Classic Song 45 - The Tornados "Telstar"

Alright -  time to talk about classic music.

Back in the years before The Beatles changed

everything, I was a little Kootenay kid that loved

pretty well all types of music that I heard, as I was

becoming more and more obsessed with the sounds

emanating from our radio and/or console stereo, and 

was constantly on the lookout for something new.

My brother Gord was my music hero, having

allowed me exclusive access to his band's

rehearsals (as detailed in Classic Song 

34). By eavesdropping on his daily 

guitar practice, whether played

on his '59 Jazzmaster or his

mid-50s Kaye, I heard many

exciting, reverb-laden tunes that

still resonate with me, over a half

century later, including guitar-centric

songs by Duane Eddy, The Ventures,

England's The Shadows or today's Classic

Song, featuring none other than The Tornados.

The story behind "Telstar" has been recounted 

often, so I'll give you only a snapshot summary of 

the salient points. The song was written and produced

by Robert George "Joe" Meek, who was not only into

music, but dabbled also in the occult, believing that he

could communicate with the dead, including the spirit

of Buddy Holly, himself. When not communicating

with ghosts, Meek was active in the British music

scene, having already had a couple of number

one UK records to his production credit. 

He was truly obsessed with futuristic sounds,

having already written and produced a concept

album, entitled I Hear A New World (which he

described as an 'Outer Space Music Fantasy),

for Brit act, Rod Freeman & The Blue Men.

But that was in 1960, and two years later, he was

determined to paint his audio masterpiece, with

the capable help of The Tornados. The title,

Telstar, refers to the US satellite that orbited 

the globe, in competition with Sputnik,

the Soviet Union's pioneering satellite.

The song itself features a very catchy melody,

played on a unique little instrument, called

the Clavioline, a forerunner to the analog

synthesizer, that was also used on The

Beatles' "Baby You're A Rich Man"

and many other pop tunes by acts as 

varied as Esquivel, Del Shannon,

The White Stripes and a young

David Jones aka Bowie.

After Telstar's massive success, Joe Meek 

was sued for plagiarizing the melody from an 

obscure soundtrack to a French film, and though

ultimately (and posthumously) found not guilty,

he was denied all royalties to Telstar, during

his short lifetime, and ended up deeply in 

debt and massively depressed by his

sad and lonely circumstance.

Though he ended it all in 1967 by murdering 

his landlady and subsequently committing

suicide, Joe Meek's legacy has grown in 

stature, with each new generation that 

has searched for greatness, and

found this classic song.

Now, the incredible "Telstar", 

following a totally unrelated 

photo, taken from my vast, 

personal collection of

unrelated photos.

Mozz the Elder

www.vapormusic.com

BONUS!! Joe Meek's demo of Telstar!!

Classic Song 44 - Steely Dan "Kid Charlamagne"

Let's talk about classic music.

Synonymous with the term 'classic music',

the name Steely Dan conjures up memories

of my touring days in the 70s, especially with

Rhinegold, since our master soundman, Bob

Shindle, used to 'tune' our PA to each club

environment by playing various great 

sounding records through the board, 

including The Royal Scam.

I remember being in Halifax, setting up at

the infamous Zapata's (where our dressing

room was, in fact, the men's restroom), and 

hearing the jazzy opening strains of Steely's 

"Kid Charlamagne" signal that our PA was

ready for action. But before the band began

our full soundcheck, Bob and I listened to

KC a bit closer, noticing just how rich and

unadorned every instrument and vocal 

sounded. In particular, the drums had

that dry, in-your-face clarity that

Bob was able to effectively cop

for our drummer, Danny

Bourne's massive kit.

Though Steely Dan and Rhinegold

shared little, stylistically, we did both

aim for greatness: of song; of performance

AND of sound, and even though Larry and

I parted ways about a year after we played

our hearts out in Halifax, I will always

remember his huge musical influence

on me, not to mention the huge

musical influence Steely Dan

had on me and Bobby and

pretty well the rest of

the world, methinks.

Here's "Kid Charlamagne",

following a recently acquired

picture of yours truly, dressed

from head to toe in Malabar-

made stage clothes - circa

late '78 or early '79.

Mozz the Elder

www.vapormusic.com

Classic Song 43 - Paganini "Caprice No. 24"

Let's talk about classic music from 

a turn-of-the-century composer.

And by 'turn of the century', my little pretties, 

I mean the turn of the nineteenth century. 

The composer? Why, none other than Niccolo 

Paganini, who was certainly a proto-prog 

musician, if there ever was one. 

His astonishing violin virtuosity notwithstanding, 

he lived a life that we would today describe 

as that of a rock star, overindulging in sex, 

alcohol, drugs and serious, classical 

composition and concerts.

Before he descended into personal chaos and 

financial ruin, he graced the world with original 

music that was so far ahead of its time, many 

thought his more challenging works 

to be near-musical heresy.

Caprice No. 24 is the final caprice of his 

24 Caprices, and is one of the most famously 

difficult pieces ever written for violin soloists,

featuring a main theme, eleven astounding 

theme variations and a brief finale.

Performed by the great Jascha Heifetz 

(whose grandson is Danny Heifetz, 

drummer for Dieselhed and most 

notably, Mr. Bungle), here's a 

live performance, filmed in 

beautiful black and white,

following a picture, taken while 

I recorded with members of the 

Toronto Symphony Orchestra 

and other elite TO musicians.

I'm just a lucky guy.

Mozz the Elder

www.vapormusic.com

Classic Song 42 - Blonde Redhead "A Cure"

Let's talk about classic music from the turn of the century.

And by that, brave warriors, I mean the year 2000.

We'd all survived the runup to, and letdown from, 

the Y2K silliness, and were back to consuming 

way too much, way too often, with way too 

few concerns for way too many.

In other words, life was GREAT.

The fave album at the Fen-by household 

was Red Hot Chili Peppers' Californication.

I was constantly scouring music periodicals to find out 

more about their resurgence, and during one particular 

interview with their guitar great, John Frusciante, he 

mentioned he was a big fan of a band which was 

opening for the Chilis, called Blonde Redhead.

So I followed Frusciante's lead and picked 

up Blonde Redhead's fifth album: 

'Melody Of Certain Damaged Lemons'. 

I popped the CD in the house system and... 

wow... I liked... no... LOVED what I heard. 

The band's three-person lineup (minimally augmented 

with tasty studio overdubs) yielded an inventive, musically 

challenging sound that appealed directly to both me AND 

my lovely lady, Pamela. Which was quite a big feat, 

considering that our musical tastes differed mightily,

with respect to anything that sounded 

remotely like progressive rawk.

I think the main difference between 'normal' prog rawk 

and the permutation performed by Blonde Redhead was 

that their lead singer was - and still is - a quirky Japanese 

woman named Kazu Makino, whose accented vocal 

prowess cast a spell on both Pam and me.

Her musical partners, twins Amedeo and Simone Pace 

also added high quality vocals to the mix, not to mention 

their Boston-trained percussive and stringed prowess.

The songs themselves run the gamut from the 6/8 

intensity of Melody Of Certain Three, to the almost 

Parisien pop of In Particular, to the stark, emotive 

balladry of Hated Because of Great Qualities 

to... 

my favourite track on the album: "A Cure".

With great shared lead vocals, "A Cure" feels at once 

like a Yes song, albeit with PFM-like male vocals, 

accented by Kazu's breathy rejoindres. 

The combination still feels fresh and invigorating, 

a full decade or more down the road of life.

Here's "A Cure", following a brief backyard 

visual from my trusty camera eye.

Moss the Elder

www.vapormusic.com

Classic Song 41 - The Doors "When The Music's Over"

When I was 13 years old, 

my brother Gord took me to my 

first ever rock concert, headlined

by none other than The Doors.

Mom, Dad and I were in Vancouver,

visiting relatives, and while spending an 

afternoon with big brother Gord, he

asked if I'd be interested in seeing

The Doors that very evening,

July 13th, 1968 at the

Pacific Coliseum.

Needless to say, I voiced an unqualified 'yes',

which was followed by Gord, wanting to 

make absolutely sure I was into seeing 

the band, since the 2 tickets'd 

cost him about 8 bucks.

I guess my job of convincing him was... 

convincing, for the next thing I knew,

I'd gone and bought a Nehru shirt at

Woolworth's, and Gord and I made

our way to the Coliseum - first,

to see the 3 opening acts, The 

Crome Syrcus, The Hydro-

Electric Streetcar and solo

singer, Tom Northcott.

Remember: this was my first rock concert,

so I was overwhelmed by a few things,

such as the pre-show crowd revelry 

(which got me all worked up), not

to mention (to the parents) my

first, ever contact high....

which really got me worked up.

So when the hockey PA speakers echoed the 

following announcement: "Ladies and gentlemen,

from Los Angeles, California, THE DOORS", I 

nearly leaped straight out of my skin and onto

the stage, except that it was about 20 rows 

away, and I was too young to be allowed 

to disappear from within Gord's sight. 

I stayed in my seat, straining to take in every, 

single moment of Morrison's and his band

mates' performance, albeit from row 20.

The concert changed my life, without a doubt.

Who knows? If I'd not seen this show at the

impressionable age of thirteen, would I have

been galvanized enough (without its impetus)

to want to be in the music business, when I was 

old enough to try my luck and my folks' patience?

Most likely, the true answer would still be 'yes',

even without my experiences, during that singular

and influential evening with the Lower Mainland 

hippies, the multi-named, long maned opening 

bands, followed by Northcott and The Doors.

I'm just so glad it happened, and forever 

grateful to Gord for making it happen.

The embedded video was taken during 

The Doors' '68 European tour, which

followed hot on the heels of their

tour of the US and Canada.

The poster and ticket stub 

were screen-grabbed from 

www.MildEquator.com

Mozz the Elder

www.vapormusic.com

Mozz the Elder - Random Rune 6

No man is truly great who is 

great only in his lifetime. 

The test of greatness is 

the page of history.

William Hazlitt

(whose work, ironically, is little-read)

Classic Album 2 - Simon and Garfunkel "Bookends"

Let's talk about Simon and Garfunkel,
their epic concept album, Bookends, 
and the times in which it was 
released to the world - 
including Castlegar.

During the mid to late 60s, the family home on 
the hill was constantly thrumming with music. 


At any given time, the console stereo would be 
pumping out the latest sounds from a wide 
variety of artists, while Rod's Seabreeze 
record player was in use in his or my 
bedroom. Doug might be outside,
washing his 4-wheeled pride and 
joy, as its radio blared the 
hit parade, courtesy of 
Castlegar's own 
CKQR.


Meanwhile, Gord, 
Ken and I might be in the 
rumpus room, trading licks: 
Gord on his '65 Yamaha Spanish 
guitar (with the original 'motorcycle 
spokes' logo on the headstock), Ken
playing his Ludwig Jazz kit, and me 
on my used, $25, candy apple red 
Teisco bass (with the 4 pickups).

Music was anywhere and everywhere, 
on the hill and in the valley below.


That was how cool Castlegar 
was, way back in the 60s.

When Rod unwrapped and first played Bookends, 
top to bottom, we brothers all stopped what we 
were doing and congregated in the living room, 
amazed by the LP's lush production and 2-sided 
concept: side one exploring the ups and downs of 
ageing and side two containing hit song after hit song, 
mostly written for (and rejected from) the soundtrack to 
the movie The Graduate. My ears quickly became hooked 
on the album, requiring daily doses of its timeless strains, 
as I subconciously memorized every melody and lyric, 
not to mention its perfectly planned - perfectly 
sequenced running order...


Side One: 


Bookends Theme; Save The Life of My Child, 
featuring Bob Moog's synthesiser; the magnificent, 
sprawling America; Overs; the haunting Voices of 
Old People (who were not much older then than I 
am now); one of my lifelong faves, 
Old Friends and the title song, 
Bookends.


Side Two: 


Fakin' It, with its incredibly deep and wide production,
 courtesy of the great Roy Halee (whom I met in early '80); 
the humorous Punky's Dilemma; the number one smash, 
Mrs. Robinson; A Hazy Shade of Winter and... finally... 
the mesmerising At The Zoo, with its tongue-twisting 
couplets of rich, wry rhyme. What an album!! 


I searched far and wide for clean copies of each song,
then embedded each Tube video in its correct sequence,
below. I couldn't find Voices Of Old People, and could
only locate a 'live', mono version of Punky's Dilemma.


Now, it's up to you, ladies and fine fellows, 
to follow the mellow yellow brick road...
back... back... no... further... yeah... 
THAT far back... 


...to the distant spring of '68.


Here's Classic Album 2,
almost in its entirety: 
"Bookends".




Bookends Theme

Save The Life Of My Child

America

Overs

Old Friends

Bookends

Fakin' It (Mono)

Punky's Dilemma

(live version from 1968)

Mrs Robinson

A Hazy Shade of Winter

At The Zoo

Mozz the Elder

www.vapormusic.com