This one slides into my subconscious about oh, probably three or four times a month.
Maybe one of the best rock waltzes ever written.
And its sequel is just as wonderful… wait, is that German? Some impossible harmonies, and all sung, not synthesized (because they didn’t have the tech back then).
…not our band, of course — the lead guitarist Is No More, Keyboards still lives in Seffrica, Drummer Knob in his Monaco palace, vocalist Gilly in Britishland and Mr. Average Bassist here in north Texas. Logistically, practically and (in my case) medically… fergeddabahdit.
Then Reader Sean F. sent me this epistle:
I have a story from my days in Miami, that while is not a suggestion in any way, is more a tale of “where there’s a will, there’s a way”.
For many years I was a member of the Miami Yacht Club, i.e. not blue blood, but blue collar. Although we were of an ordinary sort of fellow boaters and drinkers, there was always a bit of the “monied” crowd around, because it is expensive to own any kind of boat. Of course we all got along together, which was the whole point. It led to many amusing anecdotes, like this one.
Seven or eight guys and their spouses/girlfriends (groupies) decided that they were going to form a band. Some of them had some musical experience, but it was decided that they would all learn a different instrument. They all bought instruments, amps, etc. that they would need to perform with in the new band and commenced practice.
It took them over a year, but at last they decided to “debut” at a club function. Aside from the usual technical problems – they had no roadies, they really were not bad, and put on a good show of rock classics. They called themselves The Hoovers, of course, because “we suck”.
After another 6 months, they were getting local gigs, even though it was just a hobby for them. For the final gig at the club, they played that Pink Floyd song where there’s a helicopter hovering in the background, and just as that sound effect was about to happen in the song, a real small helicopter (rented by one of the members) appeared over the beach and provided the sound effect in a spectacular fashion. The band played around the sound in a very professional manner, and the crowd went wild! They didn’t suck at all.
I followed them, and encouraged/critiqued them from the very beginning, and got a lot of satisfaction from the whole endeavor. Anything can happen if we wish it.
I love that story, and it got me thinking. I wouldn’t / couldn’t do this myself for all sorts of reasons, but here’s the thing: as long as you don’t set your goals too high, pretty much anyone with any kind of musical talent can put together a band, and have fun. (You must have some musical talent or else you’re just wasting time and money. This is especially true if you want to play keyboards — without at least some formal background, it’s not by any means a “starter” instrument.)
Firstly, you need to find a few people who are about your age who share your musical tastes. (Trust me: attempting to get a jazz pianist to work with a rock guitarist, for example, is difficult beyond words. Ask me how I know this.) If you all want to play country, or 60s Britpop, so much the better. I would even suggest recruiting people using musical preferences as the primary filter. It will help if at least one of you is quite skillful on their instrument, especially piano or guitar, because a good one of those can “carry” the band through that awkward beginning phase. And if you can find a lady singer with anything like a voice, that will help.
Secondly, you need to practice on your instrument, probably for a few months by yourself, and then with the other people you want to play with. (It’s surprising how easy it is to learn as you go along with other people of about your skill level, or maybe a little more.)
Thirdly, your new band will need to build a repertoire of about fifty songs (12 songs per set, four 45-minute sets per gig). Deciding which songs will be surprisingly easy if you’ve decided on your preferred genre. Most country songs are fairly simple to play, as are 50s rock ‘n roll and 60s-era Britpop ditties. (Just not Beatles or Beach Boys — think of that as a Phase 2 project. Once again, ask me how I know this.) Old dance favorites from the 30s, 40s and 50s sound like they’d be easy to play, but are surprisingly difficult. If you have a good pianist, however, your task will be a lot easier. To put this together inside a time frame that won’t see you lose interest, you’ll need to practice (as a band) at least twice a week, and three times would be better. Also, whatever songs you learn, write down the lyrics and a simple chord chart (see below for an example), which will make memorization easier. (Don’t be ashamed to have a music stand with the lyric sheets in front of you; the big rock bands don’t but classical orchestras do, and our second guitarist Farty Marty played off his “cheat list” for over twenty years.)
Just for the hell of it, I’ve put together a list of 50-odd “beginner” songs from memory, encompassing ballads, pop songs and easy-to-sing ditties, as an example.
50s: Rock Around The Clock, Peggy Sue, That’ll Be The Day, Tutti Frutti, Blueberry Hill, Let’s Twist Again, Roll Over Beethoven, Ain’t That A Shame, Blue Suede Shoes, Johnny B. Goode (as long as the guitarist can play the signature lead solo, otherwise forget it), Jailhouse Rock, Be Bop A Lula, Rock And Roll Music, Summertime Blues, You’re 16 and Sweet Little Sixteen (if you dare LOL), All I Have To Do Is Dream, Good Night Sweetheart (always a great gig ender, btw). That’s eighteen, and there are probably even more goodies I’ve forgotten about.
60s: House Of The Rising Sun, To Love Somebody, Wild Thing, Crimson & Clover, Love Is All Around Me, Bad Moon Rising, Pretty Woman, Honky Tonk Woman, Louie Louie, Proud Mary, Stand By Me, Don’t Let Me Be Misunderstood, You Really Got Me, Happy Together Ferry Cross The Mersey, Then He Kissed Me — okay, that’s sixteen and I’m not even trying.
Things get a little more difficult after this era, as pop music became more complicated. Still:
70s: Brass In Pocket, Because The Night, The Boys Are Back In Town, Smoke On The Water, My Sharona, I’ve Got The Music In Me and that’s the easiest half-dozen I can think of, offhand.
Country: Angel Of The Morning, Eighteen Wheels And A Dozen Roses, From A Jack To A King, Rambling Rose, I Take A Lot Of Pride In What I Am, Tulsa Time, Sunday Morning Coming Down, Let Your Love Grow, Help Me Make It Through The Night, Act Naturally, Blue Eyes Crying In The Rain, Mr. Bojangles and oh good grief that’s a dozen and I haven’t even got to Dolly yet.
Evergreens: What A Wonderful World, Fascination, Honey, Everybody’s Talkin’, (It’s Only) Words, Love Letters In The Sand… and don’t get me started on the old standards.
See? That was easy. Now all you have to do is learn how to play them.
Sample lyrics/chord sheet:
———C ——————————————- F ————————————– C
Well I woke up Sunday morning / With no way to hold my head that it didn’t hurt;
———- C ———————————— Am ————— Dm7 ————- G7
And the beer I had for breakfast tasted good / So I had one more for dessert.
…etc. (I think those are the lyrics and simple chords, but my memory may have failed me. It’s a representation, not a frigging official lyric sheet.)
…relieved, after Judas Priest unexpectedly canceled their Houston gig a couple days back.
I saw Priest in 1986(?) in Austin, and that concert got me to wear earplugs to concerts ever thereafter.
Let me tell you: I played in a loud rock band for ten years before that, and Judas Priest were LOUD. My ears rang for about four days after the show.
I am frankly amazed that these old farts can still play the shows they do, ditto the Rolling Stones etc. (but not the Eagles, who are pretty much just a mime gig nowadays, apparently).
More power to them, say I, although perhaps the last thing the Priest need is more power.
All that said, I myself have often said that I would (still) love to play in a band — just not a rock band; been there, done that, got the tinnitus. But put me in a quiet little dinner-dance restaurant, playing old 1940s and -50s standards and ballads, preferably in a trio (piano, bass, and Drummer Knob on drums) with a torch singer like Julie London or Diana Krall… I’d be the happiest septuagenarian in history.
I still miss playing in a band.
Super Strut, baby.
Live for today, baby.
When I talked about which song you’d like to hear on your deathbed, I was of course referring to the spirit of the initial poll, which asked Brits which popular song they’d like to hear as they shuffled off this mortal coil.
No mention of classical music, of course, which didn’t stop several of you from listing your classical choice.
But in the spirit of that, here are my Top 5 Choices for Classical Deathbed Music — the music I’d want to hear in my last conscious awareness — and there are five only because I don’t want to list fifty (which I could), and in any event, I find it absolutely impossible to pick only one. Any one of the following would be just fine by me, and all I can say is that I’d sorely miss hearing the other four.
Faure’s Requiem (appropriately enough)
Beethoven’s 7th Symphony, 2nd Movement
Rachmaninov’s Rhapsody On A Theme Of Paganini
Strauss’s Die Fledermaus Overture (just a short piece, in case it’s all I’d be able to have, and Zubin Mehta conducting the Vienna Phil? Worth every moment.)