Author: brucehhackett

If there’s a bustle in your hedgerow

Posted on by brucehhackett

images-14Rolling Stone, Buzzfeed and countless other magazines, websites and blogs love to compile “Top 10” or “Top 50” or “Top 100” lists of best this or best that.  Any list of the most monumental songs of the rock era ALWAYS includes Led Zeppelin’s iconic opus, “Stairway to Heaven.”

Why?  Is the song really that good?  What is it about this admittedly unusual 8-minute track that has so captured the imagination of so many people over so many years?

“Ooh, and it makes me wonder…”

The song has a compelling history that warrants retelling here, even if only because everyone under, oh, 70 years old is familiar with it.  It’s been pretty much unavoidable since it first showed up as Track 4, Side 1 of the untitled Zeppelin album (known now as “IV,” or “Zoso,” or “Untitled”) in the late fall of 1971.

According to composer Jimmy Page, the song began as disparate guitar pieces — various tidbits he had come up with here and there and was hoping his band could put together as one long track that went through multiple changes in tempo, instrumentation and volume. Few people would disagree that he achieved what he set out to do.

“Your head is humming and it won’t go, in case you don’t know, the piper’s calling you to join him…”

Page certainly had help — specifically, vocalist/lyricist Robert Plant, bassist/keyboardist John Paul Jones and drummer John Bonham, not to mention producer Andy Johns, and manager Peter Grant.  In the fall of 1970, after concluding its fifth US tour and releasing its acoustic-oriented third LP, “Led Zeppelin III,” the group then chose to remove themselves from the maelstrom of public scrutiny by retreating to a rural cottage in Hampshire called Headley Grange to work on new material without distractions.  They built huge fires in the fireplace, took walks in the pastoral setting outside, and hoped the muse would strike.

It was there that this layered song they were creating took on a life of its own.  Page gives credit to multi-instrumentalist John Paul Jones for suggesting, and playing, the recorders that accompany the acoustic guitar intro.  “I was thinking about electric piano textures, but the recorders worked beautifully, giving it a slightly medieval feel,” Page said.  When he and Jones did a run-through of what they’d built thus far, they urged drummer John Bonham to not come in until nearly halfway through the track, thus helping the song build in intensity as it progressed.  More important still was Plant, who’d been listening intently from a couch off to the side, with pen and paper, writing.  As Page recalls, “Robert suddenly stepped up to a microphone and started adding vocals with words he’d come up with over the past hour or two.  It was extraordinary.”

“With a word, she can get what she came for…”

Page also remembered the song for the way it broke the cardinal rule among session musicians:  “Studio musicians always had to maintain tempo.  Never speed up, or you’d be sacked for sure.  But I was keen on doing something that had an acceleration to it, both the music and the lyric, so the whole thing would gain momentum by subtly speeding up. That was pretty radical.”

Lastly, Page says, “The concept of the solo at the end was supposed to be a sort of fanfare, so it’s a definite transition from the previous part, and then the solo just soars right on through to the end as the pace picks up for the crescendo.”  The frenetic solo is light years away from the delicate acoustic guitar and recorders from the opening section, and to complete the circle, the band drops out and leaves Plant’s solo voice alone for the coda:  “…and she’s buying a stairway to heaven…”

Once the album was released, FM disc jockeys went bonkers over “Stairway to Heaven” and began playing it in heavy rotation.  Atlantic Records pleaded for the release of the song as a truncated single (8:02 being way too long), but Grant and the band steadfastly refused to release any singles in England, urging their fans to buy the albums instead, and that strategy worked, for the most part.  In the US, Atlantic went ahead and released singles anyway (“Whole Lotta Love,” “Immigrant Song,” “Black Dog,” etc.) but not “Stairway.” Why not?  Because the band had won control of its masters and could do what they wished.  They also had reached a mythical status that proclaimed, “We don’t live by your rules.”  Their mantra was, “The songs are meant to be heard in the context of the full album.  If they’re good enough, they’ll be heard.”

Oh boy, was it ever heard.  By 1975, it had become by far the most requested song by FM radio station listeners across the US.  (Lynyrd Skynyrd’s “Freebird” was often a close second, but Zeppelin usually ruled the roost with “Stairway.”)  It became so pervasive that there was the inevitable backlash from listeners who said they were sick to death of hearing it — quite a remarkable feat for a song that was never released as a single.  Indeed, even Plant has been quoted as saying he doesn’t want to sing it or hear it anymore.

Its popularity also spawned other songs in defiant response, most notably heavy metal titans AC/DC, who told interviewers in 1980, “You can have your ‘Stairway to Heaven,’ we’re on a ‘Highway to Hell.'”  Jefferson Starship wrote a song called “Stairway to Cleveland.”  Eventually, there was even a hilarious parody by Little Roger and the Goosebumps on which they substituted the words to the “Gilligan’s Island” theme song for the “Stairway” lyrics, although Led Zep’s lawyers intervened with a “cease and desist” order against them for using the band’s actual musical track.

And now, 44 years later, there’s a new chapter to the story.

“And if you listen very hard, the tune will come to you at last…”

If you’re a serious rock music fan, perhaps you’ve heard of Spirit, an inventive West Coast band led by Jay Ferguson and Randy California that achieved only modest chart success with a few singles (“I Got a Line on You,” “Nature’s Way,” “Mr. Skin,” “Fresh Garbage”) in the 1967-1972 period.  Their albums didn’t do much better, but they enjoyed a fairly decent cult following.  I mention all of this as background, because a little-known track called “Tarkus,” written by California and appearing on the 1968 debut LP, includes a repeating acoustic guitar passage that sounds kind of like…well, frankly, it sounds EXACTLY like the opening acoustic guitar part on “Stairway to Heaven.” Hmmmmm…

Coincidence?  Sure, maybe.  Many songs sound alike — the same chords, similar rhythms, copycat lyrics, familiar melodies.  A previous column explored the court-tested resemblance between George Harrison’s “My Sweet Lord” and The Chiffons’ “He’s So Fine”; and Sam Smith’s “Stay With Me” and Tom Petty’s “I Won’t Back Down”; and most recently, Robin Thicke’s “Blurred Lines” and Marvin Gaye’s “Got to Give It Up.”  Many parties of varying degrees of knowledge and experience in songwriting vociferously agreed or disagreed with the verdicts in these cases.

The same holds true here.  While some observers feel the “Stairway/Tarkus” lawsuit has some merit, others find the whole thing absurd.  One Facebook reader belittled the plaintiff’s claim by commenting,  “Ooh!  You took half of our riff to make half of your riff in the first minute of your otherwise completely different song!  Plagiarism!”  There are certainly far more differences than similarities between the two songs; for example, “Tarkus” is only 2:35 and is an instrumental, while “Stairway” runs 8:02 and has many lyrics and a riveting vocal.  But the passage in question is undeniably identical, at least for a few bars.

A jury in Pennsylvania will consider whether it’s relevant that on Led Zeppelin’s first tour of the US in early 1969, they played as a warm-up act to Spirit on a West Coast swing (when Spirit was playing “Tarkus” almost every night as part of their set list), where it’s entirely possible, even probable, that Page was exposed to the song and its opening riff.

Still, the whole thing seems mighty suspicious, coming so long after the fact.  Another fact: “Stairway to Heaven” has generated more than $550 million in profits, and it appears to be a pure money grab by Randy California’s estate, even though they apparently won’t be eligible for any back pay if they win, only a portion of future revenues, and a songwriting credit.

By the way, this wouldn’t be the first time Page and his friends have been sued (sometimes successfully) for plagiarism.  Indeed, Led Zeppelin has a notorious reputation in the rock community for lifting established riffs or chunks of entire songs, virtually daring artists to challenge them for songwriting credits.  For example, bluesman Willie Dixon is now listed as a co-songwriter of the Zeppelin classic “Whole Lotta Love,” which borrowed liberally from his tune, “You Need Love.”  Folk guitarist/songwriter Jake Holmes wrote a pretty little piece called “Dazed and Confused” in 1967 that Page blatantly lifted and turned into a harrowing blues number called (why hide it?) “Dazed and Confused” on the band’s first album.  Holmes was victorious in gaining a composer’s credit, which shows up on recent pressings of that album.

A quick note about this essay’s title:  “Bustle” means “disturbance” and a “hedgerow” is the row of hedges that serve as property borders in England, so “If there’s a bustle in your hedgerow, don’t be alarmed now” has been interpreted to mean, “If there’s an intruder at the perimeter of your property, you needn’t fear.”  But clearly, Page and the boys are alarmed by this attempt to seize some of the profits from their most famous work, and are eager for their lawyers to prevail.  We shall see…

Hiding in plain sight

Posted on by brucehhackett

548c3c07e4b0f1b25cb1ad46One of the most frustrating things to music lovers like me is when a truly outstanding song is ignored — or, more accurately, it maintains a place well under the radar of the listening public.  It might be by a band that never made the charts — God knows there are hundreds of artists whose work never got the exposure it should have.  Or, just as likely, it might be a “deep album track” by an award-winning artist on a best-selling album.  Either way, it got virtually no attention on the radio and therefore went unnoticed except by the most ardent of fans.

A few months ago in one of my essays here, I featured a dozen “diamonds in the rough” — superlative songs that I felt have been criminally overlooked.  It’s time to offer Round Two of these underappreciated jewels from commercially successful albums by major artists.  I implore you to seek them out and bask in their gloriousness.

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Unknown-13“Golden Lady,” Stevie Wonder, 1973

Beginning with 1972’s phenomenal “Talking Book,” Mr. Wonder pumped out four consecutive albums that were either nominees or winners of Album of the Year Grammy awards.  He had been a boy Wonder with multiple hits as a teenage member of the Motown stable of artists, and now he was a one-man tour de force, writing, playing, singing, arranging and producing an extraordinary repertoire of material that not only dominated the charts (“Superstitition,” “Higher Ground,” “You Haven’t Done Nothin’,” “Sir Duke”) but influenced dozens of R&B and funk artists in the ensuing years.  Buried on his exceptional 1973 LP “Innervisions” is the joyously melodic “Golden Lady,” which, to my ears, is one of the top four or five songs in his entire catalog.

4480“Sweetheart Like You,” Bob Dylan, 1983

Dylan’s 50-year career has been marked by unparalleled highs and embarassing lows.  For every brilliant “Highway 61 Revisited” (1965), there’s a pitiful “Self Portrait” (1970).  He returned with a vengeance in 1975 and 1976 with “Blood on the Tracks” and “Desire,” then fell off the pedestal with “Saved” (1980) and “Shot of Love” (1981).  In 1983, he chose to solicit the help of the wondrous Mark Knopfler from Dire Straits to produce and also play lead guitar on the excellent “Infidels” LP, carried by the leadoff song “Jokerman.”  The album’s second track, though, is the one that gets under my skin: “Sweetheart Like You” has a simple, guitar-driven melody and multiple verses brimming with wonderful wordplay and imagery as only Dylan can write (“In order to deal in this game, got to make the queen disappear, it’s done with a flick of the wrist, what’s a sweetheart like you doing in a dump like this?…”).

CantBuyAThrill-569x560“Kings,” Steely Dan, 1972

If you look back over the debut albums of the major artists of the ’60s and ’70s, most were erratic at best; rare indeed was the group that hit a home run in its first at-bat.  “Can’t Buy a Thrill,” the first LP from the wickedly musical minds of Donald Fagen and Walter Becker and company, is definitely one of them.  It was hard not to notice the hypnotic “Do It Again” (#6) and the solid rocker “Reelin’ in the Years” (#11) in the winter and spring of 1973, but those who bought the album were treated to eight more songs just as good as those two.  My personal favorite is “Kings,” with its vibrant harmonies, frenetic guitar break by visiting virtuoso Elliot Randall and lyrics that may be referring to the imminent departure of Richard Nixon (“We’ve seen the last of good king Richard, raise up your glass, his name lives on and on…”)

1*N-Vc4N5b99cze8y4L4nXJA“Big Man on Mulberry Street,” Billy Joel, 1986

From roughly 1977 to 1987, the tunesmith from Long Island, New York, had two or three songs in the Top 40 every single year, and seven Top Ten albums.  He was prolific with irresistibly catchy songs, from the schmaltz of “Just the Way You Are” to the pop punk of “It’s Still Rock and Roll to Me,” from the Frankie Valli knockoff “Uptown Girl” to the populist drama of “Allentown.”  In 1986, Joel’s #7 album “The Bridge” included three hits:  “Modern Woman,” “A Matter of Trust” and “This is the Time.”  But for me, the LP’s best track was “Big Man on Mulberry Street,” a phenomenal slab of big band/swing with sensational horns dominating the mix.  It proved to be the perfect soundtrack for a memorable dream sequence in an episode of the mid-’80s TV series “Moonlighting,” when Cybill Shepherd’s Maddie Hayes envisioned Bruce Willis’s David Addison meeting up with his ex-wife in an after hours Manhattan dive.  You might want to visit YouTube and hear this song in tandem with that video.

JethroTull-albums-standup“We Used to Know,” Jethro Tull, 1969

A couple of years before “Aqualung” and “Thick as a Brick” made Tull an arena-filling concert draw, the 1969 album “Stand Up” was earning widespread praise for its eclectic mix of blues, English folk and hard rock, led as always by the pied piper of rock, flautist/composer/singer Ian Anderson.  Tracks like “Nothing is Easy” and the flute-driven instrumental cover of Bach’s “Bouree” got most of the attention, but the track you need to check out is “We Used to Know,” a vintage dose of early hard-rocking Tull carried by Martin Barre’s incredible electric guitar work.  I recently discovered that the song’s chord progression is identical to the one from the monumental Eagles anthem “Hotel California,” but Anderson chuckled when asked about it.  “I’ve probably lifted a few songs in my day as well.  There’s room for everyone.”

The-Captain-and-Me“Clear as the Driven Snow,” The Doobie Brothers, 1973

In their early years before Michael McDonald joined and gave them a smoky cocktail lounge sound, The Doobies were a kickass boogie band out of San Jose, with contagious rock riffs on songs like “Rockin’ Down the Highway,” “China Grove” and “Long Train Runnin’.”  Their albums also included some quieter, melodic tunes like “Toulouse Street” and “South City Midnight Lady” that featured Pat Simmons’ sweet voice, but they were known mostly for the mainstream rock tunes with Tom Johnston handling the vocals.  Perhaps because it combines both of these styles into one magnificent track, “Clear as the Driven Snow” (from the 1973 LP “The Captain and Me”) always stands out to me as one of The Doobies’ finest moments.  What a delight that they included it in the set list at their recent concert appearance at the Greek Theater in LA!

9759b7117be44cec9fcedf6f4e1cb322“Bare Trees,” Fleetwood Mac, 1972

Three years before Stevie Nicks and Lindsey Buckingham joined the band, Fleetwood Mac was struggling along, having evolved from a deep British blues group under Peter Green into a solid pop rock band with quality vocals, songs and hooks from Christine McVie, Bob Welch, and a fragile little guy named Danny Kirwan.  His signature vibrato guitar stylings added rich textures to the Mac’s music of this period, although their albums typically failed to crack the Top 40 in the US or the UK.  Their strong 1972 album “Bare Trees” topped out at only #70 but included the Welch gem “Sentimental Lady” (which he took into the top 10 five years later as a solo artist) and McVie’s winsome “Spare Me a Little of Your Love.”  The standout track, though, was Kirwan’s complex yet catchy title track, which featured the amazingly inventive Mick Fleetwood-John McVie rhythm section underneath Kirwan’s succinct guitar work and singing.      

327a588f285f3df6eeb7c3056b64ec46“Monkey Man,” The Rolling Stones, 1969

It was a strange time for the Stones in 1969.  Founder Brian Jones had virtually withdrawn from group activities, barely contributing to recording sessions, and was ultimately replaced by new guitar hotshot Mick Taylor.  The fact that Jones was found dead in early July in his swimming pool weighed on the band emotionally, but it served to inspire the Jagger-Richards songwriting axis to come up with some of their most memorable tracks.  “You Can’t Always Get What You Want,” “Midnight Rambler,” “Let It Bleed,” the single “Honky Tonk Women” and especially the harrowing “Gimme Shelter” all emerged in the summer and fall, and appeared on the year-end “Let It Bleed” album.  Buried on side 2 (remember side 2?) was a haunting piece called “Monkey Man,” featuring the great Nicky Hopkins on piano, some crunching guitar work from Richards, and an astonishing lead vocal by Jagger.

51tGMRJ8HIL“Only a Dream in Rio,” James Taylor, 1985

After an impressive run of nine Top 10 albums and as many memorable hit singles, Taylor seemed to fall out of favor with the buying public in the early ’80s.  The albums he released during this period — 1985’s “That’s Why I’m Here,” 1988’s “Never Die Young” and 1991’s “New Moon Shine” — were packed with excellent, vintage JT tunes, but the chart success didn’t come.  In fact, he hasn’t had a hit single since “Her Town Too” in 1981.  But no matter — Taylor’s loyal fan base is well aware of the exceptional songs found on these three LPs.  Most notable to me (and to Taylor himself) is “Only a Dream in Rio,” which he says “sprang from me fully formed one day after performing to 100,000 people in Brazil.”  It offers one of his most joyous melodies and arrangements, with lyrics (some in Portuguese) that speak humbly of the thrill of performing to grateful audiences.

The_who_face_dances_album“Another Tricky Day,” The Who, 1981

When drummer Keith Moon died in the fall of 1978, only three weeks after the release of “Who Are You,” there was great uncertainty about whether the band would — or should — continue.  They chose to enlist former Faces drummer Kenny Jones and return to the road, but it took nearly three years before they would release another album, the rather erratic “Face Dances,” in April 1981.  Still it reached an impressive #4 on the US charts, with a #18 hit single, the lightweight “You Better You Bet.”  By far the album’s best track was its closer, “Another Tricky Day,” with Roger Daltrey in superb form on vocals, and some perceptively philosophical lyrics from Pete Townshend:  “Just gotta get used to it…we all get it in the end, we go down and we come up again…This is no social crisis, just another tricky day for you…”

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I plan to select 10-12 of these “deep album tracks” every so often to write about in an attempt to increase awareness that there are indeed many many hundreds of songs just waiting to be discovered on successful and not-so-successful albums from the glory years of rock.  Do you have any candidates for me to consider?  By all means, let me know!