
Monday, October 12, 1998
| Slobberknocking while wondering just how they get Jeri Ryan in that damned jumpsuit each episode:
Look, we all know music has gone down the toilet in these, the '90s. No, I'm not just bitter because the Hanson brothers haven't even hit puberty yet and they're raking in more money than I'll ever see... and I AM pretty bitter about that. Now, my musical tastes are varied, to the point of extreme. The first cassette I owned was James Brown's "Live at the Apollo." The first concert I ever went to was Missing Persons at the long-gone Agora Ballroom. There's a scar on the back of my right hand from the Van Halen ticket riot in June of 1984 (boy, was that a scene). I own discs from Jerry Jeff Walker, Herbie Hancock, Parliament, Sara Hickman, John Williams, Joe Jackson, and Frank Sinatra... and those are just the ones sitting on my desk. I'm talking about the lack of a performer in today's scene who can capture the hearts and minds of an audience the way Springsteen did, the way Jagger did, the way Orbison did. These days, it's all about the quick sell, knowing that the life expectancy of a band is three albums. It's about who you can rip off the easiest I'll share with you, gentle reader, something I've been compiling for a while now... possibly the best band names I've heard of. Not talented musicians, mind you, just pure shock value in a name:
I catch a lot of grief for digging Journey more than I probably should, or that my CD collection owes more to the Greatest Hits section of the store than the Current Releases. I still contend that the last good year for music was 1987. |