Satch of This Earth

I've got a very hairy chest....

Around 1986 or '87 I became aware of a young man named Joe Satriani. There was a write-up about his debut album, Not of this Earth, in one of the guitar magazines. He was hailed as some sort of wunderkind on the guitar, but was such a newcomer to the recording industry that hardly a soul knew who the heck he was. It wasn't until '87, when his sophomore album Surfing With the Alien dropped, that I finally got to hear what Satriani was all about.

And wow - mind-blowing guitar playing like I'd never heard before! Not only was Satch prodigious on the instrument, but he had a solid handle on songwriting and studio production. Not only was he technically jaw-dropping, but his all-instrumental pieces worked beautifully as hum-able, radio-friendly music - despite the fact that there were no vocals and the guitar pyrotechnics frequently soared into the stratosphere - often very off-putting for non-musician folks. 

But Satriani immediately caught the ears of every hard rock and metal fan and musician on this Earth. He became a guitar god virtually overnight... though I'm sure years of wood-shedding got him to that point. And the eye-catching album cover of Surfing, showing a colourful image of Marvel Comics' character Silver Surfer, certainly gave this disc an edge over more staid artwork on other new releases on store shelves. Now that Satriani had established himself within the music world, fans sought out his first and more elusive album Not of this Earth. I was fortunate enough to find it first on cassette, and then a bit later on CD. 

When I got to see Satch in a 1990 concert, he was touring on the heels of his latest effort Flying in a Blue Dream. While this disc offered yet another stunning display of guitar wizardry, it was slightly marred by Satriani's attempts at singing. Weak in the vocal department, to say the least. Those songs, had they been instrumentals, would have stood up quite nicely on their own merit, but for some reason, somebody thought singing was a good idea. But no matter, the meat of the album is highly entertaining. Highlights are the title track, Back to Shalla-Bal, The Forgotten, and The Bells of Lal.

In concert, Satriani covered key tracks from each of his albums, ensuring a pleased audience. He delighted us with several songs off the Surfing album, which to this day, remains his most powerful and masterful recording. Satch's live show was electric.... it was still hard to believe he could play that way, even while watching his fingers fly over the fretboard. It was a basic trio, just him, a bassist and a drummer, so he had to rely on some electronic trickery to fill in some of the guitar rhythms while he played more complex passages over top. Still, he is just one guy.And I think that another guitarist onstage might have felt weird. 

We are not worthy.....

Oops! Wrong Utopia

Smoke and mirrors?

Musical wiz kid Todd Rundgren headed up the band Utopia, who existed in one form or another, off and on, ever since '73. A friend back in college introduced me to Utopia's music after he learned I leaned a bit toward the progressive rock genre. I already appreciated bands like Rush - and Yes, though at the time to a lesser degree. Utopia's music was all over the place, perhaps settling into a certain feel and sound on a particular album, but then on their next recording they could drum up a whole new set of rules... or ways of breaking established musical rules. Progressive rock was flourishing during this time, with Genesis, Jethro Tull, Roxy Music, Caravan and a whole swarm of other eclectics filling the fishbowl of experimental music. And Utopia made their mark in at least some small way.

Anyway, after a little grounding in Utopia's finer moments - thanks to the loan of the band's albums - I was then faced with the opportunity to see them in concert. The price was right and the show was nearby, so I don't think I even gave it a second thought. Of course! 

I don't recall anything about Utopia's music today other than a tiny smattering of the one album that really stood out from the bunch for me, Ra. Its title borrowed from the name of the ancient Egyptian sun god, this 1977 disc featured songs of epic musical fantasy and melodic hard rockers, often with a message. Highlights of the album are Singring and the Glass Guitar, Jealousy, and Hiroshima. Singring is a fairy tale saga set to music, very eastern and exotic in texture. Hiroshima is a harrowing document of the horrors of the second world war; even the memory of its musical finale sends chills down the spine.

Going into this concert - in 1985, I could only have hoped to hear some of that older music. But for some reason, that evening was a blur for me.... and there was not even any imbibing prior to cast a haze on my memory. Anyway, I don't recall disliking the show, so I must have enjoyed it at the time. Utopia did not have a very long-lasting effect on me, though, as I rarely listened to them for the next few years, and in the decades to follow, I never bothered to revisit their music. I know I re-bought Ra sometime in the 90's, but after a couple of listens, I gave up on it. Just not very timeless music, and definitely not my cup of tea any longer. 

Opening act The Tubes were entirely new to me aside from one familiar radio hit song She's a Beauty. They were a bizarre collection of characters onstage; I seem to recall a bit of a musical and theatrical mix that baffled me. Slightly entertaining, but at the time it was mostly beyond me. Unfamiliar with their music, it was difficult for me to properly appreciate their performance. 

Iron Maiden Voyage

Why ain't Eddie here for the picture?

Captains at the helm of the New Wave of British Heavy Metal, Iron Maiden were perhaps the biggest in the true metal (for example, compared to Def Leppard) camp back at the height of that scene. Some might argue against that, but for this music fan, Maiden were the heaviest and coolest in the early-to-mid 80's. Sure, Sabbath, Priest, and Ozzy boasted even heavier sounds, but they were not of the same generation of metal; they were, in fact, the main influences for Maiden. 

Anyway, I was totally on board with Maiden when I discovered them. I am pretty sure it was in '82, when Number of the Beast was on its way to store shelves and was getting advance radio play, that I first heard these purveyors of prog-metal. It was around that time that I also heard the odd other tune from earlier Maiden albums over the airwaves on the mighty Q107. This was my cue to hunt down the albums on cassette tape (my medium of choice at the time - pre-CD or MP3 era). After adding their self-titled first album, Maiden Japan (live), and Killers to my collection, I became deeply involved in the band's lyrics and history. Naturally, the rock magazines were plastered with articles about them, so it only made sense that I accumulated piles of those mags for future reference. 

 I'd recorded a handful of Number of the Beast songs off the radio and onto tape, but upon the album's release, it was a no-brainer that I would buy it. From then on, at least until the end of the 1980's, I always eagerly anticipated each subsequent Maiden album. My Number of the Beast half-sleeve T-shirt saw plenty of wear and tear, and it was the tear that ended its residency in my clothes closet. 

It wasn't until 1988, the year Maiden toured in support of their Seventh Son of a Seventh Son album, that I had the chance to see the band in concert. Or more like I finally had some new friends who were actually interested in seeing this sort of metal show. Previously, I had to twist arms in order to get even just one friend to go to such concerts, but after moving to a new city and making new friends who were more metal-minded, this was no longer an issue. 

Sadly, Seventh Son of a Seventh Son didn't grab me like previous Maiden efforts. I think only one song, Can I Play With Madness, stood out on the set. As a result, the concert experience was all about hearing the material prior to SSOASS, and Maiden did not disappoint. I can't recall what songs from the first two albums were played, but I think it would be a good guess to say Maiden performed fan faves Running Free, Wrathchild, and maybe Killers. Then the band cranked out all the later hits and the epics that both newcomers and die-hards craved. 

While the stage design is all very hazy to me after all these years, I am certain the visual show was impressive. Maiden was, and is still, famed for their creatively imagined stage spectacles. I believe they were among the first to use massive banks of multi-coloured lighting rigs that added excitement and mood to their fantasy-oriented music. The actual stage construction is always based upon the album cover and song themes, and only some web searches reminded me of what this tour's stage looked like. A sort of ice landscape with a giant Eddie (the Maiden mascot - but you knew that) at centre-rear stage. And of course, Eddie himself lurched out onto the stage in all his rotting corpse glory for a cameo appearance. Huge applause and a roar of approval. Great guy, that Eddie.

Wrecking Crüe

Lookin' pretty.... weird

Mötley Crüe's best years - musically - were behind them when they rolled into town for a show during the fall of '87. This tour was in support of their Girls, Girls, Girls album. I was never much of a Crüe fan, though I did like a small handful of their tunes. Their GGG album didn't last long in my collection.... by my reckoning, the best Crüe music appeared on their first two discs, Too Fast for Love and Looks That Kill. It was early songs like Live Wire, Piece of Your Action, Shout at the Devil, and Looks That Kill that were among my favourites by this sleazy glam rock band out of L.A.

Wild Side and Girls, Girls, Girls were the only songs of any worth on this '87 album. When it came to Sunset Strip metal, I wasn't too fussy about it, but my tastes ran more toward the likes of Ratt, G'N'R, Dokken and even a bit of Quiet Riot. 

This concert was just a big social gathering really. My pack of pals and I had a few too many before the show and then stumbled in for a loud and raucous party with the leather and make-up crowd. Let me make it clear that WE were not wearing leather and make-up. Denim and T-shirts were more our speed. And another thing: I've never been much for the call and response schtick at concerts - you know, the singer sings a line then turns the mic to the audience for them to sing the next line... again and again. Hey, I didn't slam down my hard earned cash to hear myself and my buddies screeching terribly.... I wanted to hear Vince Neil screech terribly.

The drum solo was an excuse to show off Tommy Lee's new drum kit.... which rose up on a weird contraption and then swung completely upside down. Lee was strapped in like a fighter pilot, so he could continue to beat the skins while hanging there like a silly goose. Okay. I mean, he's no Neil Peart, so no flashy gimmickry was going to make up for his less than impressive ability.

There was little else that stuck in my brain from that night other than the dancing girls on stage. Why was Mötley Crüe the first (and only?) band to dream up this idea? Since I wasn't particularly interested in looking at Crüe in their goofy get-ups all night long, it was a nice diversion to watch the slinky vixens writhing to the head-splitting music pouring out of the stacks of amplifiers. Sort of like cheerleaders at a sports event in which I had little interest.

Now if only I could have swapped that evening for a Ratt concert... nothing like some rodent rock to really get things cookin'. 

A Barrel of Monkees is More Fun

Hey, who's that horsing around in the back there?

Dialing back the time machine to my very first music purchase, we fall upon a battered but still standing 45 rpm single. Here, dear reader, is the story of that record:

The odd kid in elementary school, Mike, was actually a nice guy once you got to know him. Still odd, but he was cool in his own way. As I struck up a friendship with this guy around grade four or five, it became apparent that we shared some musical interests. In the early 1970's, there were still plenty of 60's holdouts in syndication on television. For instance, my steady diet of TV shows included the likes of The Munsters, The Addams Family, Get Smart, Hogan's Heroes, Batman, The Beverly Hillbillies... the list goes on. 

But one of the real biggies for me at this particular time was The Monkees. From the opening drum thump of the theme song to the end credits' kickin' "For Pete's Sake", I was glued to the Monkees' TV show every day after school. 

As Wacky Mike and I were chatting about The Monkees at school one day, the conversation turned to records. Apparently, he owned some Monkees music. And I did not. He hinted at selling some records to me so he could buy more bubblegum. Thus far in my short life, I had only a handful of "kiddie" records... you know, abridged audio versions of Disney movies and such. One that I recall wearing out was The Jungle Book, with its catchy but kid-oriented "Bare Necessities". I was itching for some more grown-up music. So Mike and I struck a deal. Next day I brought a pocketful of nickels and dimes in exchange for Mike's "I'm A Believer" 45 rpm record. The disc was a bit scuffed but it played just fine on my little portable plastic record player. That machine was to eventually carve up some real rock albums that never deserved to be treated so harshly. But hey, it was all I had to work with at the time.

That record, with "Goin' Down" on the B-side, endured even more wear and tear as I listened to it endlessly for weeks and months. "I'm a Believer" especially was a favourite of mine. It wasn't long before Mike and I made yet another deal. This time Mike was ready to part with the LP "More of the Monkees". Wow, a whole album of their music, pretty much every song featured in the TV show. Heaven! From "Mary Mary" to "Sometime in the Morning", this was all primo Monkees music, and I still love to give it a spin on occasion. Sadly, that original LP is long gone, but I did more recently find a neat set of Monkees CDs sleeved in little reproductions of the original record jackets. Behold!

Def, Dumb and Rockin'

Just a bunch o' kids

Def Leppard rose to greatness amid the New Wave of British Heavy Metal in the late 70's. Their early music was tough and even sometimes raw in sound and approach, but they were more melodic than their NWOBHM cohorts. Their vocal harmonies and often radio-friendly guitar solos were the perfect ingredients for financial success. I liked them right from the start, lapping up great rockers like Wasted and Let It Go. The band also showed some talent with the ballad - which the ladies liked, and thus drew an even bigger audience.

Fast forward to the 1983: Def Leppard is huge the world over, with their album Pyromania ruling the charts, not to mention multiple hit singles and music videos. Everybody knew who they were, even those who hated the music. I missed my chance to see them in Toronto, but as consolation prize, I treated myself to a Union Jack muscle shirt, just like the one worn by singer Joe Elliott. Even though I had no muscles to speak of. My dad hated that shirt.

Still riding that success, the band suffered a tragedy.... drummer Rick Allen lost one arm in a car accident (street racing, actually). You'd think that would have been the end of his career, right? Wrong. Instead, he had an electronic drum kit built so that he could still play one-armed, this time using pedals and drum triggers to simulate many percussive sounds. Close enough, I guess.

We got to hear this robotic style on Hysteria, the band's next album. At the time, I believe we all sort of scratched our heads at the methods, but hey, the music was still fine (at the time) so we stuck with it. Then Def Leppard came to Ottawa in June of 1988, so we could witness this cyborg drum kit in action. Interesting to watch, but no big deal. The tunes still rocked, but the super slick wall of sound began to bug me. 

I totally lost interest in Leppard after Hysteria. Oh, how the mighty have fallen. Though these giants had reached heights that no metal band had ever reached before them, they had also succumbed to laziness and dropped out of the public consciousness. The songwriting became lackluster and uninspired and their sound burdened by far too much studio trickery. Not so rock and roll any more. Ah well, I can still savour those early days.