The Classic Rock Blues

I attended a student activities “Last Bash” on campus a little over a year ago, and although I didn’t notice it at first, at some point I remember making a note that the music playing over the crowd was classic rock… music from some 40 years ago! Of course, forty years ago that music wasn’t called “classic rock,” it was simply called rock and roll.

Later, when I was home, I started thinking about this more. I considered the same scenario when I was in college during the early 1980s, and considered how forty-year-old music (from the 1940s in case you don’t want to do the math) would have gone over at a  “Last Bash” gathering at my alma mater—Arizona State. Surely, if such a thing actually did happen back then, it would only have been in the context of a specific theme—where everyone in attendance would have been in costume from that era. Yet, at this social outing I attended, no one was in a 1980s costume.

Later that summer during the Park County Fair, I noticed that classic rock music was also being played in the background by the carnival ride operators throughout the evening. I suspect no one gave it any thought or bothered to yell at the carnies, “Hey, why don’t you play some current music?”

With these recent observations in mind I thought, “How has “classic rock” maintained such staying power after all of these years? How has it become so ubiquitous and so accepted by today’s younger crowd when music of the same age never would have been tolerated in my youth?”

In answering the question of “Why is classic rock so widely accepted and therefore so ubiquitous,” I suspect there is no one answer that clearly explains it—at least no one can agree on it. So, it’s probably safe to assume that there are several factors that have resulted in the continued acceptance of “classic rock.”

No matter which classic rock radio station you listen to, you’re guaranteed to hear AC/DC’s biggest hits and likely multiple times on any given day.

When I queried a few students about this, one simply answered, “I guess it just aged better.”

Perhaps, but I believe it goes a little deeper than that. My theory has to do with the fact that classic rock was the last genre played on the radio when radio was widely listened to. I think country-western could be included in that too. Further, the name “classic rock” has basically been hijacked and condensed. A more accurate name for it should be “classic rock hits.”

Today however, there are many more sources for one to discover music, and most of those sources are beyond and have probably surpassed the influence of radio. As a result, radio’s popularity has really diminished—in the home, in their car, in the workplace, etc.

I’ve heard many of my generation swear that rock and roll music—specifically from the 60s, 70s and 80s—was the best music ever made. I don’t find that to be necessarily true. It was truly revolutionary, but in my mind that doesn’t translate to trumping other genres of music. My argument is this: for every good song you can name in any music category, someone can surely counter with a really bad song from the same genre.

For example, take this 1979 classic rock hit by Bad Company, Rock and Roll Fantasy. I was never a Bad Company fan and this song probably justifies it.

Here comes the jesters, one, two three,
It’s all part of my fantasy
I love the music and I love to see the crowd
dancin’ in the aisles and singin’ out loud
Here comes the dancers one bye one
Your mama’s callin’ but you’re havin’ fun
You find you’re dancin’ on a number nine cloud
Put your hands together now and sing it out loud

Its all part of my rock ‘n roll fantasy
Its all part of my rock ‘n roll dream
Its all part of my rock ‘n roll fantasy
Its all part of my rock ‘n roll dream

Put up the spotlights one and all
and let the feelin’ get down to your soul.
The music’s so loud you can hear the sound
reachin’ for the sky and churning up the ground

Its all part of my rock ‘n roll fantasy
Its all part of my rock ‘n roll dream
Its all part of my rock ‘n roll fantasy
Its all part of my rock ‘n roll dream

And, for the record, that song peaked at #13 on the Billboard Hot 100 hits back then.

Here’s another individual who has basically made the same observations of other song lyrics from the classic rock genre.

And then there are the plethora of robotic “classic rock” radio stations that just play the same hits over and over indefinitely—the same hits that mainstream radio stations played over and over for only weeks on end when they first came out.

You’ll never hear a classic band like The Tubes on any of today’s automated and sterile classic rock stations.

Earlier today, I sat down for one hour to listen and take note of the classic rock songs played on the local classic rock station—KCGL, The Eagle 104.1 here in Powell, Wyoming. KCGL is a member of the Big Horn Radio Network based in nearby Cody that includes eight other radio stations in the area. In their defense, they do claim that their format is “classic hits,” so it’s probably safe to assume we’ll never hear them play The Tubes’ classic rock song White Punks on Dope or Alex Harvey’s Midnight Moses.

For the record, this is what was played during my one-hour listening session:

You’re Still The One / by Orleans
All She Wants To Do Is Dance / by Don Henley
Night Moves / by Bob Seger
Games People Play / by The Alan Parsons Project
Goodbye Stranger / by Supertramp
Mony, Mony / by Billy Idol
Swingtown /  by The Steve Miller Band
You’re In My Heart / by Rod Stewart
Here She Comes / by The Cars
Your Love / by The Outfield
The Best Of Times / by Styx
Margaritaville / by Jimmy Buffett
Baby Hold On / by Eddie Money
Heart And Soul / by Huey Lewis and the News

After hearing these 14 hit singles, I did a little math. In averaging out the release years for each song, I came up with 1979.5—I would have just completed my freshman year at Arizona State. In averaging out where the songs peaked on the Billboard Hot 100 hits, this grouping came in at 20.2. All where easily in the top 20 with the exception of Here She Comes which only peaked at #35 on the chart, so that really brought the average down.

Although KCGL is one of many radio stations employing this format, in the end, it is simply lazy, unimaginative, and easy radio programming. When will a radio station emerge that plays the non-hits of classic rock as well? Everyone knows Dire Straits Walk of Life or Money for Nothing, but who (beyond their fans) has ever heard their song Heavy Fuel? What if they were to play Springsteen’s album Nebraska in its entirety, or all of the music from the thousands of other bands that were just as good, but never had the right backing to push them out to the radio stations back then? That’s the classic rock radio station I want to tune in and actually listen. But, to create such a radio station, you’d need those who really know and appreciate rock and roll, those who have done the research—not some fat, lethargic mama’s boy who has an associate’s degree in mass media or radio broadcasting.

In its heyday, WMMS out of Cleveland was the gold standard of a true classic rock radio station.

In conclusion, classic rock (i.e., classic rock hits) has simply become the “elevator music” of the 21st Century.

As long as we’re talking music, thanks to the continued popularity of classic rock, today’s younger generation knows much more about the music from my youth than I knew about the music from my parent’s youthful days. That is, several of my students know many of the rock groups from my youth such as Queen, Led Zeppelin, Duran Duran, The Beatles, etc. Yet, I couldn’t have told you much about the music my parents listened to when I was in my 20s like Glen Miller, Tommy Dorsey and Duke Ellington. So, I suppose classic rock does have an upside. 

Lastly, here’s a couple of philosophical questions: If there’s a genre of “classic rock,” is there a “modern rock” too? What is the cut-off period between the two? And, at what age will today’s modern rock get lumped in with yesterday’s classic rock?

—30—

Midwest Midnight

The following was written for National Public Radio in response to their request (for listeners) to answer the following question: What music has changed your life? This post first appeared in October 2007.

An Akron Goodyear Factory Building… now gone.

Growing up in Akron, Ohio, working-class rock-and-roll music seemed to find its way into nearly every home—ours was no exception. And while Dylan, Springsteen, and Mellencamp permeated the airwaves, the one song that stirred me to my soul (and still does to this day) was written and performed by a singer and band that fell just short of national stardom status—Midwest Midnight by The Michael Stanley Band.

Stanley once said that Midwest Midnight was, “…the most honest song I’ve ever written,” and it was the first song that spoke to me about my hometown—or at least that part of the country that I called home. Stanley’s anthem left me feeling that there was no denying who I was or where I was from—no matter where I chose to live following my high school graduation in 1978.

It’s funny how one can know the words of a song by heart after all these years and still only possess a vague notion of the song’s intended message—such is art. Today, the lyrics of Midwest Midnight are still abstract to me and at 47-years-old, I would have thought this little mystery would have been solved by now. Perhaps I really don’t need to know what Stanley was trying to say because his song has woven its way into the fiber that defines me, which is understood, but not necessarily articulated.

Living in the wide-open spaces that straddle the Wyoming and Montana border, I consider myself a Westerner now. And while my taste in music has expanded exponentially over the years, every now and then my MP3 player will select Midwest Midnight in the shuffle mode and I’m instantly taken back to the world of Northeast Ohio—its overcast skies, industrial skylines and its proud, working-class ambience.

Excerpt from Midwest Midnight
Why can’t she see what she’s doing to me
If that bandstand girl only was here
And I’m living the dream, getting lost on the screen,
doing Presley in front of the mirror…
And I’m hanging around, getting high on the sounds
of the ladies and electric guitars
Cross a double yellow line to who knows where
with six sets of glory a night in some bar…

(CHORUS:)
Midwest midnight
Ten thousand watts of holy light
from my radio so clear…
Bodies glistening, everybody’s listening
as the man plays all the hits that you want to hear.

Postscript: Michael Stanley passed away on March 5, 2021 after a short battle with lung cancer. His last performance was in March of 2020 at the Akron Civic Theatre just before the COVID-19 pandemic hit.

Here’s a video of Stanley singing another early song and a favorite, The Rosewood Bitters, recorded in his basement on April of 2020.

In 2019, WKSU’s Amanda Rabinowitz interviewed Stanley for his Cleveland Arts Prize Lifetime Achievement Award. LISTEN HERE for the interview.