Bob Segarini’s Weekend Roundup

 

The Weekend Roundup Presents The Rock Files: When Radio and Records Ruled the World Part 9a – The Rock Era…explaining Jimi Hendrix to your Grandmother.

 Part 9 and links to 1-8 can be found here.

In 1967 radio was faced with an increasing amount of releases that were pushing the tried and true forms of popular music off to the side for many of their listeners…and alienating others at the same time. For some, the new music was an exciting and revolutionary departure from what had gone before. To others, it was simply an annoyance and referred to by many as “That hippie crap…” Like it or not, the new music was about to change the course of radio history, and open the door to the wealth of music that most young people had never been exposed to.

The only way to put the Monkees/Hendrix tour into perspective would be to imagine a Lady Ga Ga tour with the Allman Brothers as the opening act. One, a pop culture phenomenon whose prescence was elevated by her visual accesibility and show business savvy, the other, a group of musicians whose sole selling point was the incredible music they make and their complete lack of artifice. Not to say that Jimi’s concept of showmanship was lacking…far from it. An intimidating black man dressed like a peacock who would make sexual references with his guitar, play it behind his back or with his teeth, and occasionally set it on fire at the beginning of his career in London and when he followed The Who at Monterey (which he reportadly hated and quit doing as soon as people started showing up at his performances to see him torch a Strat instead of listen to his music) his main interest was playing, reinventing his material time and time again, jamming it out and wringing every possibility out of the material, and the instrument he played it on. A lion brought to sheep provided by a musically motivated, but comparitively lightweight enabler, The Monkees.

The Monkees core audience at the time were tweenage girls and the mothers and grandmothers that accompanied them to concerts. You can imagine the dropped jaws, raised eyebrows, and shocked (not to mention uncomfortable) reaction when Jimi strutted onto the stage instead of four fresh faced, well scrubbed television approved teen idols whose series was all pastels, running and skipping, and dressing up like the Three Stooges and getting into trouble which would always have a happy ending by the time the episode was over. At least on the surface.

The Monkees were wonderfully, insidiously, subversive, their drug references and sexual energy subtly infused in their program, that worked subliminally with the more astute hip crowd, but lay just beneath the surface for most. And let’s face it, there never would have been a public outcry about Hendrix if some grandmas and moms didn’t feel a twinge ‘down there’ and be terrified that little Debbie just might get one too. Hypocricy aimed at Jimi, ignored in the case of non threatening boys like the Monkees, even though everybody was getting laid by teens, moms and grandmas left and right. It was the ‘60’s, baby, and being a musician was like having money and power without all the bullshit. Kind of like being a ‘celebrity’ is now.

In a nutshell, Jimi and the Monkees did not mix well. Like gin and rootbeer, they were destined not to be. Hendrix lasted 7 shows, most of which consisted of his set being interrupted by teenyboppers screaming for individual Monkees, and although the Monkees themselves were in awe of him, Jimi had had enough and in New York, gave the finger to the audience in mid set, and walked off stage. The Monkees let him leave the tour, which was no longer worth the trouble for Hendrix because he was finally starting to break in North America. Radio had discovered The Experience and he could now tour on his own.

For an absolutely fascinating (and accurate) sumnation of this event, go here.

One of the reasons radio had begun playing Jimi’s single was due to a little FM radio station in San Francisco called KMPX. Record companies on both sides of the Atlantic were popping out albums and singles in ‘record’ numbers from bands no one had ever heard of, and the tastemakers and musos, especially the members of existing, well known acts, were touting this stuff to anyone who would listen.

The Beatles had already reacted (and had been an inspiration to some extent) to the new music with Sgt. Pepper, and the Rolling Stones had added a psychedelic element to their music with Her Satanic Majesty’s Request, throwing out an existing album-in-progress after hearing Sgt. Pepper and starting all over again. The Monkees were spreading the word and adding depth to their music as well. Kootch and I spent more than one night jamming with The Monkees in studio C at RCA playing music that Monkee fans would have choked on.

In England, the Yardbirds, Donovan, Cream, Arthur Brown, Pink Floyd and others were making waves. In Canada, the Paupers, Kaleidoscope and more were making headway, and in America, bands like the Blues Magoos, Strawberry Alarm Clock, Vanilla Fudge and the Doors were having hits. Even with all of that, traditional AM radio was ignoring a huge amount of material that just didn’t fit in with their now structured formats. All of that music was being played on KMPX, and AM was paying attention, cherry picking what worked for them, and leaving the rest behind, even creating edited versions of songs like Light My Fire to shorten them so they would fit into the current  radio format.

While AM radio was skimming the top of the new musical force that had been unleashed by playing selected tracks they thought would break through to their mainstream audiences, Tom Donahue’s little FM station was tearing a rift in the very fabric of what music radio was all about. Artists would hang out at his station whenever they could, bringing newly recorded records to whoever was on the air, and more often than not, be invited to sit in, play the music, and chat about their band or songs or whatever.

I was listening to KMPX one night when someone I had worked with, Mike Olsen, better known to older rock fans as Lee Michaels, (pictured here) walked into the station with his new (and first) LP called Carnival of Life. It was around midnight. Did he drop off the LP? Did it go into a music meeting the next week? Did he sit in the lobby waiting to talk to someone?

Nope.

He was ushered into the control room, invited to sit in, and spent the next hour or so on the air with the disc jockey playing every track on the album and discussing the music and taking calls between songs. Imagine that.

This was common practice at early FM ‘underground’ stations in the late ‘60’s and early ‘70’s, and The Family Tree, Roxy, and The Wackers, the touring bands I was in in those days, saw the inside of the many FM stations that sprang up in the wake of KMPX’s successful arrival in 1967. Record promo guys, radio people and artists got to know one another, friendships developed, and the simbiotic relationship between the was enhanced by the shared love of music, and the desire to be around like minded people who followed the latest acts and genres. The first time I was ever in Montreal, the WEA (Warner Atlantic Electra) rep, Roger DeJardiens, picked us up at our hotel and took us to the groovy record stores like Phantasmagoria and Caravan Records, and to the local FM outlet, CHOM (pictured here), a statio that had started out simulcasting it’s sister AM station, CKGM, switched to beautiful music in 1963, and re-invented itself as an ‘Underground’ station in 1969. The disc jockeys became close friends, and the station itself became a home away from home when we were in Montreal. The bands, the stations, the record companies, we were all part of a community. Not one artist in those days could brag he had been shot 9 times as a selling point for his music. We were all interested in each other’s music, hanging out with one another whenever tours took us to friends home towns, running into each other on the road, and depending on local jocks and record reps who had befriended us earlier to plug us into whatever was going on in their cities while we were there. There were even AM stations like CKOC in Hamilton Ontario and jocks like Pete Daly that would allow interviews at night, and play album cuts when you were a guest, but during the day, you sat in the lobby, cooling your heels, until someone had a minute to see you.

Musically, things were moving pretty fast. After Sgt. Pepper, everybody just went nuts. You never knew what kind of music would be on an album from artists you were familiar with, let alone new artists. Experimentation, trying new things, cross breeding genres…it was open season on complacency, and creativity was the weapon of choice.  Some artists were re-inventing themselves with every release

By the end of the ‘60’s the pyschedelic movement gave way to pure musical adventurism. Artists who had had their minds opened to new possibilities by the rampant drug use and cross pollinating musical influences began to take this new information and knowledge and apply it to their preferred genre of music. Interesting things began to happen.

There was a sudden plethora of ‘Power Trios’, brought about by the success of Jimi Hedrix and then Cream, there were bands that had embraced country influences like Gram Parsons, who impacted greatly on the Rolling Stones and the Byrds…and there was a return to American Blues, but with the added elements from the journey through psychedelic music, drug fueled experimentation, and plain old devotion to a respected and much loved form of music. Clapton took his love of blues to Cream, Jeff Beck and Rod Stewart made  a defining album called ‘Truth’, and Jimmy Page reformed the Yardbirds by combining folk music, blues, and hard rock into something that was much more than just another band. It was the cornerstone of the Rock Era.

When I was in the Family Tree we played a lot in the Pacific Northwest and British Columbia. One of the best shows we ever did in Vancouver B.C was a big concert at PIE, the Pacific International Exhibition. Our good friends (and extraordinary band) the Magic Fern, were opening the show, we were on next, and then the headliners. I was sitting in the penalty box area of the venue, smoking Lark cigarettes and nursing a bottle of Jack Daniels waiting to do a sound check. I can’t remember where everybody else was, but it was just me and a skinny guy pacing back and forth in front of me while the Fern did their souncheck.

The constant pacing started to get on my nerves, so I asked the guy if he wanted a haul on the bottle of Daniels. When he came over to accept my offer, I asked him what he was pacing back and forth about.

“Bloody fucking guy” he began, He’s killing them at the Marquee and me friends are saying he’s the greatest guitar player they’ve ever seen.”

“So?”, I responded.

“I’M THE GREATEST GUITAR PLAYER THEY’VE EVER SEEN!”, He cried, spitting Jack all over the bench I was sitting on.

Whoa…this guy is intense.

“What’s his name?”, I asked him, wiping the Jack off my pants.

“Jimi Hendrix” the answer came back.

“My name’s Bob”, I said, sticking out my hand, “What’s yours? “

“Jimmy Page. I’m the guitar player in the New Yardbirds.”

The headlining band.

Jimmy’s concern was well founded, but he really didn’t have anything to worry about. Driven by the competition, he would rise to the occasion over the next several months and, along with Eric Clapton’s Cream, give Hendrix a run for his money. That night I saw the New Yardbirds, and Page blew the roof off the place.

From Wikipedia… The beginning of Led Zeppelin can be traced back to the English blues influenced rock band The Yardbirds. Jimmy Page joined The Yardbirds in 1966 to replace the original bassist, Paul Samwell-Smith, who had decided to leave the group. Shortly after, Page switched from bass to lead guitar, creating a dual-lead guitar line up with Jeff Beck. Following the departure of Beck from the group in October 1966, The Yardbirds, tired from constant touring and recording, were beginning to wind down. Page wanted to form a Supergroup with himself and Beck on guitars, and The Who’s rhythm section—drummer Keith Moon and bassist John Entwhistle. Vocalists Steve Winwood and Steve Marriott were also considered for the project.  The group never formed, although Page, Beck and Moon did record a song together in 1966, “Beck’s Bolero” which is featured on Beck’s 1968 album, Truth. The recording session also included bassist-keyboardist John Paul Jones, who told Page that he would be interested in collaborating with him on future projects.

The Yardbirds played their final gig in July 1968. However, they were still committed to performing several concerts in Scandinavia, so drummer Jim McCarty and vocalist Keith Relf authorised Page and bassist Chris Dreja to use the Yardbirds name to fulfill the band’s obligations. Page and Dreja began putting a new line-up together. Page’s first choice for lead singer, Terry Reid,  declined the offer, but suggested Robert Plant,a West Bromwich singer. Plant eventually accepted the position, recommending a drummer, John Bonham from nearby Redditch.  When Dreja dropped out of the project to become a photographer (he would later take the photograph that appeared on the back of Led Zeppelin’s debut album), John Paul Jones, at the suggestion of his wife, contacted Page about the vacant position. Being familiar with Jones’ credentials, Page agreed to bring in Jones as the final piece.

Page could not have put together a more perfect band for the times. This was a group of seriously talented musicians, and a singer who continues to inspire rock singers 40 years later. And that is the secret of Led Zepplin. They are great players, Plant is a great singer, and that is what resonates still, those incredible records and performances. The material they played? Almost all of it borrowed and altered to accommodate their style. It wasn’t about the songs with Zeppelin…it was about what they did with them, making them their own to the point where audiences still believe those are “Zeppelin songs”. Quite an achievement.

Here’s how the process works. The Original, the  arrangement, and the finished “Zeppelin Song.” Zeppelin proved you didn’t have to write a song to make it your own, so much so, that most fans of the band don’t believe that anyone other than the members of Zeppelin had anything to do with the songs they made famous.

If not for FM radio, chances are good that Zeppelin would have disappeared after the first album. AM radio gave the single, “Good Times, Bad Times” a bit of airplay, but little else. Music fans, word of mouth, and FM radio made the band hugely powerful and well known, and for the first time, AM radio had little to do with the enormous success of a musical entity embraced by young people. Things were changing, and even further differences would separate AM and FM over the next few years.

I’m not saying a word about A&R Online this week. It has to do with the ongoing Rock Files serial and I would rather discuss anything about the songs contained within in Monday’s mailbag, but this week’s edition is a departure from the usual A&R’s. If you want to hear more stories about the songs this week, just drop me a note. Go here and click on “A&R Online 48”

Win of the Week

Amy Mech

This is my daughter, and my grandson Marshall. They are the win of the week this week because Marshall is going to become a big brother in August when Amy presents him with a Lisa to his Bart. Amy is the bravest, and most loving person I know, and both her mother and I could not be prouder. Thanks, Ames for giving us a great son-in-law, a beautiful boy, and the wonderful news of a another baby on the way as beautiful as you are. Daddy loves you, Marshall, and Tim very much

Fail of the Week

The TTC

Idiotically long waits in freezing weather for streetcars that either travel in packs or never come, constant delays on the subway lines, and buses that lurch when they move and throw passengers hither thither and yon.

Where, exactly, do they spend all those fare increases, Tim Horton’s? The service seems to be getting worse, not better. For God sake at least either install radiant heat where we wait for the buses and streetcars or get the damn things on a better schedule. Waiting for up to an hour at one end of the city because something has happened on the other end of the city is ridiculous. It wouldn’t be so bad if there was some form of protection from the cold weather during the winter…

Parting Shot

How influential was the cover of Sgt. Pepper?

A Gallery of Sgt. Pepper’s visual impact over the last 40 years, and it was just a photograph.

And here’s a Who’s Who of the cover.

 

Sri Yukteswar (Indian Guru) 2. Aleister Crowley (black magician) 3. Mae West 4. Lenny Bruce 5. Stockhausen (modern German composer) 6. W.C. Fields 7. Carl Jung (psychologist) 8. Edgar Allen Poe 9. Fred Astaire 10. Merkin (American artist) 12. Huntz Hall (Bowery Boy) 13. Simon Rodia (creater of Watts Towers) 14. Bob Dylan 15. Aubrey Beardsly (Victorian artist) 16. Sir Robert Peel (Police pioneer) 17. Aldous Huxley (philosopher) 18. Dylan Thomas (Welsh poet) 19. Terry Southern (author) 20. Dion (American pop singer) 21. Tony Curtis 22. Wallace Berman (Los Angeles artist) 23. Tommy Handley (wartime comedian) 24. Marilyn Monroe 25. William Buroughs (author) 26. Mahavatar Babaji (Indian Guru) 27. Stan Laurel 28. Richard Lindner (New York artist)

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29. Oliver Hardy 30. Karl Marx 31. H.G. Wells 32. Paramhansa Yogananda (Indian Guru) 33. Stuart Sutcliffe 35. Max Muller 37. Marlon Brando 38. Tom Mix (cowboy film star) 39. Oscar Wilde 40. Tyrone Power 41. Larry Bell (modern painter) 42. Dr. Livingstone 43. Johnny Weissmuller (Tarzan) 44. Stephen Crane (American writer) 45. Issy Bonn (comedian) 46. George Bernard Shaw 47. Albert Stubbins (Liverpool footballer) 49. Lahiri Mahasaya (Indian Guru) 50. Lewis Carol 51. Sonny Liston (boxer) 52 – 55. The Beatles (in wax) 57. Marlene Dietrich 58. Diana Dors 59. Shirley Temple 60. Bobby Breen (singing prodigy) 61. T.E. Lawrence (Lawrence of Arabia)

And the original cover.

 

And now the fun begins…

Japanese Electronic version of Sgt. Pepper by  Jun Fukamach

Thank you, Frank

 

…and Davy. Mickey, Mike, and Peter.

 

And Eric…

 

And Matt Goerning…twice!

 

…and finally, this.

 

Next Wednesday The Rock Files: When Radio and Records Ruled The World continues with Part 10 Southern Rock and Disco add to the confusion.

See you on Monday…

That’s enough for now. Email me at segarini@fyimusic.ca with your comments, complaints, and thoughts…and remember…don’t believe a word I say.

Bob “The Iceman” Segarini was in the bands The Family Tree, Roxy, The Wackers, The Dudes, The Segarini Band, and Cats and Dogs, and nominated for a Juno for production in 1978. He also hosted “Late Great Movies” on CITY TV, was a producer of Much Music, and an on-air personality on CHUM FM, Q107, SIRIUS Sat/Rad’s Iceberg 95, (now 85), and now provides content for radiothatdoesntsuck.com with RadioZombie, The Iceage, and PsychShack. Along with the love of his life, Jade (Pie) Dunlop, (who hosts and writes “I’ve Heard That Song Before” on RTDS), continues to write, make music, and record.