Madonna's stage collapsed, killing one person and seriously injuring another.
She should take a tip from those tired old rockers, Van Halen. Their contract stipulated backstage provision of M&Ms with the brown ones removed - so they wouldn't have a stage collapse.
Que?
Silly as it sounds, it's true. Van Halen were ridiculed as an example of rock'n'roll excess, for that rider above, which they put into every contract with tour promoters. But it was all part of their master plan, as Snopes quotes David Lee Roth.
The contract was massive because their touring equipment was massive. Very weighty. So many things to do and install, so many people to put it together. If the contract wasn't followed properly, disaster could await. So they inserted that rider on the M&Ms to verify that the promoter had followed the whole of the contract detail.
One time, the band did find brown M&Ms, so they trashed the dressing room. The stage was sagging, the M&Ms were proof that the contract detail was lacking, but it was only the trashing that was good old rock'n'roll - not the petulance.
I doubt the band were that clever; like the sporting star who mouths over-intelligent words, the idea must have come from higher up the chain, from managers or industry experts.
Still, Madonna could learn something.
Showing posts with label rock. Show all posts
Showing posts with label rock. Show all posts
Friday, July 17, 2009
Friday, February 13, 2009
My Morning Jacket and the different sound sydrome
I located another track by My Morning Jacket amongst my CDs.
They were the band that rapidly won me over as support for Neil Young in Sydney recently. Wonderful singing and wonderful guitar work - and I'm saying this as one who could easily be jaded by a lifetime of guitar music.
The two tracks are both from the 2005 album Z; Anytime, and Gideon, the latter of which was played at the gig. But the recorded music gives scant clues to the live feel of the music: uplifting and transfixing. Something that can't easily be squeezed out of a CD.
Honestly, a live band presents an altogether different music experience to a recording. Sometimes both work; sometimes only one does. Take Solomon Burke. His concert was a wonderful communal experience of secular gospel; neither the early or recent music of his that I've heard gives a clue to this. Sonic Youth's recordings give some indication of their live sound, but not the holistic experience. The Church have different virtues live and recorded, some of which certainly overlap; but the best of each are rather different experiences from each other.
There's a song by Shayne Carter (from Straightjacket Fits) and Peter Jeffries called Randolph's going home. In some ways it sounds so rough that you wonder how it could have taken drummer Jeffries ten hours to perfect his work. But in other ways it is a sublime work, a yearning, soaring paean to a dead friend of Carter's. It may have been wonderful live - if it had ever been performed - but it could equally have come out somewhat flat. It's so often hard to tell.
Ideally, the purity of good opera is something that can transcend the medium. But rock music is not the same. You have to take it as it comes, and enjoy the transcendent experiences wherever you find them.
They were the band that rapidly won me over as support for Neil Young in Sydney recently. Wonderful singing and wonderful guitar work - and I'm saying this as one who could easily be jaded by a lifetime of guitar music.
The two tracks are both from the 2005 album Z; Anytime, and Gideon, the latter of which was played at the gig. But the recorded music gives scant clues to the live feel of the music: uplifting and transfixing. Something that can't easily be squeezed out of a CD.
Honestly, a live band presents an altogether different music experience to a recording. Sometimes both work; sometimes only one does. Take Solomon Burke. His concert was a wonderful communal experience of secular gospel; neither the early or recent music of his that I've heard gives a clue to this. Sonic Youth's recordings give some indication of their live sound, but not the holistic experience. The Church have different virtues live and recorded, some of which certainly overlap; but the best of each are rather different experiences from each other.
There's a song by Shayne Carter (from Straightjacket Fits) and Peter Jeffries called Randolph's going home. In some ways it sounds so rough that you wonder how it could have taken drummer Jeffries ten hours to perfect his work. But in other ways it is a sublime work, a yearning, soaring paean to a dead friend of Carter's. It may have been wonderful live - if it had ever been performed - but it could equally have come out somewhat flat. It's so often hard to tell.
Ideally, the purity of good opera is something that can transcend the medium. But rock music is not the same. You have to take it as it comes, and enjoy the transcendent experiences wherever you find them.
Thursday, January 01, 2009
NYE: The Shouties/Shout Brothers/Bernie Hayes
Well, my time with the Shout Brothers was 20 years ago, when Roaring Jack was de rigeur at the Sando every Thursday, and it might mean a hangover on Friday. The Shouties also played there on Sunday afternoons, always covers, always raucous and enjoyable.
The Shouties were back for New Year's Eve, and the only thing in common seemed to be me and Bernie Hayes (and brother Justin?). The pub was different (it was the Botny View, down the St Peters end of Newtown), the punters were younger, the covers were different, and of course brother Stevie was no longer there.
Before they played, there was a bloke wandering around with a T Shirt of the Byrds' country album Sweethearts Of The Rodeo. As a tenuous coincidence the Shouties later played a cover of Cowgirl In The Sand, a song the Byrds covered in country style (quite creditably, albeit rather different to Neil Young's original). Anyway, the Shouties' version was lengthy and blistering: Bernie just wasn't doing that sort of lead guitar 20 years ago.
Just before midnight, they played Only For Sheep*. Just after the new year, they played Freda Payne's Band Of Gold, a song about a marriage that failed on the wedding night. One had to wonder if there was a message in either of those choices.
Nice to see them again. Almost like reliving...
*An obscure song by The Bureau, a Dexys Midnight Runners offshoot. I thought I was clever to recognise it, but it had actually been a hit in Australia.
The Shouties were back for New Year's Eve, and the only thing in common seemed to be me and Bernie Hayes (and brother Justin?). The pub was different (it was the Botny View, down the St Peters end of Newtown), the punters were younger, the covers were different, and of course brother Stevie was no longer there.
Before they played, there was a bloke wandering around with a T Shirt of the Byrds' country album Sweethearts Of The Rodeo. As a tenuous coincidence the Shouties later played a cover of Cowgirl In The Sand, a song the Byrds covered in country style (quite creditably, albeit rather different to Neil Young's original). Anyway, the Shouties' version was lengthy and blistering: Bernie just wasn't doing that sort of lead guitar 20 years ago.
Just before midnight, they played Only For Sheep*. Just after the new year, they played Freda Payne's Band Of Gold, a song about a marriage that failed on the wedding night. One had to wonder if there was a message in either of those choices.
Nice to see them again. Almost like reliving...
*An obscure song by The Bureau, a Dexys Midnight Runners offshoot. I thought I was clever to recognise it, but it had actually been a hit in Australia.
Sunday, May 18, 2008
Music: Died Pretty remembered
There's a lot bands (and specific albums) I feel like commenting on from time to time. But this comes with a certain topicality, given Ron Peno's appearance on (a repeated) RockWiz last night.
So I dusted off my Died Pretty best-of for a listen. So criminally ignored is the band that I suspect even I have not listened through the full CD more than a handful of times.
A guitar-oriented rock band with a touch of the psychadelic - not a bad thing in context - Died Pretty's heyday was in the late 80s and early 90s, a time when I was getting my maximum fill of live bands in Sydney.
Although I saw them a number of times, the only memory I can specifically place is a time or two I saw them at the Harold Park Hotel. They had a good reputation (which counted for something), but moreover, they were an exciting rock band: definitely a cut above the normal fare for Sydney bands, but never quite breaking out consistently enough to have unmitigated commercial success or fame.
On stage, Ron Peno always struck me - unfairly, I guess - as wishing he was Jim Morrison. His noticeably short stature was rather un-rock-god-like, however, but his very long black hair added an unexpected oomph to his writhing delivery. Peno and particularly guitarist Brett Myers unquestionably provided the guts of what made Died Pretty great to appreciate and listen to.
A little after this time - mid-90s album Doughboy Hollow - saw the nearest they got to commercial success, but it still wasn't enough, and they faded and broke up. And Peno turned up on RockWiz, singing DC with a decidedly short crop that was inevitably colour-faded and thinning. Still, he came across as a particularly pleasant guest, with a voice that stood out as rather better trained than most rock singers.
Recommended: Blue Sky Day, Everybody Moves, and Sweetheart. Also, a lengthy track called Desparate Hours, which I did not remember from the time, but which opens Out Of The Unknown (The very best of...) with great strength. Still to explore the bonus CD, which includes a cover of Ed Keupper's Eternally Yours.
Great when you're looking for a decent dose of rock that hasn't gone stale.
So I dusted off my Died Pretty best-of for a listen. So criminally ignored is the band that I suspect even I have not listened through the full CD more than a handful of times.
A guitar-oriented rock band with a touch of the psychadelic - not a bad thing in context - Died Pretty's heyday was in the late 80s and early 90s, a time when I was getting my maximum fill of live bands in Sydney.
Although I saw them a number of times, the only memory I can specifically place is a time or two I saw them at the Harold Park Hotel. They had a good reputation (which counted for something), but moreover, they were an exciting rock band: definitely a cut above the normal fare for Sydney bands, but never quite breaking out consistently enough to have unmitigated commercial success or fame.
On stage, Ron Peno always struck me - unfairly, I guess - as wishing he was Jim Morrison. His noticeably short stature was rather un-rock-god-like, however, but his very long black hair added an unexpected oomph to his writhing delivery. Peno and particularly guitarist Brett Myers unquestionably provided the guts of what made Died Pretty great to appreciate and listen to.
A little after this time - mid-90s album Doughboy Hollow - saw the nearest they got to commercial success, but it still wasn't enough, and they faded and broke up. And Peno turned up on RockWiz, singing DC with a decidedly short crop that was inevitably colour-faded and thinning. Still, he came across as a particularly pleasant guest, with a voice that stood out as rather better trained than most rock singers.
Recommended: Blue Sky Day, Everybody Moves, and Sweetheart. Also, a lengthy track called Desparate Hours, which I did not remember from the time, but which opens Out Of The Unknown (The very best of...) with great strength. Still to explore the bonus CD, which includes a cover of Ed Keupper's Eternally Yours.
Great when you're looking for a decent dose of rock that hasn't gone stale.
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