Tuesdays With Ricki - week two / Franklinton and The Bottoms

Tuesdays With Ricki (with apologies to Mitch Albom) will run most Tuesdays as space permits and Ricki gets pieces submitted on time.  If readers have any ideas on topics they would like to see Ricki weigh in on, post below in Comments.


The West Side Is The Best Side

The Independents’ Day Festival will be held in Franklinton this Saturday & Sunday, September 17th & 18th.  (Click here for more info.)  It will be the second year the music & arts fest will take place in its West Side locale.  I grew up on the West Side, at the corner of Sullivant & Midland Avenues, just a couple of miles from Franklinton, right at the beginning of The Hilltop.  The Hilltop was the slightly classier part of the West Side.  (Although everything truly is relative: compared to Colin’s upbringing in Worthington, the Hilltop was definitely déclassé.)

What is now referred to as Franklinton was then called The Bottoms.  (As late as the 1950’s, the entire area between downtown and the beginning of the hill just west of Central Avenue that gives The Hilltop its name would wind up underwater due to periodic floods; thus the name, The Bottoms.)  The first band I was ever in – circa 1968, when I was 16 years old – rehearsed in a house in The Bottoms.  That house was on McDowell Avenue, catty-corner from where Veteran’s Memorial stood before its demolition last year.  Dennis, the bass player of the band, lived in that house with his family.  Actually, we didn’t exactly rehearse IN Dennis’ house, we rehearsed in the unoccupied other half of the double after his father kicked a teenager-sized hole in the dining room wall connecting the two sides of the house and ran extension cords over for us to power the amps and mics with.    

The first time I went there for rehearsal, as I stood surveying the “alterations” Dennis’ father had made to the dining room I said, “Your dad didn’t have a problem tearing up your house like this?”  “Oh, it’s not our house,” Dennis replied matter-of-factly, ”we’re just renting.”  I couldn’t even think of a reply.  I just stood there looking at Dennis, thinking, “This kind of vandalism wouldn’t fly at my house in a thousand million years.”  My dad might re-wire the World War II-vintage radio we had in our basement into an amplifier for my first electric guitar – one of the nicest things ANYBODY in my life has ever done for me – but he was not about to intentionally damage the drywall for the sake of rock & roll.  We lived on The Hilltop.

Anyway, I hope The Franklinton Hustle goes great.  I’d love to see The Bottoms area of my beloved West Side revitalized (I can’t bring myself to go as far as “gentrified”) into a nice area to live in.  I was one of the original doubters about The Short North project, back when I worked at a parking lot at Doctor’s North Hospital from 1970-1973 while I attended Ohio State University.  That entire stretch of High Street was a war zone of storefront churches, bars & derelict buildings, teeming with the homeless street-people masses, and look how nice it turned out.  

Kudos to the Independents’ Days organizers for utilizing the Franklinton space again, may all the angels bless the rebuilders.  – Ricki C. / September 10th, 2016    

Browns Kickoff Party at Four String Brew with The League Bowlers

The Cleveland Browns will be kicking off the season at 1 pm on Sunday September 11th  against the Philadelphia Eagles. To celebrate the occasion, Pencilstorm Browns bloggers The North Coast Posse will be converging on the Four String Brew Taproom (985 W. 6th) at noon to begin their annual tradition of heavy self-medication to survive another Browns campaign. Four String Brew will be the NCP home of the Browns for the 2016 season.

Follow @northcoastposse (The NCP were named a Top Five follow by the actual Cleveland Browns)

As if watching two of the NFL's worst teams play while day drinking wasn't enough, The League Bowlers (featuring Four String Owner Dan Cochran on the 4 string bass, duh) will be performing a set of rock n roll at noon. The event is FREE. See you there!

 

 

Space Ace at the Motor City Food Fest - by Jeremy Porter

Concert Review: 
Ace Frehley - Motor City Food and Music Fest
Farmington Hills, Michigan
Sunday August 28, 2016
By Jeremy Porter

On a warm & humid Sunday night in the Detroit suburb of Farmington Hills, Michigan, the Spaceman himself - original KISS guitarist Ace Frehley - landed with his band to close out the first Motor City Food and Music Festival. The setting was the parking lot of an old Sam’s Club that has now been converted into the shiny, slick, enormous Motor City Harley Davidson store, and the festival served as the grand opening celebration. Those driven to purchase VIP seating enjoyed rows of folding chairs in a fenced-in area in front of the stage, while those of us less-convinced it would be necessary stood behind, about 25 yards back. It didn’t seem to matter much - the vantage point proved adequate and our sightlines were fine. The 4-year old blonde kid with a mohawk and full Spaceman face paint, however, was glad to be up front with his dad, both clearly loving every moment.    

Just after 7:30, Fractured Mirror, the instrumental closing track from Frehley’s 1978 KISS “solo” album (his career high-watermark), faded in over the PA as he & his band gathered behind the stacks and walked out on stage. “How ya’ doin’ Detroit Rock City?” he asked in his trademark New York accent as they broke into Rip It Out, the opening track from the same record. OK, I’ll confess: I had goosebumps. I spent YEARS of my early youth locked in my bedroom listening to that album and the KISS records that preceded and followed it - over & over & over again. Ace was always our favorite - my friends and I. We liked The Demon too, and the Catman and the Starchild a little less, but Ace was the coolest. 

Opening with Rip It Out set the bar pretty high and established a momentum difficult to maintain. The set was a bit of a roller coaster ride - with other peaks like the Alive II-side 4 studio gem Rocket Ride and the unexpected Strange Ways from 1974’s Hotter Than Hell, and a coupla stinkers too, like the terrible song Toys from the 2014 Space Invader record and an unnecessary, extended bass solo integrating bits of God of Thunder, Black Sabbath’s NIB, and the theme from Halloween. I was probably in the minority, rolling my eyes when they went into classic KISS songs like Deuce, Love Gun and Detroit Rock City. All fantastic songs and crowd favorites - but none written by Ace or executed with the tenacity they deserved. All of this fluff was especially disappointing when there are several other options he could have pulled from his own catalog - including the great track Cold Gin, which Gene always sang, but Ace wrote, and other gems from that '78 solo album like What’s On Your Mind or Speeding Back to My Baby. 

I'm not sure that drumhead would have been approved by Sean Delaney. -Colin G.

I'm not sure that drumhead would have been approved by Sean Delaney. -Colin G.

Ace always had the look and the guitar chops, but he never had the vocal pipes of Stanley or Simmons. His voice always worked when called upon, though, thanks to a charm and character that matched his goofy, fucked-up personality. On this night, however, his vocals often came across as weak and tired, almost spoken at times, compared to the more energetic performances we’re familiar with from albums past. Maybe it was exhaustion from the road, or perhaps at 65 he (understandably) just doesn’t have the wind he once did, but it seemed like a little more effort at the microphone would have gone a long way. The drummer sang a few songs and had a more traditional and energetic rock and roll delivery (think Derek St. Holmes meets Paul Stanley), but less historical correlation and therefore less ultimate command of the material than Ace.    

The band was loose, occasionally to a fault, sounding at times a bit unrehearsed and sloppy. At their best they cast a very New York sleaze-rock shadow and came across as a cool, modern version of the groups that defined that city’s punk-glam sound in the '70s. Ace’s 3-pickup Les Paul cut through the mix nicely and he brought out the smoldering, smoking guitar for his extended solo and worked in bits of his Alive II Shock Me solo to the crowd’s delight. For a brief moment, I was myself transported to the upper deck of the Houston Summit in 1977, looking down through the clouds of marijuana smoke at this alien being from outer space ripping an amazing lead from a guitar about to explode in front of 16,000 fans.  

Despite the super-fan dissection of the setlist and the at-times lackluster and sloppy performance, it was a fun set. I mean, who doesn’t get a little nostalgic when their childhood hero is a few feet in front of them for the first time (I never saw KISS with Ace), or nod their head forward and back to the opening chords of New York Groove? Can’t say I’d go too far out of my way to see him again, or pay that $30 to be 15 feet closer, but it was a beautiful Michigan night, the price was right, and those familiar songs and great riffs are just ingrained into my blood.

Setlist:  

Fractured Mirror (Pre-recorded)
Rip It Out
Toys
Rocket Ride
Parasite
Love Gun
Emerald (Thin Lizzy cover)
Rock Soldiers
Bass Solo
Strange Ways
New York Groove
2 Young 2 Die
Shock Me
Ace Frehley Guitar Solo
Detroit Rock City
Deuce


Jeremy Porter lives near Detroit and fronts the rock and roll band Jeremy Porter And The Tucos. Follow them on Facebook to read his road-blog chronicling their adventures and see his photo series documenting the disgusting bathrooms in the dives they play. He's a whiskey snob, an unapologetic fan of "good" metal, and couldn't really care less about the UofM - OSU rivalry since he once saw The Stones at the Horseshoe. Still, go blue.     

www.thetucos.com
www.facebook.com/jeremyportermusic
@jeremyportermi
www.rockandrollrestrooms.com

Tuesdays With Ricki - week one / Rock & Roll Stars Selling Their Songs (and Souls) in Commercials

When I first came up with the idea for Tuesdays With Ricki – in which I will endeavor to entertain and/or bother the Pencilstorm readership with a semi-regular Tuesday column – I ran the title “Tuesdays With Ricki” past my lovely wife Debbie, saying, “It's a play on Tuesdays With Morrie, that John Steinbeck travelogue book.”  (Steinbeck is one of my three favorite authors.)  Debbie just looked over and said, “John Steinbeck didn’t write Tuesdays With Morrie.  That book was about a sports writer visiting his old professor.”  “Uhhh, I don’t think so,” I replied, “I’m pretty sure it was Steinbeck.”

It didn’t take Google long to straighten me out that I was thinking of Travels With Charley by Steinbeck, and the professor in Tuesdays With Morrie is losing his memory, so I’m probably definitely closer to Morrie than Steinbeck.

Anyway, Tuesdays With Ricki will be a hodge-podge of topics – my late-night TV rundown (literally), some music, some books (the Springsteen auto-b comes out September 27th, I’m hyped for that), movies, rock stars selling their asses to the highest bidder to get their songs into commercials (obviously a continuing boil on the skin of my universe), some Ricki C. rock & roll stories, etc. – whatever I feel like babbling about that week.  Let’s see how many Tuesdays I can get in before I drop the ball or Colin decides he’s had enough of my guff.

 

Rock & roll stars selling their songs (and souls) in commercials.

It’s getting so I can’t get through a single evening of television viewing without being confronted with my favorite rock & rollers selling out their birthright to the Lowest Common Denominator of network commercials.  Actually, in the case of The Rolling Stones’ “Sympathy For The Devil” being used by fucking PETSMART for God’s sake, we’ve actually found a way to go BELOW the Lowest Common Denominator – something my fifth-grade math back at St. Aloysius tells me is impossible, but here we are.

I fully realize I’ve bored readers with this subject before, but now it’s not just alt-rockers & pop stars peddling their asses to the Highest Bidder, it’s the BIG THREE of bands I formerly loved – The Rolling Stones, The Who and The Clash – offering up their tunes on the altar of the Big Bucks.  Of course this is nothing new, Pete Townshend has been selling out The Who tunes for DECADES (and, in fact, called an album The Who Sell Out back in 1967, but back then he was being all arty & ironic, it's only now we realize he was merely peering into his future).  Just last night in the course of one evening of TV I caught “Eminence Front,” “Baba O’Riley” and “Won’t Get Fooled Again” being trotted out to sell Disposables to The Masses.  Even by Pete’s rather dubious commercial standards, this might be approaching overkill.

“Won’t Get Fooled Again” was formerly my FAVORITE rock & roll song of all time.  I find now I can’t even listen to it when it comes on oldies radio in the car, let alone put it on my stereo at home.  And I fully realize that many Pencilstorm readers will say, “Jeeez, Ricki, it’s just a commercial.  It’s only rock & roll.  Lighten up.”  But I find as I grow older I find I CAN’T lighten up on this topic.  It’s hard to explain to regular people just HOW MUCH these songs once meant to me, and HOW HARD it is to hear them being used to sell dog food.  “Sympathy For The Devil” for Petsmart?  HOW BADLY could Mick Jagger & Keith Richards have needed that money?  It’s one thing for Mick & Keith to sell “Satisfaction” to whatever commercial that’s in, it’s quite another to peddle their paean to The Prince of Darkness to Petsmart.  What do cute cartoon puppies, “The Secret Life of Pets” and Satan have in common?  How many millions is too many millions?     

Which brings us to the next point: I’m thinking that all of a sudden we’re hearing Clash tunes – “Should I Stay or Should I Go,” “London Calling,” etc. – in commercials because Mick Jones and whichever widow of Joe Strummer’s has control of his publishing have finally signed on the dotted line.  I still have a problem with The Clash – who actually BACKED UP their early radical political leanings with action, the Rock Against Racism shows & such – being used as fodder for hotel reservations, but someone who married Joe Strummer probably still has his kids to raise, so maybe that woman gets a pass.  Do I believe we would have heard these songs on commercials if Joe Strummer were still alive?  Lord God Jesus, I hope not.  

Okay, one of my self-imposed limits on Tuesdays With Ricki is that no post will go over 750 words and we’re coming perilously close that barrier so let me just say two things: 1) Artists are fully entitled to do whatever they want with their creations, but just don’t come crying to me for my Concert Buck after you do.  You made your money, you lost my respect, I guess we’re even.  2) The Rolling Stones, The Who and The Clash all used to believe in something – the righteous power of rock & roll – and now they don’t.  I still do.  How quaint.  – Ricki C. / September 4, 2016.

Let's Pretend We Are Talking in a Bar About the Great John Fogerty - Colin Gawel

John Fogerty is playing The Jack Casino in Cincinnati Friday August 27th. I'm going.

The movie Green Room made me go back and listen to Green River.

I was going to use that as the title of this story but figured nobody would know what the hell I was talking about. Anyway, it's funny how things work out. This summer my wife and I had a brief window of free time and decided on a whim to go check out a matinee screening of the movie Green Room. We had heard good things about it. The clerk at the Gateway said, "It's a lot of fun."

It was a fun movie if fun means punk kids getting stabbed in the head and young musicians getting their throats ripped out by Nazi pit bulls.  Nothing against the movie, it's pretty damn good, it's just not what we normally have in mind for our typical "date" entertainment. My wife had her hands over her face the entire time. 

As the final credits rolled and one of the pit bulls walked peacefully past what could be his final victim I turned to my wife - who was still covering her face - and said, "What is this song? It's amazing. It sounds like Creedence?" The song was "Sinister Purpose" from the record Green River.  Huh. How I did I miss this nugget? I thought I knew all the good CCR stuff. (Listen Here)

Apparently not. I decided it was time to go back with fresh ears and give it all another listen. AND I finally got around to reading John's autobiography which I had been meaning to do since reading this review by James A. Baumann.

OK, I don't have the time/energy/talent/beer to organize all my thoughts into pleasing prose at this time. I just have to get these thoughts off my mind before going to see Fogerty this Friday in Cincinnati. Let's just pretend we are standing at Colin's Coffee or Four String Brew and I just start rambling off thoughts. You can pretend you are there and start yelling back why I am wrong.

- In 1969 Creedence had the greatest year of any rock band in history. They released THREE classic albums in ONE Year. They outsold The Beatles and did it by completely flying into the face of what was popular at the time (tight, great 3-minute SONGS as opposed to endless jams or, God help us, concept records). They headlined a little festival called Woodstock, but because they refused to let their music or images be used in the film or soundtrack, not many people know they even played that weekend. 

- For these reasons, overall rocking-ness and the bands' continuing relevance, one could make the case that CCR are the greatest American rock band ever. They have hits like the Beach Boys, lyrics as strong as Bruce or Bob and the punk/grunge influence on a generation similar to the Ramones. Once again it's worth mentioning that in a two year period they had TEN top five singles, (OK, "Fortunate Son" was #6) and they outsold The Beatles in 1969 and 1970. I know The Beatles were breaking up and coming to an end, but it still counts to be the man who beat the man. Just ask Buster Douglas. 

- Taken in context of the Vietnam war, the draft, and the campus riots nationwide, the song "Fortunate Son" is the greatest protest song in American history. Or as James Baumann puts it, "the first punk rock song." 

"Some folks are born made to wave the flag
Ooh, they're red, white and blue
And when the band plays "Hail to the chief"
Ooh, they point the cannon at you, Lord
It ain't me, it ain't me, I ain't no senator's son, son
It ain't me, it ain't me; I ain't no fortunate one, no
Some folks are born silver spoon in hand
Lord, don't they help themselves, oh
But when the taxman comes to the door
Lord, the house looks like a rummage sale, yes
It ain't me, it ain't me, I ain't no millionaire's son, no
It ain't me, it ain't me; I ain't no fortunate one, no"

Holy Shit! (John, by the way, served two years in the reserves, active duty.)

- Two hundred years from now, songs like "Proud Mary," "Lookin' Out My Back Door" and "Centerfield" will be held in the same esteem as the works of Mark Twain and Walt Whitman. It could be possible that only Bruce Springsteen's songs will have left a bigger mark on America than John Fogerty. Yes, John could eventually be considered more important than Dylan.

"Left a good job in the city
Workin' for the man ev'ry night and day
And I never lost one minute of sleepin'
Worryin' 'bout the way things might have been"

"Just got home from Illinois,
Lock the front door, oh, boy!
Got to sit down,
Take a rest on the porch.
Imagination sets in,
Pretty soon I'm singin'.
Doo, doo, doo,
Lookin' out my back door."

"Well, a-beat the drum and hold the phone
The sun came out today
We're born again, there's new grass on the field
A-roundin' third and headed for home
It's a brown-eyed handsome man
Anyone can understand the way I feel

Oh, put me in coach, I'm ready to play today
Put me in coach, I'm ready to play today
Look at me, I can be centerfield"

- John Fogerty is now my favorite guitar player. I love the way John finds a guitar hook and before rushing off to the next lick, he lets you hear it a couple of times. It's why CCR "jams" like "Ramble Tamble" hold up and jam bands never do. 

Uploaded by lovalver on 2010-11-28.

 

Off the top of my head, my new personal guitar hero rankings 1) John Fogerty 2) Willie Phoenix 3) Bruce Springsteen 4) Chuck Berry 5) Pete Anderson 6) Angus Young 7) Willie Nelson 8) Ace Frehley 9) John Speck 10) Andy Harrison

- John got screwed worse than any white musician in pop history. He lost all his songs. He got sued for sounding like himself. It went all the way to the Supreme Court. He lost all his money in an off-shore account set up by his label. Fantasy record owner Saul Zaentz is truly an evil bastard who is hopefully rotting in hell as I write this.

- I'm sure working with John was no walk in the park but many of the greats are a huge pain in the ass. But the fact that his Creedence band mates sold their "votes" to Saul for $30,000 so he could outvote John on band issues 3-1 is beyond contemptible. John was justified in his refusal to play with Doug, Stu and his brother Tom after that knife in his back. John may have been a load to handle, but without his talent and work ethic nobody in that group gets rich or famous. 

- Still, John likes to bash his former band mates lack of musicality but I have to defend the original CCR on this one. No matter how many crack musicians John stacks in his solo band, there is a magic to the original line-up that cannot be recaptured live. The most talented band isn't always the best band. See: Neil Young and Crazy Horse in which Neil obviously was trying to follow the path CCR had laid down. Watch below. 

Live In Royal Albert Hall 1970

OK, that's it for now. Let's continue this discussion over a beer at the Cleveland Browns kick-off party at Four String Brew Sunday, September 11th. League Bowlers playing a FREE set at noon, sure to include some CCR. 

Colin Gawel is going to see John Fogerty in Cincinnati Friday August 26th.