Magic Jewball

This is going to be an interactive post. Pencils ready? OK. You know how on Sex and the City, Carrie always sat in front of her laptop and thought, “I began to wonder…?” I’m doing that right now!

Let’s back up a little. In my office at work is a giant duratran of Nirvana from the Nevermind era. (A duratran is the big square poster that goes in the lightbox display of a store - it’s made of a special material that lets the light show through). I don’t have it up so much because I’m a huge Nirvana fan, because I’m not, although I have all their CD’s and I still like them. It’s more because, well, I work in the music business and it reminds me of somewhere near the start of my career when I worked in a record store and Nirvana was shockingly getting bigger and bigger. I remember being amazed that the label would spring for the cost of the duratrans (they’re pricey) and reserving the space (even pricier) for a band like that when there were Mariah Careys about. And I remember when I bought Nevermind, I bought it on cassette because I only knew the one song they were playing on WHFS and I was afraid to use all my hard-to-find college dollars on the spendy CD. We only got one copy in the store. One! That’s what a small release it was. The reason I recall this is because the case was cracked and since we only had one, I had to switch the plastic cassette-case with one from a promotional copy of something else.

So why is this relevant now? The other day, I was sitting waiting for the subway (I got one of six seats - this is bad, it means I just missed the previous train) and standing right near me was a tween boy, like 12 or 13, with a backpack sporting a Nirvana patch. This is the part where I began to wonder. Can this boy ever really know and love Nirvana? Who has the better fan experience? The person who witnessed the whole mad scene, the sea change in the sort of music that was popular, the bitter end? Or the kid who was born after it ended and discovers them after it’s all over? And I ask this question from the other side too, because I consider myself a big Beatles fan but they broke up before I was born and I missed the mania, the screaming, the “oh my God the new single is out, he got married, they’re going to appear on Ed Sullivan” part of things. Can it ever be the same for me? Plus, I already knew it was this huge cultural happening before I started. I came to the music knowing it had changed the world.

But on the other hand, the music comes to me untainted, without any extraneous stuff. It’s just music, not lunchboxes, not gossip, not visuals. It’s a finished work, like seeing the TV season on DVD over one weekend rather than eagerly awaiting the next episode after the cliffhanger. I never had to worry about what Yoko would do to the Beatles, it was already done if there was anything to be done. The same as how this kid probably doesn’t worry what effect wacky Courtney Love will have on Nirvana’s output. The same as the young’uns in my office who think I bought the duratran on eBay. When I say it was from my store, the store in which I worked, and I took it home at the end of its run in the lightbox, they get that “gosh, Grandma, tell me more!” look on their faces.

By the way, I’m not comparing Nirvana and the Beatles, they’re just examples.

Anyway, this is the kind of thing that goes through my head when I’m waiting for the train and trying to ignore the whistling Spanish guitar-playing busker. The punchline, by the way, is that this boy was actually standing apart from his family (just like young Becca on vacation with her family!) and was a French tourist. So he wouldn’t have experienced “Nirvana changes American music” up close even if he’d been born years earlier.

And now, for the interactive part. Please make your feelings known in the comments. Can the kids ever be as big fans as the people who lived through the band’s heyday and watched it all develop and explode? Or is it easier to love the music when it’s only that, music, and not caught in a whirlwind of hype? If you’re not a music fan, don’t feel left out! You can talk about your lunchbox or Ed Sullivan.

Well, obviously the title comes from Stairway to Heaven, and Led Zeppelin are another group who already were legendary, had a member die, and broke up before I was aware but this post isn’t about them.

This is my favorite Nirvana song. If you can’t feel the line, “I’m not like them but I can pretend,” then you haven’t been a teenager.

Nirvana - Dumb

This isn’t my usual fun and entertaining post so if that isn’t your thing (and since I set up this blog to be fun and entertain you, I understand, believe me) you might want to come back, say, day after tomorrow.

Still here? OK.

I know there’s always lots of hand-wringing and angst when something horrible happens and it cuts close to your own bone. It could have been me! you think. This is my “it could have been me” so you’ll bear with me while I take a moment (or a post) to remember this one. And, well, if you love music, this could also have been you. It’s been exactly five years since the fire at The Station nightclub in West Warwick, Rhode Island and honestly, I find myself just as freaked out now as I was then. If you don’t remember, a lot of people who just wanted to hear rock & roll on a cold night packed themselves into a tiny club, sat through two opening acts, and then got all psyched when the headliner, Great White, played the opening notes of their set. That’s when it all went wrong. Pyrotechnics were set off, the ceiling was low, the soundproofing which covered every surface was ultra-flammable, there were few exits, the hallway out was narrow…. a hundred people died and scores more had horrific injuries. They were all ages, mostly working class, some were parents, one was in the band.

I sometimes try to analyze why this fire affected me so much emotionally and still does. Maybe it’s because I find myself in little clubs all the time and I see the way they are set up. I probably wouldn’t make it out of very many of them alive in that situation. Maybe it’s because I worked on one Great White album, although I never met them. But really, I think it’s simply because these folks, from what I’ve read, were super-excited to see a national act, a band of their youth, music they loved. And that’s me any day of the week.

This past weekend, there was an article in the Times about a couple of the survivors. They are deformed, scarred, blinded. Can’t work or tie their shoes. This paragraph in the story gripped me:

Many believe the circumstances of their misfortune — that they were blue-collar folks gathered in a scruffy club to hear Great White, a has-been “hair metal” band from the ’80s — also help explain the lack of interest.

But you see, that’s exactly what makes me care so passionately about them. Could anyone love music more than they did? And that’s why they died or lost loved ones or are scarred for life. Because they loved music and wanted to experience it, just like you and I.

I think about the people in The Station literally every time I am at a show, scoping out the exits before the music starts. But according to this article, people seem to have mostly forgotten. Most of those responsible are serving little if any time. The settlement, if any, will probably just cover the most pressing needs of the desperate survivors. The fund they have set up, as it stands, can cover six months of medical treatment. So, I just wanted to pass onto you the link to the Station Family Fund, in case you want to do something as badly as I do.

From an article in the Providence Journal linked to below:

According to Todd King, a board member and past president of the fund, [Howard] Stern was surprised to learn that the fund and the survivors were in need. “I thought those people were taken care of,” King remembers Stern saying.

“No one was taken care of,” King says.

You can read about the fund, how little they have, and where it goes, here, and donate here. Either way, just don’t forget them. And check the exits before you lose yourself in the music in that club.

Yeah, I picked 80’s pop-metal on purpose.
Skid Row - I Remember You

Well, not really. More on this later.

Happy Pitchers & Catchers Reporting Day! Sorry, I know I’ve been MIA for a bit but I’ve been busy and you know that must be true because my TiVo is full. If you could see my TiVo. Also, I have a ReplayTV and not a TiVo but that’s neither here nor there.

Anyway, a couple of follow-up items. Firstly, regarding my bemoaning the loss of a radio station that I don’t even receive, there’s actually a new rock radio station in New York and I do receive it! It’s called WRXP and it’s at 101.9. It’s basically rock of the 70’s, 80’s, 90’s, and today all mashed together. For instance, the other day I heard The Doors, Arctic Monkeys, and Soundgarden in close proximity, which was groovy, especially because Peace Frog is amongst my favorite Doors songs (who else could take a lyric like “there’s blood in the streets, it’s up to my ankles!” and enable you to dance to it?). So give that a try if you are in or near our fine, fine city and its steroid-laced baseball players.

Next, kb asked me in a comment which I so rudely didn’t answer (because I knew I’d put it in my next post, I just didn’t know it would be three days later - sorry!) about the song I posted there. What is that smoky, mysterious Feist song in French? It sounds like an Erik Satie number! This is because it is, actually, just with Arthur H’s lyrics over it. And he’s joined by Feist. I really adore this song and as I said in the comment, the lyrics are sung so slowly that even I can understand them. If only I could sing as low as Arthur H and as high as Feist, I’d be set. Now as to where you can get it, uh, that’s trickier. It’s not available as a download on iTunes or Napster. So, you’ll be left to your own devices on that one. So, *cough*, here it is.

Arthur H a/Feist - La Chanson De Satie
http://tinyurl.com/yqmgyp

If you like it, and I know you will, feel free to buy the whole album, it’s a reasonable $13.98 as of this writing at Amazon. I want to hear it just for the song called “Ma Dernière Nuit à New York City.”

Lastly, this isn’t a follow-up to anything, I just like snow, and it enabled me to title this post with its current header. And we finally got some. For a few hours. The guy at right has a shovel. I don’t. This is why I love living in New York.

The Doors - Peace Frog

Do you remember when your favorite radio station died? Because I’m sure it’s dead by now, even if it’s been reincarnated in a wholly different form. If the station you grew up with is exactly the same now, I’ll give you a nickel. See, mine died about 15 times. First there there was a lawsuit and it was given to another owner who pretended it was the same, but it never really was. Half the DJ’s left but they mostly came back. My true station, WLIR, had the Screamer of the Week. The new station, WDRE (a play on LIR’s slogan “The Station That Dares to be Different”), had the “Shriek of the Week.” Nice, right? I mean, they still played the stuff no one else in the area was playing, stuff from the UK, non-album-tracks, weirdo New Wave acts and such, Depeche Mode all day, etc., but it felt cheap. Eventually, it shifted formats several times, to Modern Rock, to AAA (Adult Album Alternative), yadda yadda. Along the way, it became WLIR again but by then I no longer was in an area that got reception so I pretty much lost track of all that.

I did notice when it was bought by Univision and went Spanish in 2004. That felt like death. Just like the first time they were forced off the air, they played Alphaville’s Forever Young and closed. But they were reborn! On a frequency no one was able to receive, but that was OK, they also had the Interweb and we all get that, don’t we? But you know, all those deaths weren’t enough and even that incarnation became a smooth jazz station (because there’s so much non-smooth jazz out there). But that failed! And WLIR came back! Until this week, when it closed for good and became an affiliate of ESPN radio. So farewell to my station which died a thousand deaths.

And here’s to my favorite DJ’s: Donna Donna, Nancy Abramson, Malibu Sue, Denis McNamara, Larry the Duck, Ben Manilla, Mark the Shark, Bob Waugh, and lots of others who were my daily companions. One of the highlights of my first label gig was when the Alternative Promotion lady let me talk to Bob Waugh on the phone and ask him some questions. He ended the call by saying, “thanks for calling in!” I guess that’s the way DJ’s close their calls in real life too.

Most of the iPod Songs of the Week, I heard them on WLIR first. The kind of music that people consider 80’s music now was only played here on LIR: U2, Culture Club, Depeche Mode, The Cure, The Smiths, Squeeze, Tears For Fears, The Ramones, The Clash. Some bands who didn’t become popular in the general world until the 90’s were already played on LIR in the 80’s: REM, Red Hot Chili Peppers, B-52’s. Z100, the popular Top 40 station here, was playing the Footloose soundtrack and Madonna and Genesis and Wang Chung. Eventually they got around to music LIR had been all over for months. This is why as a child I was a Police and U2 fan when my friends were listening to pop. I remember going to England as a teenager and finding that all the bands I had to go to the tiny underground (literally, it was underground) record store to find were front and center in the regular racks… like Bryan Adams was here. It was like I’d died and gone to New Wave heaven.

So thanks, WLIR, for daring to be different and making me the music fan I am today. Satellite radio rocks my world now but it will never be in my heart the way the stations of my youth were. RIP.

Alphaville - Forever Young