[Mb-hair] Fw: [Mb-civic] A Rock Critic's Greatest Hits - Steve Morse - Boston Globe Sunday Magazine

[Beverly Bremers]

Great article, Barbara. Thanks!

Beverly




> ----- Original Message -----
> From: "Michael Butler" <michael at michaelbutler.com>
> To: "HAIR List" <mb-hair at islandlists.com>
> Subject: Re: [Mb-hair] Fw: [Mb-civic] A Rock Critic's Greatest Hits -	Steve	Morse - Boston Globe Sunday Magazine
> Date: Sun, 09 Apr 2006 11:57:14 -0700
> 
> 
> Super, Barbara I am certain Bill doesn't mind.
> XO M
> 
> > I am forwarding this from Civic cause I thought HAiR folks would enjoy it as
> > well, Hopefully you do NOT mind Bill..
> >
> > peace,
> > barbara
> >
> >
> > -----Original Message-----
> > From: William Swiggard
> > Sent: Sun, 9 Apr 2006 06:58:12 -0700
> > To: mb-civic
> > Subject: [Mb-civic] A Rock Critic's Greatest Hits - Steve Morse - Boston 
> > Globe
> > Sunday Magazine
> >
> >
> > A Rock Critic's Greatest Hits
> >
> >
> >   I shared bourbon with Keith Richards, followed my nose to track down
> >   Bob Marley, and had Bruce Springsteen practically drip sweat on me.
> >   In 30 years of covering rock for the Globe, I collected enough
> >   stories to last a lifetime. These are a few of my favorites.
> >
> > By Steve Morse  |  April 9, 2006  |  The Boston Globe Sunday Magazine
> >
> > MY LIFELONG OBSESSION with rock music began as a teenager, when I went
> > to see the Rolling Stones at the Manning Bowl in Lynn in 1966. It was a
> > short-lived gig that featured a mini-riot, when fans rushed a small
> > stage and police repelled them with tear gas as Mick Jagger, Keith
> > Richards, and company piled into cars and left. Amid that brief flurry
> > of sound and insanity, my appetite was whetted.
> >
> > Lured deeper, I caught Janis Joplin at Harvard Stadium (her last live
> > performance), Jimi Hendrix at the now-defunct Carousel Theatre in
> > Framingham, the Byrds at the Boston Tea Party in the South End, and
> > Fleetwood Mac, the Grateful Dead, and Jethro Tull at Boston's Ark, where
> > Avalon now stands. I slapped high-fives with crazed rock poet Jim
> > Morrison of The Doors as he zigzagged through a crowd at the Crosstown
> > Bus in Brighton, where hippie girls danced in go-go cages and tinfoil
> > adorned the walls for a psychedelic ambience.
> >
> > During the summer of 1969, I caught the Stones again, this time with
> > 400,000 fans in London's Hyde Park, just days after their guitarist,
> > Brian Jones, was found dead in his swimming pool. Jagger read parts of
> > Adonais by Percy Bysshe Shelley and released thousands of butterflies in
> > Jones's honor. I also saw Led Zeppelin in England twice that summer.
> > First I hitchhiked to the Bath Festival of Blues and pushed through the
> > hordes until I was 20 feet from Zeppelin's onstage mania. Then I took a
> > 4:15 a.m. train back to London to see them again at Royal Albert Hall.
> > They were the best live band I had heard back then, though Hendrix was
> > the best individual talent. His guitar solos were intoxicating, and it
> > was all true about how he rubbed up against his microphone stand and
> > sent women into hysterics.
> >
> > In 30 years of covering rock music for the Boston Globe, I attended
> > about 250 shows annually. I traveled, covering tour openings for Michael
> > Jackson in Kansas City, Pink Floyd in Miami, Prince in Detroit, and U2
> > in Las Vegas. And even if I'd never left town, I still could say that I
> > saw Peter Wolf, Steven Tyler, Brad Delp, Aimee Mann, and Ric Ocasek lift
> > the Boston rock scene to its greatest heights. It was a dream ride
> > through a golden age of rock 'n' roll, from AC/DC to Phish, from James
> > Brown to Eminem, from Live Aid to FarmAid, and the last two Woodstock
> > festivals.
> >
> > I get goose bumps looking back on it all, but the way I see it, I was
> > just in the right place at the right time. And you can't ask for more
> > than that.
> >
> > I GREW UP IN THE BOSTON AREA in the 1950s and '60s, living in Beacon
> > Hill, Brighton, Weymouth, and finally Wellesley, where my self-made
> > businessman father eventually brought us. He was a wool buyer who was
> > gone for long stretches in Montana, Wyoming, and other Western states.
> > After attending Wellesley High School, I went off to Brown University,
> > graduating in 1970, and then landed a job teaching social studies at
> > Barrington High School in Rhode Island. My career as a high school
> > teacher was short-lived (I was far too lax to control the kids), and my
> > love of music was too strong to ignore. So I tried my hand at freelance
> > writing, starting with country music for a long-gone publication called
> > Pop Top.
> >
> > My first Boston Globe review appeared on December 20, 1975. I went to
> > hear country fiddler Vassar Clements at Club Passim in Harvard Square. I
> > was hooked even more when, the day after the show, I accompanied
> > Clements to the Berklee College of Music, where he wowed an audience of
> > students with his unschooled style. "Anything you hear in your head is
> > on this here fiddle," he said. "Any sound at all."
> >
> > When my Globe predecessor, Ernie Santosuosso, decided to focus on jazz,
> > he ceded me the rock beat. The timing was ideal. Arena concerts were
> > booming, and rock was taking off. Predictably, ticket prices took off,
> > too. It used to cost maybe $2.50 to see the average show at the Boston
> > Tea Party (fans were outraged when The Who charged $4), but now the
> > Stones can throw a show with $453 seats - and still sell out in hours.
> >
> > In the '70s and '80s, I covered all the giants at their Boston Garden
> > shows, including Queen, Yes, Pink Floyd, Aerosmith, Jethro Tull,
> > Emerson, Lake & Palmer, Van Halen, and that Texas power trio ZZ Top, who
> > shocked their fans by stationing a live buffalo on one side of the
> > stage, a longhorn steer on the other, a rattlesnake in front, and a
> > black vulture in the rear. ZZ Top even brought a veterinarian on tour to
> > care for this peculiar menagerie.
> >
> > My early years as a rock critic were an education in how music changes
> > through generations. In the New Wave era, I vividly recall seeing the
> > Talking Heads at the Rat in Kenmore Square and interviewing eccentric
> > lead singer David Byrne at a pizza parlor next door. "We've been
> > described as neurotic and cathartic by some people and catatonic by
> > others," Byrne said wryly. It was an era of colorful characters, like
> > the bluesy anti-hero Tom Waits, who snappily described his band after a
> > Sanders Theatre show in Cambridge: "We've got an Italian-American, a
> > Cherokee-Afro-American, and a black, so we can play any damned
> > neighborhood we want."
> >
> > The punk movement reached its zenith with the Clash, a cocky British
> > group that made its American debut at the Harvard Square Theatre in
> > 1979. The Clash opened with the caustic anthem "I'm So Bored With the
> > USA." I had never experienced such musical aggression before, but I
> > became a Clash defender for years and was shattered when
> > self-destructive singer Joe Strummer died of a heart attack at age 50 in
> > 2002.
> >
> > The key to my job was trying to see bands just as their careers were
> > beginning. If you back a group with your reviews early on, it's more
> > likely they'll remember it and continue to grant you interviews as they
> > rise to stardom. Catching Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers at the Jazz
> > Workshop in 1976 (in front of about eight people) solidified my bond
> > with them. A night of revelry with beach-boy minstrel Jimmy Buffett,
> > whom I accidentally met in a Springfield bar after he opened for the
> > Eagles in the late 1970s, was the beginning of a rapport that led to
> > some wonderful, exclusive interviews in recent years. And when I retired
> > from the Globe last year, Bono showed up at my going-away party at J.J.
> > Foley's on Kingston Street downtown, just hours after U2 played the TD
> > Banknorth Garden.
> >
> > I had covered U2 from the time they played the Paradise. Not every
> > review was favorable (the night of my retirement bash, Bono told the
> > crowd that I wasn't afraid to "kick them in the arse" once in a while),
> > but I always called a show like I saw it. The band's Fleet-Center show
> > in 2001 didn't sustain its usual peaks, and Bono wasn't attacking the
> > songs. So I wrote that. Sometimes an artist might not talk to you for a
> > few years after a bad review, but my paycheck didn't come from the
> > record industry. It came from the Boston Globe, and I always cherished
> > that independence.
> >
> > Right up there with U2 was Bruce Springsteen. I first saw him at the
> > Music Hall (now the Wang Theatre), and he was a force of nature. I
> > caught his Boston Garden engagements (once he raced down the center
> > aisle and stood on a seat next to mine, sweat pouring down his face as
> > he shouted out to the rafters), as well as his tour openings in his
> > native New Jersey, a special Amnesty International benefit in Toronto,
> > and - the single best show I saw him do - at the Saratoga Performing
> > Arts Center as part of the "Born in the U.S.A." tour. I also interviewed
> > him a half-dozen times, talking about everything from his idols Chuck
> > Berry and Hank Williams, to his working-class politics, to his fondness
> > for his friend, Lenny Zakim, for whom Boston's iconic new downtown
> > bridge is named. When Springsteen came to sing "Thunder Road" at the
> > bridge's dedication ceremonies, I was hardly surprised. That's who he is.
> >
> > The Grateful Dead were another love of mine. Who can forget their
> > six-night runs at the Garden, when the scents of patchouli and ganja
> > transformed the scene into an interplanetary journey? Jerry Garcia was
> > like an alien spirit. When I interviewed him, it was in his customized
> > private dressing room at the back of the Dead's towering stage set,
> > where he had a sanctuary for reading and meditating. He avoided the
> > crowds in the regular backstage area, which included then-Governor Bill
> > Weld and US Senator John Kerry. Everyone back then, it seemed, was a
> > Deadhead.
> >
> > AS MUCH AS ROCK was in my blood, I had cut my teeth on country music,
> > and I enjoyed other musical genres, too. I was drawn to folk music,
> > including the Chieftains, Tom Rush, Joan Baez, and Boston's bluegrass
> > pioneers the Lilly Brothers, who played the much-missed Hillbilly Ranch
> > in Park Square.
> >
> > I was willing to see any act at least once. I wound up hearing Liberace,
> > Eddy Arnold, and Sergio Franchi at the South Shore Music Circus in
> > Cohasset, Greek star Nana Mouskouri at Mechanics Hall in Worcester,
> > bluegrass avatar Bill Monroe at the Berkshire Mountains Bluegrass
> > Festival, and honky-tonker Merle Haggard in Lowell.
> >
> > I supported the other end of the musical spectrum - heavy metal - as
> > well. I enjoyed covering the fiendish 13-hour Ozzfests led by metal
> > legend Ozzy Osbourne, though I got a flat tire after last summer's
> > Ozzfest and had to write the review on the back of a flatbed truck. I
> > loved the crunch of a good ear-shredding metal/hard-rock show, from the
> > bruising side of AC/DC and Metallica, to the elemental power of Pearl
> > Jam, to the "nu metal" of Korn and Rage Against the Machine, and the
> > punk-metal of Iggy Pop. And I almost never wore earplugs. Call me
> > stupid, but that's the truth.
> >
> > I also fell hard for reggae, going to Jamaica a couple of times and
> > interviewing reggae patriarch Bob Marley at the Essex House hotel in
> > Manhattan. That was a chaotic experience. I arrived at 11 a.m. and
> > couldn't find his room. I asked a cleaning attendant, and she said with
> > a smile, "Just follow your nose." The scent of marijuana led me to a
> > room where several members of Marley's entourage were sharing two
> > king-size joints while kicking a soccer ball and bumping into a picture
> > window overlooking Central Park. Marley sat on a couch, reading aloud
> > from the Bible's Book of Revelation (with its "lion of the tribe of
> > Judah" reference so important to Marley's Rastafarian religion). He
> > ignored me and kept reading for about 10 minutes, until I finally dared
> > to say, "Bob, I appreciate the reading, but the Globe sent me down to
> > talk about your music." Suddenly, the soccer playing stopped. Everyone
> > looked at me as though I had interrupted God himself. But after a
> > moment, Marley said, "You're right, mon. Come over and let's talk." He
> > closed the Bible and gave me his attention as we discussed his theme of
> > world brotherhood. As soon as the interview was finished, the soccer
> > playing resumed, the Bible was reopened, and I was ushered out the door.
> >
> > Marley was a brilliant performer, and I reviewed his memorable Amandla
> > peace concert at Harvard Stadium. It was the only time I saw bongs being
> > sold inside the stadium. You'd see clusters of fans puffing on the bongs
> > in the bleachers as puzzled security guards left them alone.
> >
> > I traveled a lot in those days, trying to catch as many musical pioneers
> > as I could. I remember having breakfast with bluesman Muddy Waters in
> > Montreal, where he described his frustration at how African-Americans
> > were growing away from the blues. "Young black kids," he said, "think my
> > kind of blues is a slavery-time kind of music."
> >
> > A sunnier moment was interviewing soul star Al Green at his compound in
> > Memphis. It included a recording studio, a tour bus in the driveway, and
> > a beauty parlor called Al Green International Hair. The studio had a
> > large bumper sticker on the wall ("Tried everything else? Why not try
> > Jesus?") and an isolation booth where Green cut his vocals. It was
> > covered with wooden shingles, corn husks, deer antlers, and cotton
> > stalks, with a microphone hanging from the ceiling. "I love the rustic
> > quality of it," Green said, laughing. "You wouldn't want it to be nice
> > and crystal clean, would you? You at least need some cotton stalks and
> > bell peppers on the wall."
> >
> > The most bizarre interview had to be in 1979 with a Macon,
> > Georgia-raised singer named Richard Wayne Penniman. He was on one of his
> > periodical sabbaticals from rock 'n' roll (he first left the scene in
> > the middle of a tour in 1957) and was working as a fundamentalist
> > preacher and traveling salesman for Memorial Bibles International in
> > Nashville. I met him there and hopped into a yellow Eldorado that his
> > friend drove at 80 miles an hour to Fort Campbell, Kentucky, where
> > Penniman preached in a field house to 200 people, ranging from Army
> > brass to drug offenders from the base's halfway house. It was a
> > fire-and-brimstone sermon ("Don't you know the world is going to end
> > very soon, and you're drinking and smoking and using everything in your
> > bodies?"). The believers hung on his every word, but some of the drug
> > offenders snoozed in the bleachers. Afterward, Penniman - better known
> > as Little Richard - went back to his hotel to read the Book of Job.
> >
> > THE ROCK BEAT has to be one of the most physical beats a critic can
> > have. I wasn't a movie reviewer sitting in air-conditioned screenings or
> > an art critic contemplating paintings in a quiet museum. I had to fight
> > the same traffic jams as everyone else to get to concerts. And more than
> > a few times, I'd have screaming fans behind me and next to me, or maybe
> > even vomiting in their seats from too much imbibing (thankfully, this
> > isn't as big a problem now as it was back at the old Boston Garden,
> > which could be a true zoo).
> >
> > It's a late-night job, to be sure, but I thrived in those hours. I loved
> > the 2 a.m. interview with Springsteen in person at the Providence Civic
> > Center; the 3:30 a.m. phone call with Stevie Wonder; and talking with
> > Pink Floyd's David Gilmour at 5 a.m. (10 a.m. in London, where he was).
> > We joked that he was having his morning tea while I was about to have my
> > nighttime beer.
> >
> > Nor was I afraid to be a road warrior late at night. I'd think nothing
> > of driving to and from New York the same day. I did it to cover the
> > Grammys there, plus the post-9/11 Concert for New York City, the return
> > of Phish at Madison Square Garden, and to interview Pearl Jam on a hotel
> > roof deck in SoHo, among other trips.
> >
> > My worst night had to be getting mugged at a Parliament-Funkadelic show
> > at the Twin Rinks arena in Danvers, where I was gang-tackled and had my
> > pants torn apart in the melee. Minutes later, I confronted the promoter,
> > Frank Russo, who was talking to a female reporter, and he said, with
> > some embarrassment, "Steve, tidy up." Needless to say, I stayed, I got
> > my story (crowded conditions had caused other incidents and arrests that
> > night), and afterward my editor told me to make sure I put the cost of a
> > new pair of pants on my expense account.
> >
> > "WHO WERE YOUR FAVORITE INTERVIEWS?" That's the question I hear the
> > most. I've already mentioned some of them, but joining the list are Neil
> > Diamond (on his porch in Los Angeles), Celine Dion (at a video studio in
> > LA), Bonnie Raitt (back in her drinking days, she had two Bloody Marys
> > during a noontime chat at a Newton hotel and wound up misty-eyed as I
> > drove her around her old digs in Cambridge), Carly Simon (sitting by her
> > pool on Martha's Vineyard - yes, this can be a rough job), Phish's Trey
> > Anastasio at the band's barn studio in Vermont, the Pretenders' Chrissie
> > Hynde in Philadelphia (where she shooed away a couple of intrusive
> > fans), Sting at his Manhattan town house, David Bowie at a New York
> > hotel (probably the most articulate rock star I have ever met), James
> > Taylor at his home next to conservation land in the Berkshires (he
> > complained that a bear had broken into his garbage can), and Art
> > Garfunkel, who drove me to Staten Island and pointed out imagery from
> > Simon & Garfunkel songs.
> >
> > One of my funniest interviews was with Mick Jagger in 1980 during the
> > release of the Rolling Stones' Emotional Rescue album. I told him I
> > wanted to talk about the band's music and not about his sex life, which
> > was filling gossip magazines at the time. It was my first meeting with
> > him, and I was trying to prove that I was a "serious" critic, but Jagger
> > couldn't resist bringing up the taboo topics. So I asked him if he ever
> > put Stones music on to set the mood. "No, no. I never play music!" he
> > exclaimed. "I coo and sing in the girl's ear. That's the music."
> >
> > If Jagger is the prankster of the Stones, Keith Richards is the soul.
> > One of my most challenging days was when I interviewed Richards at his
> > manager Jane Rose's office in Manhattan, sucked down a hit of his Rebel
> > Yell bourbon, then wobbled onto a plane to Roanoke, Virginia, to
> > interview ZZ Top that night. ZZ Top singer Billy Gibbons had me up late
> > listening to obscure rock and R&B records that he had brought on the
> > road. I finally crashed in a groggy heap, but it was well worth it.
> >
> > The longest days, though, were spent covering the last two Woodstock
> > festivals. (I missed the original Woodstock, because I was in England
> > the summer of '69.) During the rain-soaked Woodstock '94 in Saugerties,
> > New York, I heard 15 hours of music in one day - ending with a
> > blitz-krieg of Nine Inch Nails, Metallica, and Aerosmith, who played
> > until 3 a.m., when fireworks went off. I think it was the best show
> > Aerosmith ever played. They held nothing back.
> >
> > Woodstock '99 was another marathon, this time at a steamy Air Force base
> > in Rome, New York. It was the peak of the nu metal era, with Rage
> > Against the Machine, Limp Bizkit, and Godsmack, but it ended
> > horrendously with fires and vandalism after the final set by the Red Hot
> > Chili Peppers. There hasn't been another Woodstock, and the cost of
> > liability insurance may preclude any more. Goodbye to another cultural icon.
> >
> > If I have one regret, it's not getting to interview John Lennon. I still
> > wonder what rock 'n' roll would be like if he were alive today. I was
> > due to meet him in New York a month after he was murdered. Lennon was my
> > idol, and I admired his music right through his gut-wrenching solo
> > period of "Working Class Hero" and "Instant Karma! (We All Shine On)."
> > The night he died, I went to the Globe to write his obituary with fellow
> > music critic Jim Sullivan. We cried as we wrote, but somehow finished
> > for the paper's late edition.
> >
> > EVEN WITH AS MUCH TIME as I spent on the road, it was the Boston club
> > scene I know the best. It's not as good as it was, but it remains
> > strong, with venues like the Paradise, the Middle East, and T.T. the
> > Bear's Place. As for the music, it has always been potent, dating to the
> > '60s with Barry & the Remains, then the '70s with Aerosmith, the J.
> > Geils Band, the Cars, Boston, and Willie Alexander and the Boom Boom Band.
> >
> > The group I miss the most is J. Geils. It's hard to pinpoint how big
> > Geils became after "Centerfold" and "Freeze-Frame" in the early '80s,
> > followed by three sold-out shows at the Garden before breaking up.
> > High-octane singer Peter Wolf, alias the Woofa Goofa in his stage
> > persona, ignited audiences with his song-and-dance routines.
> >
> > Any city that can produce bands like these is diverse. And even though
> > Boston has been known more for rock than for pop, the variety to come
> > out of this region has been astonishing, from the raging Godsmack to Top
> > 40 stars New Edition and New Kids on the Block, plus folkie Tracy
> > Chapman, funk-jazz players Morphine, and cabaret-rockers the Dresden Dolls.
> >
> > The music scene has changed over the years on a national level as well.
> > There are ridiculous expectations for stardom on a first album. If it
> > flops, or it just doesn't sell as well as hoped, the band is fired.
> > R.E.M. needed four albums before they landed their first hit single,
> > but, sadly, such patience would be unheard of today. Complicating things
> > even more has been the sheer number of bands and niche radio stations,
> > making it harder to score the across-the-dial success that creates
> > superstars. Too many acts only get played on one format (modern rock,
> > classic rock, Top 40, etc.), and they lose out on a larger audience. The
> > Internet and satellite radio are creating fresh ways for new artists to
> > reach listeners and avoid the record business entirely, but the process
> > still often falls short of paying the rent.
> >
> > But hope is never lost; integrity still matters. And nationally, though
> > the record industry is in disarray from file sharing and corporate
> > mergers, every so often a Radiohead, System of a Down, or Beck takes us
> > all to a new place.
> >
> > Living on the run and battling late-night deadlines was my career, but I
> > loved it. As Willie Nelson sang, "The night life ain't no good life, but
> > it's my life." I know what he means. I'll miss the adrenaline rushes,
> > but maybe now I'll finally get some sleep.
> >
> > Steve Morse covered pop music for the Globe from 1975-2005. E-mail him a
> > spmorse at gmail.com <mailto:spmorse at gmail.com>. Go to boston.com/magazine
> > <http://boston.com/magazine> to hear Morse talk about his favorite
> > concerts in a slideshow with music.
> >
> >
> > http://www.boston.com/news/globe/magazine/articles/2006/04/09/a_rock_critics_g
> > reatest_hits/
> >
> >
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