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—

A Confirmation of Coolness… Finally

Russell and Ron Mael by Gems/Redferns

While I was laying half asleep the other day, I heard the NPR Morning Edition announcer going through the usual list of sponsors for their show—watered down advertisements that bypass the hype of a product, but simply say who they are.

In that cloudy region of my head I remember hearing something about a new movie/documentary titled the “Sparks Brothers.” Unlike most times, I hear something like this and forget about it, but given the title of the movie, I made a mental note right there in my state of near-awareness to google it when I was more coherent. 

As I was making that note, I thought of the band that I came to know way back in the 9th grade—Sparks—and wondered if this movie was about that same band. Although they weren’t called The Sparks Brothers, two brothers formed the band—Russell and Ron Mael—and it was called Sparks.

As it turned out and much to my delight, the movie is indeed about the band from my youth, Sparks, and the two brothers who created it—Russell and Ron Mael.

Before going any further, I must confess that I was never a huge Sparks fan—a fan for sure nonetheless. I did purchase several of their early albums including “Propaganda,” the album that contained the first Sparks songs I heard.

An acquaintance with Sparks…
While attending Schrop Junior High School in the spring semester of 1975, Tim Kittinger and Terry Verble performed a lip-synch video in our 9th-grade English class of the Sparks song “Achoo.” This little in-class video was shot, recorded and played back in class. Beyond the quirkiness of the actual song, Terry Verble played the no-nonsense Ron Mael on the keyboards providing the lion’s share of the visual spectacle it was. Not long after that, I was chasing down the album for my own listening at home.

On a historical side note, I don’t recall a conversation in class about the video recording technology we used that day, but this must have been something very new for the time as VHS wasn’t out yet and Beta tapes had just been released. I’m guessing this was done on a Beta system the school had just purchased. Whatever the case, I recall watching the recording on a normal television after the production, not a reel-to-reel film that had to be processed.

At that time, I didn’t know how obscure Sparks was (or would continue to be), I just took it for granted that I was a little out of touch, and besides, Kittinger and Verble were way cooler than myself. Yet, looking back now, I wonder how my two classmates came to know of Sparks themselves, especially since few people in my circles knew of Sparks whether it was in high school, college, or any time beyond.

Given the suburbia status of Springfield Township just beyond the city limits of Akron, Ohio, it is still somewhat puzzling that there were so many eclectic students in my class (and surrounding classes) with a knack of discovering various non-mainstream acts like Sparks, or The Sensational Alex Harvey Band, Todd Rundgren, and some of the local upstarts in The James Gang and The Michael Stanley Band. Although I really didn’t possess the same creative skills or smarts to be one of these students, I enjoyed their company, their keen wit and drew on their energy for those things beyond what were known and well established.

So, energized by this new movie release, I looked into how a few of us could have come to know about Sparks—way back in pre-internet, pre-MTV 1975.

Just who are Sparks?
Sparks (brothers Russell and Ron Mael) originated in Southern California, and like Chrissie Hynde and the Pretenders, they made their mark in the U.K. first—only before the Pretenders came along. It was after their success in the U.K. that Sparks experienced some popularity in the States, but it was somewhat limited to certain areas of the country—San Francisco, New York, Chicago, and Cleveland.

Now the “How-We-Came-To-Know-Sparks Origin Story” was starting to make sense.

In particular, Cleveland’s WMMS jockey Kid Leo and his colleagues were playing Sparks, while the influential radio station sponsored a Sparks concert at the Akron Civic Theater on April 17, 1975 and a follow up show the next day at the Cleveland Music Hall. It’s very possible that my old junior high classmates had actually attended the performance at the nearby Civic Theater. And, given this was a time before MTV and music videos, attending the Civic Theater performance might explain how Verble knew how to mimic Ron Mael on the keyboards.

Passing it on.
It wasn’t long after the purchase of my first Sparks album that my best friend, Steve, who attended one of the Akron High Schools, also came to know of Sparks through me. In return, he would introduce me to other music that I adopted to my music collection starting with Jim Croce, Queen, Tom Waits, Jimmy Buffett and John Prine.

This started me thinking about how I came to know the various musicians and bands in my current music library—especially the ones that share a sense of obscurity with Sparks.

Seniors Mike Walent and Richard Sapronetti would have our art teacher, Mr. Bako, play The Sensational Alex Harvey band during my sophomore year with “Midnight Moses” becoming one of my favorite guitar riffs of all time.

The WMMS jockeys adopted and delivered Springsteen to Northeast Ohio before he was huge, Michael Stanley as he was gaining traction in Northeast Ohio and even the obscure live recording “Friday On My Mind” by a band from San Francisco appropriately called Earth Quake. This song was engrained in all of us as one of three songs played every Friday at 6.00 pm to mark the beginning of the weekend. The other two songs that kicked off the weekend were Springsteen’s “Born to Run,” and Ian Hunter’s “Cleveland Rocks.” (For those familiar with the WMMS Weekend Salute: Don’t think for one moment that I’ve forgotten Murray Saul. That’s a post of its own for another time.)

More recently, thanks to Wyoming Public Radio, I’ve come to know the music of Cincinnati-based singer and songwriter, Kim Taylor and Chicago/L.A.-based Gold Motel. Finally, during a field trip to Portland, a student of mine arranged for us to see Todrick Hall, while an episode of Letterkenny had my partner and I looking up Canadian artist Peaches and downloading some of her more-than-suggestive music.

Looking back, much of the more obscure music I’ve come to know over the years, seems to have come to me by way of these whimsical, short, odd (and yes, even obscure) moments in life where I happened to be in the right places at the right times. And, after watching this movie, I’m pretty sure I’ll be playing more of Sparks without the worry of explaining the music to anyone who comes along and says, “What/Who the hell is that?”

See the official Sparks Brothers trailer HERE.