In First Concert, all kinds of folk have discussed their first live music experience and the impact it might have had on their life and for some, their art. As we've talked to dozens of creative people, we've discovered amazing stories of unhinged live performances or forgotten B-sides.
Israel Horovitz’s memoires Un New-Yorkais a Pariswere recently published in France, where he is the most-produced American playwright in French theatre history. Awards include OBIE (twice), Prix Italia, Sony Radio Academy Award, Writers Guild of Canada Best Screenwriter Award, Christopher Award, Drama Desk Award, Award in Literature of the American Academy of Arts and Letters, Lifetime Achievement Award from B’Nai Brith, Boston Public Library’s Literary Lights Award, Massachusetts Governor’s Award,) and many others.
Horovitz was recently decorated as Commandeur dans l’Ordre des Arts et des Lettres, France’s highest honor awarded to foreign artists. He is Founding Artistic Director of Gloucester Stage, and active Artistic Director of the New York Playwrights Lab. He is co-director of Compagnia Horovitz-Paciotto, a theatre company in Italy. NYC’s Barefoot Theatre celebrated Horovitz’s 70th birthday by organizing The 70/70 Horovitz Project, a year-long event with 70 Horovitz plays having had readings and/or productions by theatre companies around the globe.
What was the first concert you ever attended? How old were you?
My 1st concert was in Montreal, Québec. My father was a truckdriver and, as a family, we were given to copious long rides. As I remember it, my father drove us from Wakefield, Massachusetts (where we lived) to Montréal in order to buy inexpensive (tax free) china to give to a cousin as a wedding gift. I was around 12 years old. My first day in Montréal, I met a local Québecoise girl named Bloomer, who was slightly older than me, maybe 15. I told my parents I was going to a 6pm movie with her. She took me to an underground R&B club. The bouncer at the door knew Bloomer, let us in, but warned us not to drink too much.
What do you remember about the performance? The concert was amazing. After five or six Little Richard imitators, Earl Bostic played a magical set, followed by free-form jazz and R&B by local musicians joined by whomever happened to be in town.
How do you think that experience affected you as an artist?
It almost ended my life. I got back to where we were staying around 3:30am. My parents thought I was dead. The police were out looking for me. When I fessed up and told my parents where I’d been, they wanted me dead. I went back home to Massachusetts wanting to be a black musician. I sang “Tutti Frutti” a cappella in a talent show. Having failed as a soul singer, I wrote a novel at age 13, which I sent to a publisher in NYC. The novel was rejected but praised for having “a wonderful childlike quality." Having failed as a novelist, I wrote my first play, which was performed when I was 17. Nobody said it was a good play, but everybody said “It’s a play.” So, I was a playwright. 56 years later, I’m still trying.
Throughout the history of rock and roll one thing has become clear: when you take an unknown musician, turn him into a musical god, and then give him a virtual blank check to engage in debauchery, things can get bizarre. Really bizarre.
So, for your entertainment we’ve gathered five of the most bizarre incidents in rock and roll.
Ozzy Bites the Head Off a Dove
Ozzy Osbourne once bit the head off a bat (he thought it was a rubber toy and immediately got rabies shots). But he got his start with a dove.
In a 1981 meeting with record executives, Ozzy signed a deal as a solo artist. He intended to release some doves as a gesture of good will. Instead, being severely intoxicated and apparently insane, he grabbed one and bit its head off. As he is wont to do. How's that for good will?
John Lennon Sees a UFO
If you look at the liner notes of John Lennon’s 1974 album Walls and Bridges, you’ll find the phrase “On 23 August 1974 I saw a UFO J. L.” While unwinding on his balcony after a day in the studio, John Lennon claimed to have seen a UFO hovering near his building: “I realized this thing was real and so close that I could almost touch it!” (Cue the music to the Twilight Zone.)
Phil Spector Might Have Killed Someone
In addition to being a brilliant producer and innovator of the “Wall of Sound," Phil Spector is also a crazy person. Seriously, at one point or another he has pulled a gun on The Ramones, John Lennon, Debbie Harry, and Leonard Cohen. Most people greet you with a handshake; Spector prefers a loaded gun.
But in 2003 his antics went from wacky to horrifying when actress Lana Clarkson was found shot to death in Spector's home. Spector reportedly told his driver, “I think I’ve killed someone” and in 2009 was sentenced to nineteen years to life in a California prison.
Keith Richards Snorts His Dad’s Ashes
Keith Richards has since denied this little anecdote (much like Ted Nugent denies how he dodged the draft by going on a multi-day meth and junk food bender to fail the physical). But in a 2007 interview, Keith Richards claimed that after his father’s passing he did a line of his dad’s ashes. He also said, “It went down pretty well." But come on, this is Keith Richards, it would have been more bizarre if he hadn’t snorted his father's ashes. Right?
The Gram Parsons Incident
Say what you will, but Phil Kaufman is dedicated to his friends.
Gram Parsons told Kaufman in a passing conversation that upon his death he wished to be cremated and have his ashes spread over Cap Rock in Joshua Tree, California. So when Parsons died of an overdose in September 1973, Kaufman did what any good friend would do. He stole Parsons’ corpse from the Los Angeles International Airport, loaded it up in a hearse, and drove it out to Joshua Tree. There, he poured five gallons of gasoline on the casket and set it on fire. Gram got his wish, and Phil only got a $750 fine for stealing a coffin.
Would you like to share a bizarre rock and roll story with us? Leave a comment in the box below and we'll share it with our friends on Facebook. And thanks for reading.
(Elford Alley has had plays produced and read across the United States and his sketch comedy featured in several shows in Chicago. His articles have appeared in cracked.com. He currently resides in Dallas with his wife and daughter.)
Musician/actor/producer David Cassidy has performed for some 40 years -- after first breaking into the big time as a singing teen heartthrob on the 1970s ABC show The Partridge Family.Cassidy was one of the first personalities to be merchandised and marketed worldwide, and recorded ten Partridge Family and five solo albums during the show’s five-year run.
David Cassidy debuted his Davy Jones tribute show at the Kenley Centennial Amphitheater in Layton, Utah on Monday, July 2, with three subsequent tribute appearances in Vegas later this summer.
Cassidy delivered all of the hits that made him famous, such as "I Think I Love You," as well as favorites by The Beatles and others. But he also paid special tribute to the music of a fallen friend.
Davy Jones, who held his own heartthrob status as part of the The Monkees TV show and band in the late '60s, was originally slated for the Kenley date. He was struck down unexpectedly by a heart attack at age 66 on Feb. 29.
Cassidy and Jones had performed together several times over the years and were close friends: "A month after he passed away, we were actually scheduled to do a show together," said Cassidy. "We were working out the details shortly before he died. So when that happened, I was glad to help. Other than having Danny (Bonaduce) open for me a couple times, Davy is the only one I'd shared a stage with. And his fans and my fans are very supportive of each other."
In their previous performances, Jones had always opened for him.
"This time, I said to him, 'Listen, man, why don't I go on first, then you do your set, and I'll join you for the last couple of songs?' I felt weird about always closing for him, because of me being more famous or whatever, because he was insanely talented. And the venues we were going to play were OK with it, and we were set to go. And then he was gone. So when his agent called and asked me to do this, to rehearse a tribute to him, I didn't hesitate."
Knock at the door
A few years younger than Jones, Cassidy was a fan of Jones and his work onThe Monkees'television series and albums: "Those memories are very special to me," said Cassidy, "I can remember driving in a car, as a teenager in L.A., and listening to their music on the radio -- great music. It is an amazing thing to perform this music, have this connection with this music from my early years, before I became a professional myself. The whole thing is really very emotional for me."
Cassidy first met Jones when one day, completely out of the of the blue, Jones knocked on Cassidy's door. This was in the early 1970s, when Cassidy's own fame was in full blush, but after Jones' mega-stardom was waning.
"His career was really in a frustrating place then," said Cassidy. "So he just wanted to come in and feel me out and see what I was about, who I was."
Jones told Cassidy that he had written a song for him.
"Well, I was stunned, flabbergasted, having been a fan myself. I welcomed him in. I think he understood we would have a connection. We did, of course. He understood what I was going through then -- and also knew the kind of frustration I would go through after 'The Partridge Family' went away. "
More than a Monkee
Cassidy said that Jones, a serious actor and musician, struggled with his Monkee identity. The very name of the band was something that chafed.
"That word -- Monkee -- it connotes something kind of silly, or clownish. And of course, they were fun and funny, but they made some great music that still holds up. Individually, I thought they were all talented, but together? Amazing. And they had some comeback shows later that showed what they were really made of. It is a tribute to them that they finally got the respect they deserved.
"But back then, before the comeback happened, Davy was hurting. He told me, 'The Monkees were great, but they ruined my acting career.' He was a very good theatrical actor when he was young -- played on the West End as the Artful Dodger, a fantastic role, and in many others. But he couldn't go back to that, after The Monkees. He was too closely identified with that role. And of course, not too many years after that day he first came to see me, I went through something very similar. His friendship helped me deal with it."
Cassidy and Jones stayed close over the years, sharing an interest in thoroughbred breeding and racing, as well as music and acting. During the last five years, as they performed shows together, they grew even closer.
"I have nothing but great memories of knowing him. He was able to let down a lot of his barriers, and that helped me to do the same. We could share it all."
(This article was reprinted from the Standard-Examiner with journalist Linda East Brady's permission. The original article, which appeared on June 29, 2012 was more extensive and has been shortened. Linda East Brady is a novelist, music journalist and radio host. She is the music writer for the Ogden Standard-Examiner, and has also written about music for numerous other publications. Linda also co-hosts an Americana radio show, “Sunday Sagebrush Serenade,” for KRCL FM.
Her fiction appears under the name L. E. Brady. Her short story, “Continental Club Graffiti,” appeared in the Mid-South Literary Review. Her first novel, “Lone Star Ice & Fire,” was published in 2004 by Coral Press. Her follow-up book, “The Pedigree Blues,” is due out soon from the same publisher. She lives with her husband and family in Ogden, Utah.)
The Sonics are the Thomas Edisons of the music world. They invented garage rock. They invented punk too. They even invented grunge.
Well, saying they "invented" three genres might be a bit of hyperbole, but The Sonics certainly paved the way for all three movements. Their influence can be detected in such bands as: The Dead Boys, The Cramps, Japandroids, Mudhoney, The Fall, The Hives, L7, The White Stripes, The Flaming Lips, The Fleshtones, The Fuzztones and LCD Soundsystem.
The unconventional five-piece garage band from Tacoma, Washington had a brash, gritty style and their original material had somber themes. While some of The Sonics' material dealt with typical early 60s subjects like cars, surfing and girls, their most successful numbers revealed a darker side: witches, psychopaths, Satan and drinking strychnine just for the heck of it.
For those of you who don't know - I had to look it up myself - strychnine is a pesticide that is used to kill small birds and rodents. It causes muscular convulsions and eventually leads to death through asphyxia. One pint of poison coming up!
The Sonics' contemporaries - The Kingsmen, The Wailers, The Dynamics, and Paul Revere & The Raiders - weren't tackling such gloomy subjects as drinking strychnine for kicks.
"Some folks like water / Some folks like wine / But I like the taste / Of straight strychnine"
By the time The Sonics were set to record "Strychnine" for their 1965 debut album Here Are The Sonics, the classic line-up was in place: Larry Parypa (lead guitar, vocals), Andy Parypa (bass guitar), Bob Bennett (drums), Rob Lind (saxophone, vocals, harmonica) and Gerry Roslie (organ, piano & lead vocals). With Roslie as lead singer and primary songwriter (penning all four originals on Here Are The Sonics) the band was poised to record their debut album that established them as a cult favorite.
"Strychnine" is a bizarre, aggressive tune that combines Gerry Roslie's rowdy, Little Richard-like vocals with boisterous, loud frat rock. Although it was only a modest hit on a modest-selling record, "Strychnine" has contributed to The Sonics enduring cult status.
Here Are The Sonics pioneered their primitive yet effective recording techniques. The album was recorded on a two-track tape recorder, with only one microphone to pick up the entire drum kit.
From a musical and production standpoint, The Sonics did everything wrong. However, with the exception of The Ramones, never has a band that has been so wrong been so right.
did you have to be the only one who insisted on being yourself?
“Pretending" is set in Dan Lynch’s, a classic NYC club. Have you ever been there? If so, did you go specifically to see a band?
I was actually at the music bar, Dan Lynch, on a date. She was a German artist. I put my hand on her leg before the music started. She told me her female roommate was her lover. That was news to me. I took my hand off her leg. She asked me why I didn’t go for men. I told her that men never attracted me. I don’t remember the band much, except for the fact that they were all male and their loud music made it very difficult to continue our conversation, which I was grateful for.
The line “white musicians pretending that they were black” brought several musicians to mind. What white musicians do you think pretend to be black? Why do you think they behave in this manner?
Elvis Presley purposely sounded like a Black man. He sang that way to make money and meet a need. I always liked the film, “Field of Dreams.” There was a line in the movie. “If there’s a need, people will come.” There was a need for the White race to meet the Black race on different terms. Music reflects what goes on in real life.
The Black Panthers were popular while I was going to college. At Washington Square College, New York University, I was in an honors seminar with Ralph Ellison, author of The Invisible Man. He kept saying that society was going to appropriate Black culture. That’s what Elvis did until he took so many pills and got too fat – he had to wear a girdle – to shake. I don’t mean to put down Elvis. I felt sorry for his later life. He had a bad manager who exploited him – put him in too many second-rate movies.
I was struck by the line “the people next to us jumped up & down, pretending that they were rock stars.” They’re the audience not performers and yet they're "pretending to be rock stars." Why do you think some people have such a desire to be on stage? What’s the appeal of being a rock star?
The appeal of being a rock star is fame and more fame. People think it’ll be easier to meet others if you’re already famous. That may be true. But then again did anyone really know Elvis? He was surrounded by his bodyguards. He had very little privacy. When Elvis got married the first thing his wife did was to make a bonfire to burn his books. She was trying to change him. People change slowly.
I’m famous but my fame is only spread among the poetry scene. I have limited fame. That’s the best kind. When I was in Paris – I went there partly to meet a Parisian girlfriend but ended up meeting an American one – I met a young woman who told me she was going to be famous. I said in what area. She said she didn’t know yet, but whatever it was, she was going to achieve fame. I felt sorry for her. She was too driven.
It reminded me of the Phil Ochs' song, “Chords of Fame.” There’s a line that goes, “Whatever you do, don’t play the chords of fame.” This woman was strumming them a little too loud for my taste. It’s like Zen. If you strive for fame, you don’t achieve it. You can only get true fame by not seeking it.
Two of the poem’s central themes are pretense and duplicity. How do you think clubs/bars contribute to a person’s desire to be somebody else or something they’re not?
The music scene is set up for pretending you’re someone else. Look at Janis Joplin – she was a star and yet she still pretended she was popular. If the stars pretend they’re popular, so will the audience. I’ve always liked the Judy Collins’ song, “You make up your memories and think they have found you.” Or like The Kinks wrote, “It’s a mixed-up shook-up world where boys pretend to be girls and girls pretend to be boys.” Bob Dylan wasn’t his real name. Or like the Stones sang, “What can a poor boy do but join a rock & roll band.’ Mick Jagger wasn’t poor. He went to the London School of Economics. In fact, I fantasized about being a rock & roll star along with thousands of other fans.
One of my most memorable moments was when I was told by the owner of an East Side book store that Bruce Springsteen walked in, took my first book from a display, started reading it, then began laughing. Then he bought two copies of my book by check. The owner promised to give me the cancelled check, but he never did. Now the store is closed.
What has been your most memorable live music experience?
When I went to hear Barry Harris play piano at the Jazz Cultural theatre. Harris used to live in the same house in New Jersey with Theolonius Monk and the Countess who took care of them. Monk was a genius pianist and composer who had severe mental problems. Some days he would wake up and not recognize his wife and kids. He acted like they were strangers. Barry would play Monk compositions, like “Around Midnight.”
I empathized with the jazz world, because they were at the lowest end of the music world, like poets being at the lowest end of the writing world. Barry would play Monk’s songs and it felt like they were touching my soul. I felt close to Monk, even though we were entirely different personalities that came from totally different backgrounds.
What are your favorite spots for live music/performance?
I’ve been to Webster Hall with a date to hear The Smithereens. They didn’t impress me. They sounded like a modern day louder version of The Monkees – canned music.
I went to Madison Square Garden with a friend to hear Ike and Tina Turner open for the Rolling Stones. I fell in love with Tina. One of the first questions I asked a woman who I was interested in dating was who did she like better – the Stones or Beatles. If she said the Stones, then she passed the test. If she said the Beatles, I’d ask her who was her favorite one. If she said John Lennon, I’d still ask her out. If she said Ringo Starr, I wouldn’t even bother getting her phone number.
I went to hear Chubby Checker perform at the Fillmore East. I was impressed by his piano playing.
My biggest regret was not going to Woodstock. The friends I was planning to go with chickened out, because they thought they would be busted for drug use. They got paranoid.
I heard Holly Neat and Sweet Honey and the Rock at Carnegie Hall. I remember Holly liberating the men’s bathrooms, telling the women in the audience that they shouldn’t be afraid to use the male facilities. I agreed with her until I had to use the bathroom and had to wait while liberated women cut ahead of me in line.
On Writer’s Almanac, you mentioned your book Stray Cat Blues. Can you talk a little about the title and why you appropriated The Rolling Stones’ song?
Titles cannot be copyrighted. Therefore, anyone can use them. I have another poem, which I use a poplar song title as my title - "Breaking Up Is Hard To Do."
“We don’t have anything in common,”/ I said. “We’re two completely different people./ It doesn’t make sense to stay together.”/ But then she started to rub my penis/ through my pants, & I suddenly remembered / that we both did like Indian food.
"Stray Cat Blues" is the title of a poem in my new collection. I like stray cats, though I’m allergic to them, which is one of the themes in my work – the mind is sometimes a step ahead of the body.
(Photograph by Kim Soles) In our Writers and Musicseries, authors either discuss the music that has been included in their novel/poems or the influence music has had on their work overall.
Hal Sirowitz first began to attract attention at the Nuyorican Poets Cafe where he was a frequent competitor in their Friday Night Poetry Slam. He was a member of the 1993 Nuyorican Poetry Slam team and competed in the National Poetry Slam.
Sirowitz has performed his poetry across the country and on television programs such as MTV's Spoken Word: Unplugged and PBS's The United States of Poetry.
He is best known for Mother Said, My Therapist Said and Father Said. Sirowitz is a 1994 recipient of an NEA Fellowship in Poetryand is the former Poet Laureate of Queens, New York. He is the best-selling translated poet in Norway, where Mother Said has been adapted for the stage and turned into a series of animated cartoons. Sirowitz worked as a special education teacher for 23 years.
Our conversation with Hal is in two parts. Below is part one. Check back tomorrow (5/4) for part two.
Gena Anderson at Bookslut called you “a poor man’s Woody Allen.” What do you think she was suggesting?
I thought of adopting a Bob Dylan persona for interviews and attacking the interviewer. But I like being interviewed. It makes you define yourself. I have a love/hate relationship with Woody Allen. “Manhattan” is one of my favorite all time movies. I hated “Interiors.” Just like Bob Dylan, I expected Woody Allen to reflect my life. I consider them brothers in the arts.
I was devastated listening to “Lay Lady Lay” when it was first played on the radio. That song didn’t have the angst of his previous ones. It didn’t teach me anything about relationships, except to look for sex – something I already knew and wasn’t helpful in keeping the relationship solvent. I thought Dylan was selling out. Now I know he was only being human.
The good thing about poetry is there isn’t much money in it. That gives you freedom to do what you want and to become incognito while doing it. I was never under the gun, like Woody Allen and Bob Dylan, to compete against myself. I wrote some bad poems, like “Lay Lady Lay," but they have gone unnoticed. I think I’m smart enough not to put any of my real bad poems in one of my collections.
How has music informed your poetry?
I compose my poems while listening to music. I like Paul Williams, Mikail Gilmore, and others who wrote about music. I like Townes Van Zandt, and was surprised to know that someone who got more depressed than me was able to put his depression into song. You can’t separate music from my work. I started out wanting to be a poetical version of Bob Dylan, only to give up that fantasy to find my own voice.
You've been a “slam” poet. Do you view yourself as a performer?
I was selected to be on Spoken Word Unplugged with John Hall, leader of the band King Missile and Gil Scott Heron. Performing has always been part of my act. I do a dead-pan performance. Then I developed Parkinson’s Disease, which slurred my speech. I had a brain operation – batteries and electrodes put into my chest and head. I’m the authentic electrical man the poet Walt Whitman wrote about.
Tell me about your relationship with They Might be Giants.
I was the opening act for They Might Be Giants when they were first starting out at a lower East Side club called Darinka. I remember performing four sets in two nights. I was called the “Mother Said” poet, but I never told my mother I was writing about her. I was afraid she might hit me over the head.
John Flansburg brought me to his studio - his old apartment where he lived before he got married - to record me performing my poetry. In those days they had their own music label and would record friends and bands that they liked.
On the radio show “Studio 360,” John Linnnel claimed that their song, "Palindrome," was influenced by my "mother" poems. They were great guys. John Flansburg had a lot of energy and while his main band was resting between gigs, he’d put together another band to perform. He had a show at Mercury Lounge and had me as their opening act for old- time sake. It was a standing room only crowd.
I got on stage and said, “I forgot to bring my guitar. I guess I’ll just have to read this stuff.” There was total silence in the room. Then a few people started laughing. I read my golden oldies – old poems guaranteed to get a reaction from the crowd. After my reading a couple of women declared they were fans and gave me rocks as presents.
What song/album/musician/band has directly influenced your writing?
When I was young I got blown away by the song “Purple People Eater” and Buddy Holly’s “It’s So Easy to Fall in Love.” He was right. It’s harder to find someone who falls in love with you. I always liked Leonard Cohen because he was a poet first and became a songwriter later. He’s not as good live as he is recorded. I liked the compilation albums of other singers recording his songs.
I love the blues – Mississippi John Hurt, John Lee Hooker, etc. I like Billie Holiday – she sings depressing songs in an uplifting manner. I like Cleo Laine – she sings Broadway classics with soul. I like J.J. Cale. The list is endless. I even like early Neil Diamond.
When someone says, “Name a famous drummer,” as many are wont to do in everyday conversation, I bet the first drummer that pops into your head is Ringo Starr. Since the 60s, drummers worldwide - including Max Weinberg, Phil Rudd and Dave Grohl - have cited him as an influence. It has been more than forty years since The Beatles broke-up and Ringo is still enjoying a successful solo career. Last month, he released "Ringo 2012," his 17th studio album.
So, without further ado, here are 5 things that make Ringo Starr great:
He’s a left-handed drummer playing a right-handed drum kit. He can’t even do a drum roll. But because of this, Ringo Starr has had to improvise, creating a unique sound all his own. Just listen to the drum fills on “A Day in the Life” or the drum solo on Abbey Road’s “The End," which was the only drum solo he ever played as a member of The Beatles.
3. An Enduring Solo Career
When The Beatles split Ringo got to work, releasing two albums before the end of 1970, and at 71 years old he shows no signs of slowing down. He’s had several hits including classic rock staples like “It Don’t Come Easy” and “Photograph.”
4. An Impressive Acting Career
Ringo has starred in several movies - The Magic Christian, Born to Boogie(which he also directed) & Caveman (to name a few) - but he's probably most well known for his stint as Mr. Conductor for the PBS kids' show Shining Time Station and his appearance on The Simpsons.
5. The All-Starr Band
Since 1990, Ringo Starr has occasionally toured with his ever-evolving super group Ringo Starr and His All-Starr Band. Previous line-ups have included Levon Helm, Rick Danko, Billy Preston, Dr. John, Joe Walsh, Clarence Clemons and Todd Rundgren.
*Check back tomorrow for an interview with Ringo's personal photographer, Rob Shanahan.
(Elford Alleyhas written plays, sketch comedy, and short stories. He currently lives in Dallas with his wife and daughter. Follow Elford on Twitter.)
On December 4, 1956 Carl Perkins was recording at Sun Studios when a few of his famous buddies stopped by.
Sam Phillips, owner of Sun Records, invited his most recent signing, Jerry Lee Lewis, to play piano on Perkins' sessions, and later that day Elvis Presley with girlfriend Marilyn Evans and Johnny Cash dropped in on the recordings.
At some point, Elvis left the control room, entered the studio, sat at the piano and eventually a jam session began. "Cowboy" Jack Clement, who was engineering, recorded at least four songs, while Sam Phillips saw an opportunity for some publicity and called the local newspaper, Memphis Press-Scimitar.
The next day, an article was published under the title "Million Dollar Quartet" accompanied by the famous photograph of Elvis seated at the piano surrounded by Lewis, Perkins and Cash. The uncropped version of the photo below includes Marilyn Evans, sitting atop the piano.
At the end of the process of writing Believe in Me, my forthcoming rock and roll novel (Wampus Multimedia, Nov. 29), I discovered that I had set myself up for some challenges. As a rookie author, I hadn’t realized that I would be responsible for acquiring permission to quote from each of the songs I had woven into my narrative. The process became marginally simpler once I learned that song titles are considered fair game to quote—it’s just the lyrics that you have to ask for permission to use.
Still, that left me with about 15 songs and 10 or 12 publishing companies to deal with. The process took months. But as I told publisher Mark Doyon at the beginning of the process, “(a) I think the quotes really enrich the story, and (b) I’m just stubborn enough to stick it out to the very end of this road.”
Here I am, and here are the rest of the songs that helped me to tell the story of ex-campaign operative Tim Green running away with the rock and roll circus that is his new friend Jordan Lee’s stadium-filling rock band Stormseye.
“Band On the Run” by Paul McCartney & Wings
Part two of the book is about Tim going on the road with Jordan’s band, both of them running away from something they can’t escape. Between that and the fact that this is my favorite post-Beatles McCartney song, it was kind of a no-brainer as the title of part two.
“Lost Horizons” by Gin Blossoms
More things Tim does in part two: he drinks a lot…
“When You're Alone” by Bruce Springsteen
…and gets lonely…
“Another Saturday Night” by Sam Cooke
...and ends up whistling this song to himself sitting alone in a hotel bar, when his luck suddenly changes. Or does it?
“Recovering The Satellites” by Counting Crows
A great song about the torches-and-pitchforks dark side of celebrity: “All anybody really wants to know is / When you gonna come down.”
“Instant Karma” by John Lennon
The title of part three, in which Tim suddenly detects, and seizes, the opportunity to dole out some karma of the immediate variety.
“No Better Place” by Fountains Of Wayne
As a student of irony (and one-liners), I have always loved the opening line of this song, which fronts part three of the book: “Is that supposed to be your poker face / Or was someone run over by a train?” I can’t say much more than that without a three-alarm spoiler alert; suffice it to say that someone who might have thought they were fooling someone else, was mistaken… and conversely, someone who starts to think they have it all figured out, could not be more wrong.
“Brown Eyed Girl” by Van Morrison
Tim has a half-denied, half-repressed crush on his oldest friend, who has big brown eyes. In the middle of part three, they make dinner together at his house. As she’s helping him in the kitchen, he puts on Van Morrison’s Greatest Hits. Wouldn't you?
“Misty Mountain Hop” by Led Zeppelin
The name of part four, which might be either a metaphorical or a literal interpretation of the events that open that final section of the book; more than this I cannot say.
“My Mercurial Nature” by Arms Of Kismet
This one took awhile to find its way into the book, but when it did it became the lyric-quote cherry on top. “Where would I be without these sins / Made me who I am today?” equals the essence of part four, and a lyrical home run.
“We Are One Tonight” by Switchfoot
Every single time I’ve heard this song, I’ve thought it was just made to be played live, late in a show in front of a huge audience. Such elemental chords, such an anthemic message of unity, a song that seems fully capable of capturing the hearts and minds (and hands and feet) of every single person in a theater, arena, or even stadium. Play it loud and see for yourself.
These are some of the songs I listened to while writing Believe in Me. There were many others, of course, but the quotes and song titles that stuck had to be ones that both fit and somehow enhanced the story, adding texture and context to Tim and Jordan’s journey. It’s a journey I hope you’ll join me on. Believe in Me is available for the Kindle, iPad, Nook and Sony Reader—visit http://wampus.com/jason-warburg/ to pick up your copy. Thanks again to Richard for offering me this platform, and thanks to each of you for listening.
[Note: All lyrics quoted are copyrighted by the songwriters and their respective publishing companies, all rights reserved, and are used here only for purposes of discussion.]
The man was a hipster long before hipsters even existed. His iconic specs persuaded John Lennon and Elton John to wear their eyeglasses during performances.
2. His Untimely Death
His tragic death doesn't necessarily make him great, but it certainly ensured his legacy. When Holly's airplane went down on February 3, 1959, he was only twenty-two years old. Don McLean's "American Pie" commemorates Buddy Holly's death. His 1971 song coined the phrase, "The day the music died."
3. His Geekiness
Buddy Holly dressed like a bank teller not a rock and roll musician. The singer embraced his nerdy look and his authenticity is what makes him a true legend. He set trends. In fact, Holly established the template for the rock band: two guitars, bass and drums.
2. His Voice
Nobody sounds like Buddy. Nobody.
1. His Songs
Holly's music has influenced everyone from The Beatles and The Rolling Stones to Bob Dylan and Eric Clapton. When you've written such stunning tunes as "Crying, Waiting, Hoping," "Not Fade Away," "Peggy Sue," "Oh Boy," and "That'll be the Day," you will be immortalized.
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