Albums that shaped my guitar playing

I was on Facebook the other day when I noticed one of my "friends" posted a list of albums for no particular reason - it was like "15 albums in 15 minutes" or some crap like that. It got me thinking, though of the albums that have shaped my taste in music and, by extension, my guitar playing.

I could easily list the top ten or so albums I'm listening to right now, but that wouldn't be the point. A list like that would tell me where I am now. I'm more interested in how I got there. The list below should answer that question. Now, not all these albums will be good. Some may be downright embarrassing. I'll go back as far as I can, at least until the first time I actually noticed guitar playing in songs and realized I needed to play. Here they are, in chronological order, at least in chronological order of their appearance in my life.

Revelations from Rush at Red Rocks

Slightly blurry photo of Rush at Red Rocks, taken from my nondescript LG flip phone.

My wife and I went to see Rush last night at Red Rocks Amphitheater outside Denver. The show was incredible, the venue was outstanding, and the traffic was minimal, at least until we got to Red Rocks (that's a big deal in the Denver metro area). The show was split into two parts with a short intermission - in the words of Geddy Lee himself, the band members are "aging rapidly" and "need to take a break." Geddy's self-deprecating humor was refreshing in an age of ego-centric celebrity.

At the beginning of both sets, the band showed short films where actors took the roles of the band members (basically just pretending to play their instruments) while the band members themselves took on other roles. Neil Peart, not surprisingly, was the most awkward and nervous of the three, owing to his introverted nature, and his scenes were short with almost no dialog. Geddy and Alex Lifeson, on the other hand, had major roles with plenty of lines. It's hard to tell who played it up the best - Geddy as the eccentric British film director or Alex as the fat, bumbling band manager (complete with over-the-top fat suit). The fact that these guys can still laugh at themselves after all these years has to be the main reason why they're not only still together as a group but also are good friends. And I gotta give props to their acting chops. Someone who didn't know Rush would have no idea they were band members and not actors.

The show was a good one, but as Neil put it in his book Roadshow, it's hard for them not to put on a good show after all these years. The only mistake I noticed was in "The Camera Eye." The transition into the second verse was blown by someone, although it was hard to tell whether it was Alex or Neil. Alex also broke a string on his PRS on the second song (which one I can't remember) and had it swapped out for his Telecaster, which was clearly not the right guitar for the song as it took a few moments of footswitch fiddling to get it to sound right. But, being true professionals, neither gaffe shook the band's focus and they just kept on going without a hiccup. Rush always give the crowd their money's worth.

They're also breaking from tradition and playing new songs on this tour. They played two, "I Was Led to Believe" and "Caravan," the latter being the better of the two.

Now back to the topic of this post. I had a few revelations at the show last night. Here they are, in no particular order:

1. At 50-plus years old, these guys can still rock. On any given night they could give any band a run for their money. Rush are still the best live band around.

2. Geddy's voice still sounds pretty good after all these years. My wife noticed that it's not what it used to be, which is true, but when he wants to he can still hit the high notes. I noticed that he saves them for a few key songs and skips them on others. This time, he saved it for the high bits in "Free Will," which he sang like a 25-year-old, and kept them out of "Marathon."

3. Red Rocks is an incredible place. Geddy called it "the most beautiful venue in North America." But for all its beauty, it is apparent that it was designed as a state park first and a concert venue second. The narrow two-lane road up to the amphitheater was a slow congested nightmare, not helped at all by people who insisted on parking their cars along the sides. And then there's the hike up way too many stairs to get to the seating area. I thought I was going to have a heart attack. My breath was shallow and my heart was pounding. No wonder they have signs along the way telling you to "check your heart rate."

4. I think I'm allergic to pot smoke. Maybe I'm out of touch, but I've never experienced that much pot smoke at a concert before, and I've seen Pink Floyd. I think pot is just so much more ingrained and accepted in our society now, even more than it was 20 years ago. Unfortunately, that meant I was inundated with smoke, even in the open air. After a while, it made me cough terribly. And not the normal I-don't-smoke-so-it-makes-me-cough kind of cough, but the allergies-gone-haywire kind of cough that I used to get in the fall in Pennsylvania when the tree pollen was high. At least I know I can never be a pothead.

5. I'm getting old. If the trek up the staircase of doom didn't prove it, the fact that I could barely stay awake on the ride home surely did. And it was only midnight! I used to stay up until 1:30, 2:00 a.m. regularly and then get up the next morning for class. Getting old sucks.

6. Ear plugs are divine. I don't know how I ever enjoyed a concert without them. I think they actually improved the sound of the band by eliminating the clipping and letting the nuances through. Plus my ears don't hurt and I can hear today.

7. Drunk, seat-hopping assholes should be shot on site. A few of these choice individuals decided to fill in an empty area next to my wife and pretty much ruined the second half of the show for us. They were loud, obnoxious, rude (they stole our seats when we went to the restroom) and they kept bumping into my wife the whole time. Between that and the pot smoke, we got fed up and left early. I missed Neil's solo! I was so pissed. Hopefully they'll make a DVD of this tour and I'll get to see what I missed.

That's it for now. Despite number seven, my wife and I had a great time and I loved seeing my favorite band again. Every time they come through the area I want to see them, because you never know which tour will be their last.

Ladies and gentlemen, Mr. Conway Twitty...

Don't make ringtones out of songs you like...

...unless you really like getting phones calls, that is. I don't. Whenever my cell phone rings, it sets off that part of my brain that really wants to punch someone in the face. Or scream. Or both, perhaps. You know, the kind of feeling where your hands clench into tight fists and you mutter something like "goddamnsonofabitchmotherfucker" through likewise clenched teeth.

Having a cell phone and being geekily inclined is sometimes a bad thing. Such was the case a few years ago when I discovered that I could hack into my Motorola Razr that had been seriously crippled by the fine folks at Verizon and add my own ringtones instead of buying them from Verizon, the reason for said crippling. I successfully gained access to my phone's tasty innards. I just had to decide what I was going to make into a ringtone. I picked "Tom Sawyer," by Rush.

Now, "Tom Sawyer" is one of my favorite songs. It holds a special place in my heart as it was the first song my high school band learned under the (false) assumption that if we could learn that song, we could learn anything. It's one of only a handful of songs I haven't forgotten since then and I can still play it from start to finish. What I'm trying to say is, I like the song.

I cropped out the first 30 seconds of the song (my first introduction to Audacity) and uploaded it to my phone. After a reboot, I switched my default ringtone to my new creation and sat back, extremely pleased with myself. I even called myself, just to hear it. Friends and coworkers gave me props on my excellent ringtone choice. I was in phone hacking heaven.

Then something started happening. Every time my phone rang, I noticed a slight buzzing sensation flow through my body. I became more tense. My blood pressure (presumably) rose. Why is this? Because I hate when the phone rings. It makes my blood boil. Unfortunately, in the great Pavlovian tradition, this same sensation started happening to me not when I got a call, but when I listened to "Tom Sawyer." Like a salivating dog who just heard the bell, I tensed up every time I heard the opening E chord. Even thinking about it now as I'm writing this brings back that feeling, if only slightly. The tone had to go. I couldn't bear to have one of my favorite songs ruined for eternity.

But did I learn? Hell no. A few months ago, armed with a new phone, I had the idea to make another ringtone, apparently suffering from some kind of temporary selective amnesia. This time, the victim was "The Truth Will Set You Free" from the Flower Kings, another favorite. I also wanted to show off my increased Audacity skizz-ills and instead of cropping off the first 30 seconds, which is so easy a trained monkey could do it, I took a specific 30-second clip from the middle of the track. Talk about feeling pleased with myself.

As before, though, the same Pavlovian response started happening whenever I heard that song. So that ringtone, too, had to go. I'm thinking of this now because I'm currently listening to that song for the first time since I switched my ringtone back to something normal, and I'm hoping that, when said 30-second segment plays through my headphones, it...

Goddamnsonofabitchmotherfucker...

Oh well. Guess it was too soon.

Prog backlash?

Before I discovered the 90s neo-prog movement, I discovered another band that are legendary in their Canadian homeland but only have a small cult following in the states - The Tragically Hip.

In my opinion, the Hip really didn't hit their stride until their third album, Fully Completely. In fact, it's so good that it makes a strong case for the title of Best Album You've Never Heard Of. Before that, they were a twangy, roadhouse-style bar band, and although they had some good songs on their first two albums, they don't compare to Fully Completely, or to what they put out afterward.

I only bring this up because lately I've had a peculiar urge to listen to their second album, Road Apples. It's strange because not only is it not my favorite Hip album, it's not even in the top 5. It's not that it's a bad album per se, but it's still from their twang era, even though the writing is much stronger than their first album, Up To Here. Being an analytical guy, I'm intrigued by this puzzle and want to figure out why this sudden urge appeared. The only thing I can think of it that it's some kind of backlash from all the prog I've been listening to lately.

I love progressive rock. It's complex music featuring long-form suites, heady lyrics and dazzling instrumental performances. It's also a lot to take in. Sure there are some shorter, simpler songs - "June" from Spock's Beard comes to mind - but for the most part, listening to prog is as much a mental exercise as it is an enjoyable experience. It's this complexity, though, that I think lead to this sudden urge for cleaner, simpler music.

Not that the Hip are simple. They're definitely a more traditional rock band, but they're also known for singer Gord Downie's rather cryptic lyrics, one reason why I really like them. They also continually evolve their sound with each album, experimenting with new sonic palettes in the context of traditional rock, another reason why I like them. Perhaps that's why I'm drawn to Road Apples now - it represents their early sound, before it evolved past country-tinged, smoky-bar rock. I think my brain is, in its own way, asking for a break from all the complex prog so it can just relax and enjoy the music.

Time to fire up Media Player and cue up Road Apples. Who am I to ignore a request from my brain?

R.I.P. Alex Chilton

Just found out today that Alex Chilton died yesterday of an apparent heart attack at age 59. Many of you probably don't know who he is, and the sad thing is, if it wasn't for a stroke of pure luck, I wouldn't know who he is either, and that would be a shame.

One day I was perusing the Web and stumbled onto AllMusic.com. Their "Album of the Day" was something I've never seen before. The album cover was a neon sign depicting a star with the word "big" inside. Intrigued, I clicked through and found out it was Big Star's first album, #1 Record. After reading the glowing review and researching the band, I realized I had to hear what they sounded like, so I got #1 Record, along with their second album, Radio City. I read that discovering Big Star's music is a life-changing event - you will forever date your musical tastes as being pre-Big Star and post-Big Star - and after hearing both albums, I have to agree.

Big Star is the great lost American rock band. Formed by Chilton and Chris Bell in Memphis, they set out to become the next Lennon-McCartney, recording music that, as AllMusic.com said, was both out of date and ahead of its time. Chilton was already soured on the music industry, having been the lead singer of the Box Tops and seeing how the industry used the band for its own purposes. Unfortunately, nothing in the history of Big Star would change his mind - both Big Star records, while critically acclaimed, were held back due to record industry issues and never reached the audience they deserved. The band broke up after two albums, with a third being issued much later - the songs were recorded but the album never completed. You can do the research on your own, but they're pretty much one of the best bands that almost were.

Chilton's music was paradoxically brilliant. It was sad yet hopeful, simple yet poignant, and it was all wrapped up in a style that was the complete opposite of the type of big, arena-rock sound that was prevalent at the time. Bands like R.E.M. and Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers cite Big Star as an influence. I implore anyone who's intrigued by Big Star to pick up #1 Record and Radio City. You won't regret it.

Rest in peace, Alex. I'll be blasting #1 Record through my headphones at work today, just for you.

(NOTE: The picture I added on top is one I found somewhere on the Internet. I liked it because he's playing the exact same model of guitar I own, except mine's black. I don't know where I got it. I'm not trying to infringe on copyrights, so I'm going to assume it's OK to use.)

It's a proggy life

I figured by now I should let you know what kind of music I like and, more importantly, what kind of music I'm going to record. This is the part where I alienate the few readers I have because I don't have mainstream tastes. Then again, recording techniques are recording techniques, so whatever I use to make my recordings can be used to make any music, including bad music.

I'm a prog kinda guy. Progressive rock, in case you didn't know the abbreviation. What is progressive rock? Well, this link explains it a little, and although it's meant to be funny it's also mostly true. Prog is rock music that pushes the boundaries of traditional rock music with high levels of musicianship, extended song lengths, multi-movement pieces, different instruments (anything with a keyboard is a good fit here), odd time signatures, and more conceptual lyrics. In fact, any time you hear the term "concept album" you're almost always talking about a progressive rock act.

There's been a celebrity sighting...

...on my little blog! At least I think so.

More importantly, I hope so.

I wrote this post the other day about my dislike for tremolos. In it, I mentioned a few guitarists who seem to not only have no problem with tremolos, but actually thrive with them. The first guitarist I mentioned was Alan Morse from Spock's Beard. The Beard are one of my favorite bands - in fact, discovering their music was one of the influences in my decision to start writing and recording music. I love Alan's playing on their records and I still can't believe does what he does on a guitar without using a pick. I've tried playing fingerstyle like he does and I'm terrible at it.

Anyway, I got a comment on that post (my first one!) and it appeared to be from Mr. Morse himself. Now, the Internet is an anonymous place where anyone can pretend to be anybody, but I think it's legit, considering one important fact: no one reads my blog! At least not enough to encourage that kind of imitation. I'm guessing he found the post by Googling his name and he was nice enough to leave a comment.

When I saw that comment, man was I pumped! It really did make my day, if not my whole weekend. To think that one of my favorite guitarists and someone I admire and draw inspiration from actually visited my little corner of the 'Net! I've just recently carved out this corner for myself and I'm still trying to build some readership. I hope Alan stops by more often and enjoys my stumbling through the recording and writing process, and even gives some advice now and then. I'd be honored if he did.

I also apologize for milking this. I can't help it if I'm excited!

Shameless plug: I also can't wait until the new Beard album comes out this year. I plan on reviewing it here as soon as I get it. Everyone should check it out! If you can't wait, pick up their last album, the excellent self-titled Spock's Beard.

What's in a name?

I've got a number for you:

One.

That's how many bands I've been in.

Impressive, huh? I'm not only here to give advice, I'm also here to make you feel better about your own lousy music career.

But I don't even tell anyone about it. It's not that I'm not proud to have been in the band, or that I don't like my former bandmates (on the contrary - I still think of them as some of my best friends). It's the name. It's embarrassing. And the worst part is, it was my idea.

The name?

Amethyst.

Good name for a Whitesnake cover band, isn't it?

The thing is, I didn't even want to use that name. I literally pulled it out of my ass. I thought there would be more debate about it, but there wasn't. It went something like this:

The band: We need a name.

My ass: How about Amethyst?

The band: Sounds great, let's jam.

OK, so it didn't quite go that way, but you get the idea. No forethought was involved in that suggestion, and the rest of the band members ate it up. Lucky me.

Because of this, I tend to think of band names. A lot. I've had many a boring job where I would spend hours just thinking of good band names. That's where I got the idea for the name of this blog, which is also going to be the band name I put on my recordings.

I was proud of this name. It comes from a Monty Python sketch, if you don't know. Plus, at least when I thought of it, there were no other Pantomime Horses in the music biz. I Googled the name and got a song title, but no bands. I thought I'd hit the jackpot.

Then I found out Amethyst's former drummer was in a band named Pantomime Horse. Then I re-Googled the name and found a person just like me - a one-man band - had taken the name, too.

Damn.

No matter. I like the name and I'm sticking with it. At least until the lawsuit comes.

At least I can still think band names.