Zakk Wylde’s Fallen Heroes Tribute

Of all the great songs Black Label Society frontman Zakk Wylde has written, my favorite is “In This River.” Over time, it’s become a tribute to his close friend, Pantera guitarist Darrell Lance Abbott, more popularly known as Dimebag Darrell.

Dimebag Darrell was gunned down nearly a decade ago while onstage with his post-Pantera band, Damageplan. Wylde was one of his best friends, and I can feel the depth of his loss whenever I listen to the song.

Wylde performed “In This River” as a tribute to the “fallen heroes of the music community” at the Revolver Golden Gods Awards April 23, 2014, at the Nokia Theater in Los Angeles. It’s pretty moving, so I’m sharing it here.

http://youtu.be/J13PNAW4P5I

WyldeWeekend2

RIP, Oderus Urungus

As a troubled kid, I had a special appreciation for Gwar. For the lost soul in need of metallic rock therapy, these guys delivered. What’s more, they were perfect for when heavy-duty escapism and entertainment was required. I’m sad to hear that Dave Brockie — a.k.a Oderus Urungus — has died at age 50.

Mood music:

Brockie had a voice and stage presence that was beyond over the top. I’m fairly sure it wasn’t even part of this world. Anyone who took Gwar seriously was doing it wrong.

And yet the SF/horror-inspired metal act — formed in 1984 — still managed to get nominated for a Grammy. They experienced plenty of line-up changes, but Brockie was there for each incarnation.

Gwar is metal satire at its best. If there’s a taboo to flaunt, they flaunt it. No politician or religion is safe. I buried many a bad mood watching and listening to them over the years.

I don’t know if the band will continue. But if it does, it won’t be the same.

Thanks for the many years of entertainment, Dave. You made some difficult periods bearable.

GWAR_live_in_Toronto,_2008

Rock and Metal Christmas Songs

I dislike most rock ‘n roll Christmas songs. The Kinks asking Father Christmas for money? Not a fan. Billy Squier singing that Christmas is a time to say I love you? Hate it.

I love those artists, just not those songs. Though I’m a heavy metal fan, I have to admit Christmas songs of that genre aren’t much better.

But occasionally, rock and metal musicians manage to pull off something special — songs done so magically that I play them repeatedly this time of year. Allow me to share some favorites.

First, a classic from Ronnie James Dio and Tony Iommi that makes the neck hair rise.

John Sykes, who has been in Whitesnake and Thin Lizzy, among others, does a great instrumental version of the same song.

http://youtu.be/JyjRDUe4-8E

Rob Halford, legendary vocalist for Judas Priest, put out a whole album themed for the season, including this gem.

One of my favorite guitarists, Zakk Wylde (Ozzy Osbourne band, Black Label Society), does a searing acoustic version of “The First Noel.”

http://youtu.be/EtvVP1u9RfE

Finally, here’s a great rendition of “Silent Night” played by Brian May during a 1979 Queen concert.

Merry Christmas!

Eddie

Getting The Band Back Together (Sort Of)

As some of you know, I sang in a band called Skeptic Slang in the early 1990s. I’ve also been playing guitar religiously for the past year. A former bandmate has decided to start playing again as well, which can mean only one thing: The band is back together.

Mood music:

Well, sort of.

We don’t plan to go in a studio and record an album, or line up a bunch of gigs. This will be something more laid back: Jamming in each others’ living rooms, writing songs and recording them on my laptop recording software. We’ll upload MP3s to Soundcloud, where you’ll be able to hear them.

Though I sang with these guys last time, I’ll just be playing guitar now, mostly holding down the rhythm while the other guys — Chris Casey and Elias Andrinopoulos — do the fancier melodies and lead.

Some have suggested we make more ambitious plans. After all, we have plenty of friends with kids and busy careers who still manage to put out CDs and gig on a regular basis. A good example of that: My friends in the band Pop Gun (see my review of their new album “American Soul” here). I don’t want to speak for the other guys, but my schedule is way too crazy for that — at least at this point in time.

My overriding need in doing this is simple. I have music in me and a good friend told me last year that no one should go to the grave with their music still inside them. My playing is still amateur, but I’ve learned several songs — The Kinks’ “You Really Got Me,” AC/DC’s “Hell’s Bell’s, Led Zeppelin’s “Whole Lotta Love” etc. — and I’ve come up with a whole bunch of original riffs. I say original with half a grin, because no riff is truly original. We’re always drawing off our influences.

I regularly use mood music in my blog posts. I figure why not have some of my own music to use as well?

Above all, we want to have fun and burn off steam. I can picture us rotating to each other’s living rooms, playing while our kids roughhouse in the back ground and our wives critique our work. It seems like some good family fun to me.

Stay tuned to hear what happens next.

Below: The younger, thinner and long-haired version of Skeptic Slang

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Songs That Mattered After 9-11-01

Like so many other times in my life, music made the difference between sanity and insanity. I focus a lot on the metal. But in the weeks after 9-11, I turned to a broader group of musicians to help me along. They did their jobs well, helping us all see that it was OK to go on living.

Let’s start with Neal Young, whose version of John Lennon’s “Imagine” was both haunting and inspiring:

Nothing said “fuck you” to terrorists like this P.O.D. song, which begame something of a hit after the attacks:

The Foo Fighters weighed in with this song, which wasn’t necessarily about 9-11 and the aftermath. But the lyrics somehow worked for me:

During that same 9-11 tribute concert where Neal Young played “Imagine,” Bon Jovi did this powerful version of “Living on a Prayer.”

Finally, there’s Bruce Springsteen, who put out an entire album inspired by 9-11. Yesterday’s post included a live performance of “The Rising” but this song also resonated for me:

Peace be with you all this 9th anniversary of the attacks.

Everyone has a memory of that day. I wrote about mine yesterday. Today, on the actual anniversary, I choose to sit back and let the music do the talking, especially that last refrain of “Come on Rise Up” from the Springsteen song above.

Firefighters raise a flag late in the afternoon on Tuesday, Sept. 11, 2001, in the wreckage of the World Trade Center towers in New York. In the most devastating terrorist onslaught ever waged against the United States, knife-wielding hijackers crashed two airliners into the World Trade Center on Tuesday, toppling its twin 110-story towers. (AP Photo/The Record, Thomas E. Franklin) MANDATORY CREDIT
Firefighters raise a flag late in the afternoon on Tuesday, Sept. 11, 2001, in the wreckage of the World Trade Center towers in New York. In the most devastating terrorist onslaught ever waged against the United States, knife-wielding hijackers crashed two airliners into the World Trade Center on Tuesday, toppling its twin 110-story towers. (AP Photo/The Record, Thomas E. Franklin) 

On My Sixth Birthday, the Ramones Changed Everything

I’m tickled to discover that my birthday is a special day to The Ramones, too. Turns out, yesterday was also the 37th anniversary of the band’s debut album. They were always an important band for me, especially after I learned that Joey Ramone was a fellow OCD sufferer.

Mood music:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O7PEzQQYWag

I owned multiple Ramones albums on vinyl, and wore them out from playing them so much. A favorite was Halfway to Sanity. Back then I knew nothing about my own OCD, let alone Joey Ramone’s. I just loved that the songs were loud and simple and that the band members were ugly like me. But looking back, they were the ideal personification of OCD. Their songs revolved around simple chord progressions with a lot of repetition. Repetition fits the OCD mind like a glove.

I skipped my senior prom and attempted to get into a Ramones show at The Channel in Boston. I didn’t have a date anyhow and getting kicked in the stomach by punk rock was more appealing than dancing to Bon Jovi.

Also noteworthy: There was a time before Erin and I started dating that she was driving behind me on the way home from Salem State one day, and I noted she was bopping her head up and down and back and forth. It turns out she was listening to The Ramones. I believe it was “All the Hits and More” she had in the tape deck. The strawberry-blond hair flailing around was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.

When I was researching famous people who shared my mental disorder and I saw Joey on the list, his status as one of my all-time heroes was cemented. That someone with OCD could stand in front of a raging crowd of punk rockers every night floored me. By the time he died in 2001, he had amassed a body of work that will inspire people forever.

When someone thinks they’re doomed to a less-than-wonderful life because they have a mental illness or physical defect, just look at what Joey Ramone did. Then try to tell me you can’t soar above the things that seem like limitations.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go listen to the first Ramones album — repeatedly, obsessively and unapologetically.

The Ramones

Review: Pop Gun’s “American Soul”

Music is one of my main coping tools, and I’ve latched on to a new CD from some old friends that I know will get me through the stresses of a new job and the slow commute that goes with it.

I’ve already determined that Pop Gun’s American Soul is an excellent soundtrack for ensuring the painful wind from the Longfellow Bridge across Storrow Drive and onto I-93. I could swear at the drivers around me and bang my fist on the steering wheel. Instead, I’m listening to Pop Gun.

Mood music:

(Disclosure: I know these guys well. I worked with drummer Greg Walsh at a small weekly newspaper nearly 20 years ago. In more recent years, I’ve gotten to know bassist-vocalist Harry Zarkades and guitarist-fellow Hillie James Melanson.)

I’ve had Pop Gun’s Trigger CD for a long time and have my favorites for sure, but American Soul has a depth and weight that comes with the 20 years of life experiences these guys have had since the songs for that first CD was written.

My favorite track is “Love and Wine,” written and vocalized by former guitarist Bruce Allen, who recently moved to Colorado. (Harry Sabean replaced Allen.) It’s a song full of light and fresh air, especially when Allen sings, “The sun will shine, and love is a vine that we’ll tend together.” When he sings that love is like wine, “sweet when it’s young and it only gets better,” it resonates with me after nearly 15 years of marriage.

“Bitter Heart” is another favorite. Melanson sings this one, and the mix of melody and crunchy riffs remind me of some of Boston’s classic bands, like The Cars and Aerosmith, with a bit of The Neighborhoods mixed in for good measure. His vocals are a smooth contrast to Zarkades’s more serrated tone. That’s one of the things that makes this album work for me: the vocal variety in the songs.

Erin and I attended Pop Gun’s record-release concert last week and the new tunes passed the critical test of scoring direct punches live.

If you’re a fan of Boston rock, this CD carries on the rich tradition that makes me proud to call this place home.

Buy American Soul. You won’t regret it. The best place to order one is the Pop Gun Facebook page. The guys will get back to you in short order.

For locals, you can pick up the disc at The Record Exchange in Salem, MA, and Dyno Records in Newburyport, MA.

Pop Gun
Photo by Melanie Carr

Is It Better That They Died?

A conversation with friends last night about Ray Manzarek’s death led to talk about Jim Morrison and other musicians who died young. The question we asked aloud was what would Morrison, Kurt Cobain and others have done with their music had they been afforded longer lives?

Mood music:

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Would John Bonham still be producing those menacing drum sounds? Would Randy Rhoads be blessing us with rock infused with classical as he had desired at the time of his death?

It’s possible. But it’s also possible they all would have gone on to write and record music their hardcore fans would consider lame.

I picture Morrison, old and balding, jumping up and down in an MTV video and singing “Su-Su-Sussudio!” Or Cobain singing country songs. Or Rhoads doing a bunch of watered-down, keyboard-infused music with horn sections and such.

Maybe that was God’s plan, to pluck these guys from Earth while they were still in their musical prime, before they could make music that would alienate their most dedicated fans.

It’s an interesting thing to ponder, though in all seriousness I wouldn’t have been upset had they all lived and made radical departures from the music that made them famous. Even if you don’t like someone’s newer art as much as their older art, it would still be comforting to see them alive and well, experimenting and trying to to expand their musical horizons.

Not that any of that matters. They died young, and that’s the way it is.

Thank God they got to leave behind some music before they were called home. That music has gotten me through a lot of adversity. It’s gotten a lot of people through the rough patches.

You could say that they didn’t have to stick around because they had already done what they came to do.

Dead rock stars

Thanks And Godspeed, Ray Manzarek

I was shocked yesterday to hear that Ray Manzarek, keyboardist and founding member of The Doors, passed away at 74 following a long bout with cancer. The importance of his music on me can’t be overstated.

Mood music:

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Jim Morrison always gets much of the credit as a member of this band, and he was indeed a powerful influence on me. But he wouldn’t have made it without Manzarek’s influence. He’s the one who encouraged Jim to sing, to put his poetry to music.

As a keyboardist he was a force of shock and awe. His solos were as important as the guitar solos of Robby Krieger. He also played all the bass lines on the keyboard, as The Doors had no bass player. The hypnotic low notes that were a staple of the band’s music came from him.

As a student at North Shore Community College in the early 1990s, I was obsessed with The Doors. My ambition was to be Jim Morrison, though I might have been a better student at the time if I were trying to be more like Manzarek.

Back then, I fancied myself a poet. I joined the Poet’s Society. I grew my hair long and started wearing a pair of leather pants I had borrowed from Sean Marley (back then, I could actually fit into them). I wore a suit jacket and leather boots to complete the look.

I didn’t like who I was, so it made perfect sense to try being someone else. It was a habit I would indulge in many times over.

It was also a side-effect of the fear I used to carry around. The first Gulf War was about to begin and there were a lot of kids worried about getting drafted, including me. So we tried to relive the lives of Baby Boomers from the 1960s as a bizarre comfort ritual.

I started drinking harder alcohol and fasting because that’s what Morrison did. When I would shift from fasting to binge eating I would grow a beard and just carry on like I was the Morrison of later years, when he got bloated from drinking and grew facial hair.

That was the darker side of The Doors’ influence. The more long-term influence — the more positive piece — has been the fuller Doors package. The guitar, keyboards and drums. In more recent years that has calmed my soul and gotten me through many rough patches in life.

It’s not the Heavy Metal most people identify me with, but it’s been hugely important.

For that, I thank you, Ray. May you rest in peace.

ray-manzarek

A New Addiction Takes Hold

During my vacation this week, I’ve been playing a lot of guitar. I picked the instrument back up over the summer after a 20-year break, and I haven’t looked back. My addictive personality has latched onto it like a starving lamprey. But it may be one of the best outlets I’ve ever had for calming the mind.

Mood music:

[spotify:track:56oTnXlr7xFw2lmoi3g0o3]

I now own two electric guitars and an acoustic. I’ve acquired a Marshall amp and a multi-effects pedal. Sean calls me a guitar hoarder.

I’ve been taking guitar lessons, and my instructor has taught me songs like Led Zeppelin’s “Whole Lotta Love,” the Kinks’ “You Really Got Me” and Van Halen’s “Ain’t Talkin ‘Bout Love.” I learned a few on my own, too: “Foolin'” and “Hysteria” from Def Leppard, “Rock You Like a Hurricane” from The Scorpions and several Black Sabbath riffs.

I’ve also been putting together chords that sound good to me, which will lead to some songwriting of my own in short order.

I’ve learned a lot of mindfulness techniques in recent months, and all have helped. But the guitar playing is the tool I don’t have to throw a lot of concentration into. The action itself soothes.

Binge eating used to soothe me, but only for the first few minutes. Then shame followed. Smoking was soothing, but it smelled terrible and was making me a time bomb for cancer. The e-cigs — vaping, as it’s now called — help, but the idea is to eventually stop that habit, too. It’s a temporary crutch.

Read more about what the addictive process is like in “Anatomy of a Binge.”

The guitar sustains me for much longer, without the shameful, smelly byproducts.

It’s an addiction I think I can live with.

Bill's guitars