my dad and I could get all the way through the Funeral for a Friend/Love Lies Bleeding opus without interruption. It shouldn't surprise anyone if some of that album artwork ends up as a tattoo one day. Probably Grey Seal.
The Sgt Pepper's Soundtrack was important because I loved the movie. Still do. This was pre-Mtv and if you wanted sound and sight to go together, you had to watch a musical. But we were years away from The Pirate Movie and Xanadu, so outside of Grease, I didn't like musicals. But, with Sgt. Pepper's, the music came first. They just pieced together a crazy-ass story line and a bunch of weird characters to fit in with the songs. Steve Martin was born to play Maxwell Edison.
I did love the Xanadu soundtrack. ELO is a fine band and I will always love Olivia Newton-John. My favorite songs were Don't Walk Away and the one where the Tubes battled the Glen Milleresque big band for club supremecy, only to find a happy blend of the old and the new. Awesome.
After that, it seems like there were a handful of 45s (Singles for you millenials) that struck a deep chord here and there. Like Tim, I loved some silly stuff, Pac-Man Fever, Eat It, Don't Mess with My Toot Toot, et al.
There were songs that I associate very lovingly with my parents - Lonesome Loser by Little River Band, Oh Sherry by Steve Perry (mom), and anything by CSN&Y.
But as far as my music goes, somewhere around 1983 something new popped up on my horizon. Something my parents could not have introduced me to. Something they hoped was a fad:
Rap.
Run-DMC's eponymous first album gave me something that few other albums ever had. As a tone deaf kid, I couldn't sing to save my life. But I could flow like the Savannah River by the time I was 11. Run-DMC made me want to unlock my awkward suburban white body parts and move them to beats that came not from drums but from machines.
More importantly, Rap connected me to a nebulous sub-culture. It would be years before anyone would tell me that I was white and therefore couldn't listen to Rap. No one owned Rap in 1983. Now I'm not sure who owns rap, but I don't think it's the rappers. Maybe Oprah.
My dad took my sister and I to Fresh Fest II (I don't know how we missed the first one). It was headlined by Run DMC, but supported by The Fat Boys, Whodini, and Afrika Bambata. Plus some of the dancers from Breakin' were there. I wore fingerless gloves, zip-down-the-sides-parachute pants and a shirt with mesh sleeves. Oh and a bandana like Daniel Larusso's.
I loved early hip-hop. I loved its clever delivery. I loved its fierceness. I loved getting in to Rap Battles. Tim and I formed a Rap group - scratch that, a Christian rap group called The Supreme Rappers. I think my Rap name was MC Soundwave. Yes, like the Transformer.
Soon enough, Raising Hell by Run DMC was all I could listen to. I know every lyric to every song on that album and tattle on new rappers when they sample anything from it. Dum-diddy-dum indeed.
In 1987, I saw scary images with loud music being played by sinister people on Mtv. Welcome to the Jungle frightened me like fire before a caveman. I wanted more. Then I heard the opening riff of Sweet Child O'Mine and I my love of metal was solidified. I mean I liked AC/DC a lot. We used to play Hells Bells before soccer games to get us amped. I bought and wore out the Appetite for Destruction cassette three times between 1988 and 1990. Finally, I found the funds to buy the CD when I was 15.
That's it for part 1. In part 2 we discuss the Metal Years, Make-out albums, what to play at a funeral and how to make a good Mix-tape.
Before I go, here's a recap, with selected track recommendations:
Abbey Road - Something, Here Comes the Sun
Sgt. Pepper's Soundtrack - Come Together (Aerosmith) Got To Get You Into My Life (Earth, Wind, & Fire)
Goodbye Yellow Brick Road - Grey Seal, Social Disease, Harmony
Xanadu Soundtrack - Don't Walk Away
Run-DMC - Rock Box, Jam Master Jay
Raisin' Hell - Peter Piper, Hit It Run, Is It Live
Appetite For Destruction - (besides the obvious) My Michelle and Rocket Queen
That's it, get to downloading.
Hold Fast,
Caulfield
Monday, March 9, 2009
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)