Okay,
I'm sure everyone's got their own list of exciting moments, and I encourage anyone to post their
own faves and refute mine. And along the way, we'll test the limits of
what is, or isn't, rock'n'roll. But that said, here we go...
11. Come on, come on now…- The Doors,
"Touch Me" (The Soft Parade):
Okay, so my Top Ten list goes to eleven. Blame Spinal Tap. In the years since
Jim Morrison's death, his legend as a poet-shaman has overshadowed what great
pop instincts the band had. "Touch Me"'s long, pounding intro builds
to a crescendo, then abruptly stops, giving Morrison a clean shot at nailing
his vocal entrance. Which he does, right to the wall. (And stick around for the
killer sax solo on the outro.)
10. It's…alive! - Aerosmith, "Train
Kept A'Rollin'" (Get Your Wings):
Steven, Joe and the boys do a nice, heavy, medium-tempo studio version of the
Yardbirds' classic on their sophomore LP. THEN, as the seeming last note fades,
Joey Kramer starts a drum roll, Joe and Brad do train-whistle bends on their
Strats, and ambient crowd noise lets us know we're now in the front row of a
kick-ass concert. The band enters, double time, and do the Yardbirds, and
themselves, wicked proud. I got to see Aerosmith on this tour (in the gym at
Bowling Green State U. in Ohio, my first real concert) and I'm still out of
breath.
Honorable
mention: Jackson Brown uses the same technique to great effect on Danny
O'Keefe's "The Road" on Running
On Empty: just before hook in the 2nd chorus, there's a pause,
and we transition from the tour bus rehearsal take to that night's show. Kinda
breathtaking, in a quiet Jackson Brown kind of way.
9. In the Pocket of the Gods - Led Zeppelin,
"In My Time of Dyin'" (Physical
Graffiti): There's a point, about 9/10s of the way through Zep's fully
developed, every-permutation-explored arrangement of the ancient blues tune
(which also shows up on Dylan's first album), where the band finally plays the
riff in unison. All out. After ten minutes of serious jamming, they're totally
in each other's pockets. Take notes, us mere mortals.
8. Power POP - The Raspberries, "Go
All the Way." The problem with the Raspberries, as opposed to say
Badfinger or Big Star, the other gods of power pop, is that while the latter
bands have the outlook of (young) men, shading their music with nuance and
subtlety and a certain wariness, the 'berries are clearly emotional teenagers,
with all the dizzying highs and lows and second-to-second volatility their
out-of-control hormones demand. Which is what makes "Go All the Way"
so immediate - the crunchy guitar intro is the perfect balance of clean and
dirty, and the ascending "come on"'s on the bridge are the perfect
distillation of a lifetime of virginity about to be gloriously transcended.
This is what love at 14 feels like. (Or did when I was 14.)
7. Ho-oh! - Bruce Springsteen, "Born
to Run" (Born to Run): Bruce has
described Born to Run as his attempt
to make a record that sounded like it was written by Dylan, produced by Phil
Spector, and sung by Roy Orbison. I actually prefer the casual looseness of his
first two albums, but if his goal here was to make music that sounded mythic,
he certainly succeeded, never more than on the title track. Halfway through
each verse, he adds a two-syllable "oh," his voice almost (but not
quite) breaking, and that hint of vulnerability lifts a self-consciously
melodramatic lyric to the level of high, timeless art.
Honorable
mention: Later in the same song, there are a few measures of catch-your-breath
vamping after the harmonically-all-over-the-place bridge. Then, buried in the
mix, we hear Bruce summon the most exciting lyric in rock'n'roll: "One two
three four!"
6. Spill It All Over the Stage - Joe
Cocker, "With a Little Help from My Friends" (Woodstock): To quote John Belushi, as Cocker (from the National Lampoon show
"Lemmings"):
I was makin' musical history
Now I'm workin' for Muscular Dystrophy
That
Joe Cocker is even still alive must be the 3rd most unlikely event in
the history of popular music (behind Keith Richards, same deal, and the fact
that somebody gave the Bay City Rollers a record contract). But he was
certainly alive in '69 at Woodstock, singing his slowed down, amped up version
of Sgt. Pepper's "With a Little
Help from My Friends." By the time he gets to the second bridge, he
dispenses with the lyric, and just wails "Waaaahhhh!" His voice is so
thick and harmonically complex, he seems to hit every note on the scale
simultaneously.
5. Stop the world we want to get off… -
David Bowie, "Rock'n'roll Suicide," (The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars):
Bowie wrote two great songs about suicide the same year, so he gave one to Mott
the Hoople. The one he kept starts as a relatively simple almost folky ballad,
then gradually saxes and cellos come in, keys start changing, and pretty soon
knives are lacerating our brain, building up to full stop, which David fills
with three words: "You're not alone." Lemme tell you, if you were a
closet glam living in Findlay, Ohio in 1973, those were three pretty fuckin'
important words.
Honorable
mention: On the David Live version,
the song builds as above, then just when everybody's expecting David to go over
the top, he WHISPERS "you're not alone."
4. Life without skin - Janis Joplin, "Piece
of My Heart" (Cheap Thrills) / "Get It While You Can" (Pearl). Janis Joplin, like Judy Garland
before her, sang as if she had none of the innate defense mechanisms that allow
you and I to move through the world without weeping or shouting every second of
every day at the pain and joy all around us. I don't know any more about Janis
than what I've read on the album covers (or maybe imagined from seeing Bette
Midler in The Rose), but it's not a
surprise to me that anyone who burned so brightly burned so briefly. But from
her music, I am left marveling at how exposed a human heart can be. (BTW, I am
a confirmed atheist, from 9th grade or so. When Borders Books &
Music went out of business a few years back, I bought a pile of half-price CDs,
then in the check-out line noticed a copy of Cheap Thrills I'd missed. I was way over my limit, so I left it
behind. Then on the way home I had a clear vision of meeting Janis in heaven,
and her saying, "Six bucks? You wouldn't buy my record for a lousy six bucks?"
I went back and bought it, just in case.)
3. The Scream - The Who, "Won't Get
Fooled Again" (Who's Next). The
Who deserve their own list of most exciting moments: Entwistle's bass fills on
"My Generation," Moon's drum fills on "Bargain," Townsend
kicking the cop who was trying to get them to stop their concert for a security
announcement right in the nuts. But for my money, the greatest scream in all of
rock'n'roll (aside from the cop's) belongs to Roger Daltrey at the climax of
the extended instrumental break of "Won't Get Fooled Again." He's
screaming "YEAH!" at the top of his lungs, at the top of his range,
and trails down at least an octave before he's done. Tension, tension, tension,
RELEASE. I was once hanging out in Keely Sims' dorm room at about 3 AM, and Who's Next was playing softly on the
stereo. At the proper moment I reached over and twisted the volume knob all the
way up. Very satisfying.
2. Ta-da-da Ta-da-da Ta-da-da Ta-da-da Ta! Elvis
Presley, "Hound Dog." John Lennon once said, "Before Elvis there
was nothing." He was wrong of course, but in Liverpool in the mid-'50s Lennon
had no way of hearing all the rhythm'n'blues race records that had come before.
Even in America it took a white boy with greased hair (and greased hips) to get
us to listen to our own indigenous music. "Hound Dog," originally a
hit for Big Mama Thorton, was Presley's break-through, and D.J. Fontana's
triplet snare hits at the end of each verse are what put it over the top. The
rockingest record of its time.
Honorable
mention: For some of those great black R&B sides, check out Night Train to Nashville, which contains
the original "Baby Let's Play House" (covered by Presley) and
"Anna" (covered by the Beatles).
1. One Two Three FOUR - The Beatles,
"I Saw Her Standing There". I was only five when Paul sang "She
was just seventeen" but I knew exactly what he meant. As straight-ahead
rockin' as the Beatles ever got (on an original; those great Larry Williams and
Little Richard covers don't count), and still good, clean, melodic fun. Paul
starts it off with a count-off that promises all the excitement the song
delivers, in a cool Liverpool accent to boot. When I watched the Beatles Anthology TV shows with my
friend Daniele in the '90s, she started screaming at the TV just like it was
1964.
Honorable
mention: Ringo's 5-hit drum fill after the guitar break in "I Feel
Fine." The only moment in music that makes me even happier than Paul's
count off.
Other honorables
I just have to mention:
Derek
& the Dominoes, "Layla"
Cream, Eric Clapton's '60s band, were virtuosos, but I never felt
emotionally drawn in by their music. On "Layla," however (the
original studio version, not his unplugged remake), Clapton sounds completely
fucked up and desperate, resulting in one of the most moving pieces of music,
ever.
Sly & The Family Stone, "Thank You
(Falettinme Be Mice Elf Agin)"
The funkiest song by the funkiest band ever. Check out the rhythm
guitar/horn break after the 2nd verse (and the bass line throughout
the song). Note we are talking about the single, not the slow-motion
heroin-coma trance version on There's a
Riot Goin' On.
Nirvana,
"Smells Like Teen Spirit" I
should explain that after my band Loose Ties broke up in 1987 I stopped
listening to rock'n'roll for a number of years, especially new bands, on the
theory that they had somehow gotten the record contract meant for us. Then I
heard folksinger Jim Infantino sing an acoustic version of "Smells Like
Teen Spirit" around a campfire. Even acoustically, I could tell something
was happening. Nirvana does it pretty good too.
The
Grassroots, "Let's Live for Today" The world's greatest SUNG count-off,
incorporated right into the melody of the song - one, two, three-ee, four-or, lifting a two-chord repetitive melody
to anthemic proportions. Also covered by the Lords of the New Church in the '80s
(but I'm stickin' to the original).
Hall
& Oates, "She's Gone" The
most telegraphed punch in the history of music - 3 consecutive half-step key
changes, leading to Daryl's big "she's gone-on-on-on-on-on oh-oh-oh
why" moment, but he pulls it off.
The Eagles,
"Hotel California" (Hell
Freezes Over) I know, I know. The
Eagles, the most jaded group in the history of LA-bloated music biz-laid
back-excess, anywhere near a list of most exciting anything?? BUT, on this live
"unplugged" version of their mega-hit, when Don Felder and Joe Walsh
finally play the tandem ascending riff s at the end of the solo, on nylon
string acoustic guitars no less, it is, god help me, exciting.
Howard
Huntsberry, "Lonely Teardrops"
Huh? Who? Side two of the La Bamba
soundtrack included some gems not sung by Los Lobos-as-Richie Valens,
including this killer cover of Jackie Wilson's "Lonely Teardrops."
I'd never heard of Howard either, or have ever heard of him again, but as the
band vamps at the end of the tune Howard keeps reaching for, and nailing,
higher and higher notes. A truly amazing performance. [Honorable mention to
honorable mention: Marshall Crenshaw-as-Buddy Holly singing "Crying
Waiting Hoping," on the same record.]
Smith,
"Baby It's You" Though not in Joplin's
league, Gayle McCormick, lead singer of one-hit wonders Smith, has a great
Janis-esque moment on the last chorus of their version of Burt Bacharach's
"Baby It’s You" (which was also covered by the Beatles early on).
Phil
Collins, "In the Air Tonight"
Three-quarters of the way through this atmospheric confessional, Collins
lets loose an extended, processed drum fill that sounds like John Bonham
through a synth-flange-echo chamber. Not only does it make the song suddenly
matter, I'd say sonically speaking it's the
moment when the '70s gave way to the '80s.
Jimi
Hendrix, "All Along the Watchtower"
Jimi's version of Dylan's "Watchtower" is a veritable catalog
of cool guitar tricks, from slide-wah-echoes, to tandem octaves, to rhythmic
hammer-ons. Just before the 3rd verse there's an insane
bent-pentatonic fill I spent a year at guitar school trying to learn.
Rolling
Stones, "Can't You Hear Me Knockin'"
The world's greatest rock'n'roll band, only an honorable mention?? I
should say I am a huge fan, and consider their Jimmy Miller-produced LPs and
singles (Beggars Banquet up through Exile, including "Sympathy for the
Devil," "Gimme Shelter," "Moonlight Mile," etc.) THE gold standard of rock music. But
choosing one single moment that I'd call as exciting as the ones above…a tough
call, maybe because even as kids Jagger & Co. seemed a little too cool to
show all their cards. So let me point out a great Keith moment: at the end of
the first chorus of "Can't You Hear Me Knockin'," the band pauses,
and Keith does a down-and-dirty double-stop fill that would make Chuck Berry
weep with pride. Then stick around because Bobby Keyes and Mick Taylor strut
their stuff in an extended jam. But that's one for the next list…
OK!
Feel free to post your own list, and I will compile a People's Choice version
and post it in a week or two. Til then…one, two, three, FOUR!
