Top 5 Movie Monologues with Rock and Roll Intentions. By Lizard McGee

 Top 5 Movie Monologues with Rock and Roll intentions.

or

Everything I ever needed to know in life, I learned from Rock and Roll

By Lizard McGee

You go to the theater and sit in the dark. A projector pushes light through film and out onto the screen. You open your mind to the power of imagination and pretense momentarily suspending all disbelief. Actors expound on delicate dramatic details. You are washed with an intense certainty that they are speaking directly to you. As if a folded horn grows directly from their heart, out through the screen ending at yr face, amplifying and translating the deepest meanings of their words. 

Whatever they are talking about, they’re really talking about Rock and Roll. Everything I ever needed to know in life I learned from Rock and Roll. Rock and Roll is the beginning and the end of the world. It’s everything. Remember in Apocalypse Now when Marlon Brando says that he “… has seen Horrors.” ? Rock and Roll has seen those Horrors. Or Citizen Kane’s “Rosebud.” Rock and Roll has a Rosebud. 

But those are films. I’m talking about movies. Consider this a master class in Rock and Roll. 

1. Tears in Rain (Blade Runner) - Rutger Hauer 

Rock and Roll should always go for the jugular. The emotional response. You want the audience ripping off their panties and throwing them at the stage with mindless abandon. Even if your audience includes that ripped, sweaty, fantastically mustachioed grip who winks at you during scene breaks. No matter what, you want them all to be lost in the moment. 

Legend has it that the film crew was brought to tears and erupted into spontaneous applause after Mr. Hauer delivered this impromptu soliloquy. He ditched the script and went with his gut, abbreviating and adjusting what the director and screen-writer had given him. His gutsy move reminds us that great performance is also about spontaneity. Plus nothing says Rock and Roll more than having platinum blond hair and holding a dove in one hand while talking about death.

2. Don’t Ever Get Married (Purple Rain) – Clarence Williams III

Prince’s dad beat his ass, just beat his Mom’s ass and is now sitting at a piano in the basement crying while playing a beautiful melody that Prince later turns into Purple Rain. His dad grills the Kid about whether or not he has a girlfriend and what their future plans are. 

“I never meant to cause you any sorrow/I never meant to cause you any pain”

Indeed. 

Q: What do we learn from this growling monologue? A: Rock and roll is wrong. You should do it in a basement. You might get yr ass kicked. And most importantly, making plans for the future is a bad idea because that bitch will just break yr heart.

3. I’m A Wolf (Moonstruck) – Nicolas Cage

Ronny and Loretta have fire. Ronny has fallen crazy in love with Loretta. He wants her to come upstairs with him and get in his bed. But Loretta is fighting against her heart. Loretta is trying to be reasonable, she’s trying to make “good decisions”. What does this scene tell us about the dogma of Rock and Roll? It tells us that playing it safe is a loser’s game. The past and the future are a joke. Nothing matters but right now. Why? Because fucking. Because recklessness. Because it doesn’t matter how and it doesn’t matter why. Love breaks yr heart, love ruins everything, love is a mess. And when yr on fire, everything seems like nothing against -I want you in my bed. 

Nick Cage speaks for Rock and Roll. And Rock and Roll says - Don’t play it safe. Listen to the Wolf.

4. Help me Obi Wan Kenobi, you’re my only hope (Star Wars) – Carrie Fisher

Editing is Rock and Roll’s masterstroke. You must have impact. And it’s all in that last line. That one sentence has so much power. The wanting in her voice. Because everything depends upon this. This is a call. This is the power ballad. This is top notch Rock and Roll. Because it’s a fucking hologram, so cool. Also, Carrie Fisher is fine. Because metal bikini. And because it’s fucking STAR WARS and I still want a Landspeeder.

5. Bruce Lee Kicks Everyone’s Ass (Enter The Dragon) – Bruce Lee

It doesn’t matter that this isn’t a monologue. Rock and Roll is about breaking the rules. When Bruce Lee fights, he makes the coolest fucking sounds EVER. Specifically the moment in the scene in the underground drug lair when he fights off 7 henchmen and then after he beats the last guy’s ass, he stomps on his chest, grimaces, makes an alien-cat noise and prowls away to a soundtrack of spooky synthesizers. Bruce Lee is a BAD ASS, people. He then goes on to gloriously beat the shit out of another 47 dudes (I counted). That is seriously Rock and Roll. Because nunchucks. Because you can do anything. Even against insurmountable odds. Especially against insurmountable odds. Rock and Roll feeds on the glory of the underdog. And because it doesn’t matter if you’ve reached the end of the set. Go farther. Who cares what the club owner or the sound-man says. They may throw up the house lights and try to kill yr vibe, or pull the plug on yr guitar amp and try to shut you down. But God gave you a voice and made you a human amplifier. And he did that so you can say “I think we’ve got time for one more.” 
You cannot be stopped.

“You must constantly exceed your level. There are no limits. There are plateaus, but you must not stay there, you must go beyond them. If it kills you, it kills you.” – Bruce Lee

Well said, Bruce.

Rock and Roll always says -"Bring it on". Because Rock and Roll is all about stepping up yr game.

- Lizard McGee

Lizard McGee is a guest contributor for Pencilstorm and one hell of a talented guy. Follow him on Twitter or Learn more about his band Earwig and all things Lizard by clicking here

This Couple Travels From Idaho To North Carolina To See Watershed Play. No, Seriously..... by Ricki C.

I was sitting in a sidewalk café in downtown Raleigh, North Carolina this past Sunday morning, July 20th, talking to my lovely wife Debbie about how Watershed’s three-gigs in three-days in three-different bars Rock & Roll Junket event was going and I said, “I met a couple last night who came all the way from Idaho to see the band.”  “ON PURPOSE?!?!?” was Debbie’s incredulous reply.  “Yes, on purpose,’ I said, “why else would they come?”  “No, I mean, did they come to Raleigh for something else and then see that Watershed was playing so they came to the show?” Debbie clarified.  “No,” I explained, “they read about the Rock & Roll Junket online and flew all the way from Idaho to North Carolina for the weekend.”  After a short pause to take that all in Debbie said, “Now I feel bad.  I didn’t even go see Colin the last time he played solo right here in Columbus.”

That’s the kind of weekend it was.  Dara & Nick are our new friend Superfans from Idaho and the story is possibly even stranger than this sounds.  Stranger because Nick lived in Columbus and worked for our local daily newspaper, The Columbus Dispatch, from 1995 to 1998 – possibly Watershed’s most gig-intensive period ever, during and immediately after their Epic major-label years – and Nick managed to be only marginally aware of their existence and never saw the band live.  After moving to El Paso and meeting Dara, he got more into the band long-distance before the couple moved to Boise, Idaho in 2001.

I found out most of this from talking to Dara (man, I hope I’m spelling her name right) at Colin’s acoustic show Friday night at Sadlack’s Heroes.  She had come up to where I was selling merch and we got to talking.  When she mentioned that she and her husband had come all the way from Idaho for the shows I couldn’t believe my ears, I thought I had heard her wrong.  “You came here all the way from Idaho?” was the first thing I said.  “Yeah,” Dara replied casually, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, as if stuff like that happened to Watershed all the time.  The first thought into my head (which I’m really glad I didn’t say out loud, because Dara was such a sweetheart) was, “I have never met ANYONE from Idaho who was not an Aryan separatist.”  The second thought into my head (much like Debbie’s reaction above) that I DID say out loud, was “You came all the way from Idaho for THIS?”  

Luckily Colin, Joe & Dave delivered a Watershed All-Timer set at The Pour House on Saturday night or else I was gonna have to clear it with Biggie to start plying the couple with free stuff from the merch table to justify their weekend expenses.  (I’ve seen Watershed literally hundreds of times since 1990 and the Saturday night show was easily one of the Top 15, possibly Top 10.)  

There were other people who came from far away at the First Annual Watershed Rock & Roll Junket – Todd came from wherever he lives now, Catherine came from Georgia, at least one couple came from our hometown Columbus, Jenna and her boyfriend/husband came from Hilton Head – but all of them are another blog for a different time, because Dara & Nick came all the way from Idaho to North Carolina to see Watershed.  No, seriously……   -  Ricki C. / July 24th, 2013

For more on the Watershed Rock n Roll Junket. Setlists and recap posted at Colingawel.com

Robin Zander and Rick Nielsen Held Up This Black Concert T-Shirt and We Can Prove It

I have a question and I know you you have it too: Why Isn't Cheap Trick in the Rock n Roll Hall of Fame? It's a simple question, but nobody seems to have an answer. To try and get to the bottom of this, Joe Oestreich wrote a best selling book with Cheap Trick as a major character, I ranked every single Cheap Trick song and then with help from The Lonely Bones started a band called, "Why Isn't Cheap Trick in the Rock n Roll Hall of Fame?". They played some free concerts to help assemble some clues to solve this mystery. The shows got a bunch of national press and everybody agreed that it is essential that the answer be found. and soon. 

Last week in Columbus, Ohio in front 5,000 boozed up rock n roll fans, Rick and Robin helped the cause by holding up a "Why Isn't Cheap Trick in the Rock n Roll Hall of Fame? " T- shirt before playing "Surrender". Looks for it in the clip below around 35 seconds in. If you want a shirt yourself, A couple are still left so click here ASAP.

Colin Gawel really, really likes Cheap Trick. He does other things too. Read about him and other Pencilstorm contributors here. 

Birthday Blog 2013 - Ricki C.

It's my birthday today. I'm 61 years old. I worked a rock & roll show today, playing roadie for Colin Gawel & The Lonely Bones, my good friend Colin's side-project band when Watershed is not taking the stage. The appearance was at Comfest, a local Columbus hippie fete, that I have been attending since its inception in 1972. In some capacity - roadie, performer, stage manager, etc. - I have participated in Comfest since 1978 when I first helped Romantic Noise bassist Greg Glasgow onto the stage after a forklift driver ran over his foot at his warehouse temp job the day before the gig. (Ah, the glamorous rock & roll lifestyle.)

But that's not what this blog entry is about.

This blog entry is about my dad, traveling, hotels and growing old with rock & roll.

My dad was the greatest person I have ever known. He died of a heart attack at the age of 56 when I was 17 years old, April of my senior year of high school. I myself am on my second cardiac pacemaker and have so far outlived him by five years, but only with the bonus benefits of technology.

My father gave me my whole world. When I was 13 years old in 1965, dad started to get me into the rock & roll shows he worked as a ticket agent for Central Ticket Office, an early forerunner of what Ticket Master would become. It was my father's nighttime job after his main occupation at Columbia Gas of Ohio. My mom and dad both worked two jobs. They were children of The Great Depression and carried to their graves a legacy and a fear of not knowing where their next dollar was coming from.

Dad saw how interested I was in rock & roll and started bringing me along with him to shows at Veteran's Memorial or the Lausche Building on the Ohio State Fairgrounds. I was an incredibly shy, introverted child and I think the fact that I was willing to leave the shelter/womb of our house on the West Side to see a rock & roll show heartened my dad so much he'd have brought/driven/conveyed me anywhere, let alone the three or four miles it was from home to Vet's Memorial.

At first it was package shows like The Turtles with Neil Diamond and Every Mother's Son ("Come On Down To My Boat") opening; or Paul Revere & The Raiders with The Standells and Sam the Sham & The Pharoahs. But then, as The Sixties got into full swing I saw Bob Dylan's first electric tour with The Band (when they were still called The Crackers), The Doors, The Jimi Hendrix Experience, Janis Joplin & the Full-Tilt Boogie Band, Cream and, most crucially, The Who on November 1st, 1969. (sidenote: Not one of those shows sold out the 3000-seat Veteran's Memorial. Dad would bring me to the show, wait for the opening acts to start, then pull me a single unsold seat somewhere. Advance sales to The Who show in 1969 were so slow that dad pulled me FOUR SEATS; one each for my best friend and our dates, a date I would almost certainly never have had but for the grace of my dad and of the rock & roll.) (Tickets for that Who show, by the way, were $3.50.) 

Those shows, and rock & roll in general, quite literally gave me a reason for living. (see blog entry The Bathtub, January 13th, 2012.)

Dad gave me other stuff: he instilled in me a love of traveling. In 1962, when I was 10, a coupla years before The Beatles first appeared on the Ed Sullivan Show and Changed Everything, dad had started to take my older brother and I to Cleveland Browns football games. This was in the Browns' heyday, when fullback Jim Brown was a true star of the National Football League and the Super Bowl hadn't even been invented yet. We would stay at the Sheraton Gibson Hotel right off Fountain Square. The Sheraton Gibson, and hotels in general, became MAGICAL to me. You could LIE IN BED and watch television. You could TAKE SHOWERS. (Our bathroom at home sported a claw-foot bathtub only.) You could look out the 20th floor window and see all the lights of the city spread out under you. I felt like a king.  (sidenote: When Pete Townhend's first solo album, Who Came First, was released in 1972 with a track called "Sheraton Gibson" I was BEYOND THRILLED that I had once occupied the same building, the same square footage, as my Number One Rock Hero of that time.) 

I remember very clearly one night in 1965 on the way home from Vet's, when dad was explaining the concept of touring to me, that musicians had to be on the road all the time. I just looked at him wide-eyed and said, "You mean all these guys do is play guitars & drums in a different city every night and stay in hotels in between?" I was incredulous. I was dumbstruck. Dad couldn't have possibly realized what he had just done. He might just as well have stamped Unfit For A Normal Job Of Any Kind across my 13 year old forehead right at that very moment.

My dad never got to travel much; those trips to Cleveland, our family summer vacations to the likes of Cedar Point Amusement Park in Upper Sandusky, an annual autumn trip to South Bend, Indiana, to see a Notre Dame football game with his Columbia Gas buddies. One time when I was 12 he took my sister and I to Florida. It was my first time flying and I was so nervous I threw up on the plane. I was such a miserable little kid. Dad, I wish I could have been better for you.

When my father died I think I had a little nervous breakdown. I can't really remember much of anything from April or May of that year, but by June 1970 when I graduated from Bishop Ready High School I had decided two things: 1) I was never ever going to have a job where I had to wear a suit & tie to work; and 2) I was going to travel and describe to dad all the things I saw.

It's my birthday today. I'm 61 years old. I accomplished the first goal goal by working in warehouses most of my adult life and discovering that bluejeans and a black t-shirt will get you through most days quite nicely. On most of my vacations from work I traveled to see rock & roll bands; to Massachusetts, to Texas, to California, to a lotta points in between. 

I accomplished the second goal by becoming a rock & roll roadie in my 40's and crisscrossing the length & breadth of these United States (multiple times) with Watershed and Hamell On Trial.

Dad, you were with me every step of the way: every new sight out of every car, truck, bus, van & airplane window; every street of every city & town; every mile of every tour. This blog is for you. It's a happy birthday.  - Ricki C. / June 30th, 2013

This entry originally appeared on Ricki's own blogsite - Growing Old With Rock & Roll, www.rickic614.blogspot.com - if you'd like to read more.

Remember the Time Watershed Played Comfest Sponsored By McDonald's?

That was a good one.......................... 

At the time we were rehearsing in a storage garage surrounded by mobile Mc Donald's gear like trailers/fryers and stuff used for county fairs and so on and so forth. The day before the show, we got the bright idea to show up at Comfest dressed as MCDonald's workers and claiming Watershed Inc. had been bought out by Mc Donald's. This was around the time of Enron and all that happy crappy so it was as timely as the day's headlines.  We figured to borrow all this gear and have it back before Grimace noticed it was gone. Then we printed up a million of these handbills and spread them all over Goodale park to get everybody primed for the show. Links to all four parts below. It made me laugh anyway.

Click here to read the "Mc Watershed" newsletter

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Needless to say, the general Comfest patron was a little confused by the McDonald's dressed band throwing french fries in the crowd and a stage full of McD propaganda.   After all, this was the Bozo stage at 6 pm on a Saturday so it was quite a large anti-corporate gathering. By the way, the upside down 'M' made for quite a cool 'W" as in Watershed. Anyway, see you at Comfest this weekend and thanks for reading Pencilstorm brought to you by Chase Bank. - Colin

Colin Gawel and The Lonely Bones will be playing Comfest  Sunday June 30th at 1pm. Gazebo stage. Sponsored by Arby's.   

www.watershedcentral.com 

The Sex Pistols "The Filth & The Fury" Gateway Film Series by Ricki C.

Colin Gawel and Brian Phillips’ “Reelin’ & Rockin’ Film Series” at the Gateway Film Center on Wednesday (happy hour at 7 pm, film at 8 pm) is the Julien Temple-directed documentary on The Sex Pistols entitled “The Filth & The Fury.”  It’s a pretty cool rock & roll movie about a band I never really liked.

My problem with The Sex Pistols was that I always found them more of an Art Project than a Rock & Roll Band.  Anytime a rock combo gets assembled by a Manager, rather than built from the ground up by Rockers, I’m immediately suspect.  And The Manager in this case, Malcolm McLaren (who had already run The New York Dolls into the ground, dressing them up in red patent leather and having them appear in front of a Soviet flag backdrop; quoth David Johansen, “We proved that you can be transvestite homosexuals in America, but you CANNOT be Communists.”) was a lot more interested in Art than Rocking.

In their roughly 26-month existence The Sex Pistols pulled off a lot of publicity stunts – disrupting the headliner’s sets when they were still an opening band (including Joe Strummer’s pre-Clash pub-rock band The 101-er’s), trashing their first record company’s offices (EMI) and, pivotally, going on an afternoon British TV talk show and being goaded into swearing at host Bill Grundy, which led to tabloid headline “The Filth & The Fury,” giving this documentary its title.

I have always wondered how punk-rock would have developed if it had been allowed to evolve as a musical movement rather than as a Cultural Phenomenon, as it was forced to after The Sex Pistols’ media debacle.  Musically, I rate the Sex Pistols as having two GREAT songs – “Anarchy In The U.K.” and “God Save The Queen” – and two good songs – “Pretty Vacant” and “EMI.”   “Holiday In The Sun” is an okay song but, crucially, rips off its main riff from The Jam’s “In The City,” a song that’s superior and (obviously) much more original in every way.  That’s not a good count for a band with The Sex Pistols’ cachet, and their legend.  They only ever recorded one album – “Never Mind The Bollocks, Here’s The Sex Pistols” which would have translated in America as “Never mind the bullshit, here’s the Sex Pistols,” which, I admit, is kinda brilliant, but oh-so-Arty, and oh-so-British.  (And whose Bright Idea was it to fire the only member in the band capable of writing songs, bassist Glen Matlock, before the album was released and before the band ever “toured” America.)  (Don’t even get me started on that nightmare of naivete masquerading as a rock & roll tour, that’s a whole ‘nother blog in itself.  Great book about it called “12 Days On The Road – The Sex Pistols and America” by Noel Monk & Jimmy Gutterman, published in 1990.)      

I’ve always likened The Sex Pistols Story to that of Elvis Presley’s.  With the original four members, including Matlock on bass, The Sex Pistols were a MUSICAL unit, a rock & roll band that played gigs and made records that got LISTENED to, analogous to the lean, mean Elvis in 1956 with Scotty Moore, Bill Black and D.J. Fontana rocking behind him.  When Matlock was booted-out and non-musician Sid Vicious was drafted in (by all accounts at Johnny Rotten’s insistence) The Sex Pistols became a Pure Media Spectacle, a Malcolm McLaren Situationist Art Piece Fantasy, something to be LOOKED AT and WRITTEN ABOUT, a Rupert Murdoch Wet Dream, like Fat Elvis in 1976 Las Vegas, prancing around in sequin jumpsuits doing karate moves and slinging ballads like they were hash.

You should see this movie, you really should.  Julien Temple knows his subject matter and genuinely CARES about his characters (as he also amply demonstrated in the Joe Strummer documentary “The Future Is Unwritten”), but give me The Ramones or The Clash over The Sex Pistols on my stereo any day.  – Ricki C. / June 17th, 2013.