The Old Man at the Rock N Roll Show - by JCE

Who the hell am I, and how did I end up here on Pencilstorm anyways? I’m just a regular guy with a wife and a daughter, a lot of skateboards, a lot of books and a whole lot more music than anything else. I am a Watershed fan who somehow began trading emails with Ricki C and from there I found Pencilstorm. Then Colin made the mistake of inviting me to write some posts. That’s probably all you need to know.  Oh yeah, and I live in Virginia, about an hour south of D.C. – JCE


THE OLD MAN AT THE ROCK N ROLL SHOW

So when I was about mid-thirties, I quit drinking.  Stayed that way for a pretty long time (over a decade), and really, I’m happy that I did.  My wife and I did it together and we managed fine.  We had our daughter during that time and raised her through her earliest years with not a drop of alcohol.  At some point though, I took up drinking a beer now and again, and my wife went back to her occasional glass of wine.  That inevitably led to the visitation of a bar once in a while and the obvious desire to start going to see bands again. 

I’ve seen hundreds upon hundreds of bands in grungy clubs and I’m happy to say that I’m still adding ticket stubs to my collection. Now that I’m going to shows, I’ve observed that I’m usually the oldest guy there, except for the all ages shows where there are parents in attendance.  They are there as chaperones and not for the music.  I have actually been asked, “Which kid is yours?”  That was at a Good Charlotte show at the 9:30 Club in D.C. which was jam packed with teeny boppers.  It was the worst show I’ve seen in recent years.  One show, Everclear, at the Jefferson Theater in Charlottesville, VA, this teenaged blonde comes up to me all casual and says, “Do you have any weed?”  Uh, no darlin’, I do not.  I guess an old dude in a leather jacket looks like he should be carrying some dope.  (editors' note: So let's get this straight, JCE, you DON'T have any weed?  Damn!)   

Other shows, like X at the Birchmere in Alexandria, VA and any of the three Social Distortion shows I’ve gone to seem to have an older crowd where I blend right in.  It’s very hit and miss on whether the crowd is going to make me feel ancient.  I will say that all of my friends and family insist that I do not look anywhere near my age, so that probably helps.  One last observation from an old guy at club shows:  I must be the last guy in the world that loves music and skateboards and doesn’t have a tattoo.  Don’t get me wrong, I dig tattoos on young, good looking people.  They look cool on most guys and sexy on some girls, but when they get old, they’re mostly gonna look like crap.

I was looking at a few ticket stubs of shows I’ve been to recently.  When I look at them, it’s a nice bit of music.  I’ve seen Gaslight Anthem, the Hold Steady, Catfish & the Bottlemen, The Struts, and other artists I really like.  I’ve also seen aging bands like Social Distortion, X, Cheap Trick who are still great.  But compared to shows I saw years ago--  The Damned, Stiff Little Fingers, The Professionals, Dead Kennedys, Ramones, Johnny Thunders, Dead Boys, The Neighborhoods, The Outlets….. I miss the music of my youth.  Or maybe I just miss my youth. 

JCE

JCE is our newest rock writer, and Ricki C. brought him into our little Pencilstorm family.  Ricki knows him as John, but damn if JCE isn't a cool pen-name.  

 

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.