Showing posts with label music. Show all posts
Showing posts with label music. Show all posts
Friday, September 12, 2008
Music Will Be My Life - Part 2a
Thanks to a thread by Scott Sheppard on the BeyondAwizard mailing list, inspired by an article in Uncut magazine and supported by Bill Bricker, a potentially new way of displaying musical influences has been unleashed. Here's my contribution. I took Scott's basic format and eliminated tables, choosing to use CSS instead. As is my wont, I will probably extend this and make it available to the general public. Could be a new social site in the making.
Friday, July 18, 2008
Music Will Be My Life
Part 2 - The Collecting Years (early on)
When I was a kid at the turn of the 1960s my grandparents had a fancy console TV with a built-in radio and stereo turntable with automatic changer. My parents had a old radio with a turntable and a collection of 78s. My younger brother and I owned a portable record player which played records at four speeds: 78, 45, 33, and 16. The earliest recordings we owned were children's songs, pressed on yellow vinyl that played at the 78 speed.
My first LP was Professor Ludwig von Drake which came out in 1961. Being it was my only album, I listened to it a lot. I think my favorite track was "All About Sound Recording" which, looking back, could have been a precursor to Todd Rundgren's "Sounds of the Studio."
I may have had one or two others at the time, and I know I listened to my parents' Christmas albums a lot as well. But it wasn't until after The Beatles' appearance on Ed Sullivan in February 1964 that I finally got my first "rock" album, a gift from my parents: The Chipmunks Sing the Beatles' Hits. Well, it wasn't quite a "rock" album, but I enjoyed it nonetheless, and discovered that by playing it on the record player at 16 speed, it sounds like real people singing slowly.
Eventually, I did get my first "real" album: Meet The Beatles. My mother really liked the song "Till There Was You" and I transcribed the lyrics for her by using that same "16" speed so I could write while listening. The Beatles' Second Album soon followed. I was in fifth grade, and was the biggest Beatles fan, memorizing all of the lyrics. Then for what seemed an eternity, I didn't get any albums. Radio was pretty much the only option for hearing any new music, and I listened to my Candle-brand transistor radio. As often as not, I also listened to Giants baseball games, especially when I made my crystal radio set for Cub Scouts, as the only station I could receive was KFBK, which pretty much only carried baseball games. My music collection was in a sad state. I received Yesterday ... and Today as a gift. At some point I noticed that it looked like there might be some kind of other cover underneath, and even attempted to peel off the original, but stopped before ruining it. I still suspect to this day that the infamous baby/butcher cover is under there somewhere.
Fortunately, my cousin Mark had a bunch of Beatles records and I would often go over to his house after school to listen. Plus, he had a few singles as well, such as "This Diamond Ring" by Gary Lewis and the Playboys, which was a big favorite of mine.
My passion at the time for collecting was plastic models. With every cent of my allowance I would buy cars, airplanes and especially those people models: TV stars, superheroes and movie monsters. I had airplanes hanging from the ceiling of my bedroom, cars on shelves that my dad built, and probably a dozen or more of the people variety, including Frankenstein's Monster, Dracula, The Wolfman, Superman, Batman and the Men from Uncle (sold individually but made to fit together as a complete scene) spread about my bedroom. It seemed I worked on them constantly, and so did many of the other kids in our neighborhood. We loved to see each other's work, and I was often jealous of my friends' skills in creating perfect paint jobs, and sneered in dismay at the ones who didn't even bother to paint the models at all.
Around the same time I also dealt in more educational collecting as well, including postage stamps and US pennies. My stamp collection gave me an interest in the world, as well as its languages. My coin collection provided an appreciation for age and a bit of history.
My brother and I also started a more esoteric collection: Pop bottle caps, and a few beer bottle caps. We weren't necessarily interested in variety, though we managed to have quite a few different ones. We wanted quantity and we managed to fill at least three three-pound coffee cans with them. We had no plan for the collection, but we did use them occasionally to make such useful items as a shoe scraper by nailing them to a board and sometimes just dumped them out to look at them. We were easily entertained.
But one day, the opportunity of a lifetime presented itself. A local radio station announced that Tower Records was accepting RC bottle caps in exchange for 45s. Ten caps got you a single. We dumped the cans and sorted out the RC bottle caps. We had 450 of them. Simple math = 45 45s. Jackpot!
We took our can of RC bottle caps to the Tower Records on Watt Avenue. They trusted our count and told us we could get 45s, or an LP for each 100 caps. We opted for 4 LPs and 5 singles. My brother selected the Best of the Beach Boys both Vol 1. and Vol 2. I opted for a couple of Beatles albums, Something New and Beatles '65. As for the singles, "Snoopy Vs. The Red Baron", [and others]. Suddenly, my record collection had mushroomed! And not a cent spent! My neighbor Ritchie took advantage of the same deal, collecting his caps from discards at the local Nu-Way Market (where we would both eventually work.) He opted for 45s and amassed a great collection as well. But more importantly, I had become a record collector.
The memory blurs a bit as I try to recall which albums followed in the late 1960s. Among them The Best of Herman's Hermits, Both Sides Of Herman's Hermits, The Monkees, More of the Monkees, Help!, Beatles VI, The Early Beatles (do you see a trend here?) Some were gifts, some bought with allowance, but I never had a big budget. My collection was growing, albeit slowly.
In 1967, I was finally acquiring some income. I had a paper route with The Sacramento Bee, and it paid me about $30 per month. At last, a bit of pocket change, and it allowed me to buy a portable black and white TV for my bedroom, an Icee or soda when I was thirsty, and the occasional album or single. I was still listening to my albums on that old multi-speed record player which only gave Mono sound and threatened to ruin stereo records. I finally gave in and bought myself an all-in-one stereo with a fold down turntable and attached speakers. It didn't have a headphone jack, so I would listen to it at night with the volume turned way down. I could stack six records and listen to them as I went to sleep.
Now I could really start on that collection.
Next Up: Building the collection
When I was a kid at the turn of the 1960s my grandparents had a fancy console TV with a built-in radio and stereo turntable with automatic changer. My parents had a old radio with a turntable and a collection of 78s. My younger brother and I owned a portable record player which played records at four speeds: 78, 45, 33, and 16. The earliest recordings we owned were children's songs, pressed on yellow vinyl that played at the 78 speed.
My first LP was Professor Ludwig von Drake which came out in 1961. Being it was my only album, I listened to it a lot. I think my favorite track was "All About Sound Recording" which, looking back, could have been a precursor to Todd Rundgren's "Sounds of the Studio."
I may have had one or two others at the time, and I know I listened to my parents' Christmas albums a lot as well. But it wasn't until after The Beatles' appearance on Ed Sullivan in February 1964 that I finally got my first "rock" album, a gift from my parents: The Chipmunks Sing the Beatles' Hits. Well, it wasn't quite a "rock" album, but I enjoyed it nonetheless, and discovered that by playing it on the record player at 16 speed, it sounds like real people singing slowly.
Eventually, I did get my first "real" album: Meet The Beatles. My mother really liked the song "Till There Was You" and I transcribed the lyrics for her by using that same "16" speed so I could write while listening. The Beatles' Second Album soon followed. I was in fifth grade, and was the biggest Beatles fan, memorizing all of the lyrics. Then for what seemed an eternity, I didn't get any albums. Radio was pretty much the only option for hearing any new music, and I listened to my Candle-brand transistor radio. As often as not, I also listened to Giants baseball games, especially when I made my crystal radio set for Cub Scouts, as the only station I could receive was KFBK, which pretty much only carried baseball games. My music collection was in a sad state. I received Yesterday ... and Today as a gift. At some point I noticed that it looked like there might be some kind of other cover underneath, and even attempted to peel off the original, but stopped before ruining it. I still suspect to this day that the infamous baby/butcher cover is under there somewhere.
Fortunately, my cousin Mark had a bunch of Beatles records and I would often go over to his house after school to listen. Plus, he had a few singles as well, such as "This Diamond Ring" by Gary Lewis and the Playboys, which was a big favorite of mine.
My passion at the time for collecting was plastic models. With every cent of my allowance I would buy cars, airplanes and especially those people models: TV stars, superheroes and movie monsters. I had airplanes hanging from the ceiling of my bedroom, cars on shelves that my dad built, and probably a dozen or more of the people variety, including Frankenstein's Monster, Dracula, The Wolfman, Superman, Batman and the Men from Uncle (sold individually but made to fit together as a complete scene) spread about my bedroom. It seemed I worked on them constantly, and so did many of the other kids in our neighborhood. We loved to see each other's work, and I was often jealous of my friends' skills in creating perfect paint jobs, and sneered in dismay at the ones who didn't even bother to paint the models at all.
Around the same time I also dealt in more educational collecting as well, including postage stamps and US pennies. My stamp collection gave me an interest in the world, as well as its languages. My coin collection provided an appreciation for age and a bit of history.
My brother and I also started a more esoteric collection: Pop bottle caps, and a few beer bottle caps. We weren't necessarily interested in variety, though we managed to have quite a few different ones. We wanted quantity and we managed to fill at least three three-pound coffee cans with them. We had no plan for the collection, but we did use them occasionally to make such useful items as a shoe scraper by nailing them to a board and sometimes just dumped them out to look at them. We were easily entertained.
But one day, the opportunity of a lifetime presented itself. A local radio station announced that Tower Records was accepting RC bottle caps in exchange for 45s. Ten caps got you a single. We dumped the cans and sorted out the RC bottle caps. We had 450 of them. Simple math = 45 45s. Jackpot!
We took our can of RC bottle caps to the Tower Records on Watt Avenue. They trusted our count and told us we could get 45s, or an LP for each 100 caps. We opted for 4 LPs and 5 singles. My brother selected the Best of the Beach Boys both Vol 1. and Vol 2. I opted for a couple of Beatles albums, Something New and Beatles '65. As for the singles, "Snoopy Vs. The Red Baron", [and others]. Suddenly, my record collection had mushroomed! And not a cent spent! My neighbor Ritchie took advantage of the same deal, collecting his caps from discards at the local Nu-Way Market (where we would both eventually work.) He opted for 45s and amassed a great collection as well. But more importantly, I had become a record collector.
The memory blurs a bit as I try to recall which albums followed in the late 1960s. Among them The Best of Herman's Hermits, Both Sides Of Herman's Hermits, The Monkees, More of the Monkees, Help!, Beatles VI, The Early Beatles (do you see a trend here?) Some were gifts, some bought with allowance, but I never had a big budget. My collection was growing, albeit slowly.
In 1967, I was finally acquiring some income. I had a paper route with The Sacramento Bee, and it paid me about $30 per month. At last, a bit of pocket change, and it allowed me to buy a portable black and white TV for my bedroom, an Icee or soda when I was thirsty, and the occasional album or single. I was still listening to my albums on that old multi-speed record player which only gave Mono sound and threatened to ruin stereo records. I finally gave in and bought myself an all-in-one stereo with a fold down turntable and attached speakers. It didn't have a headphone jack, so I would listen to it at night with the volume turned way down. I could stack six records and listen to them as I went to sleep.
Now I could really start on that collection.
Next Up: Building the collection
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
Music Will Be My Life
Part 1 - Making Music (the early years)
Way back in '74, I wrote a song called "Music Will Be My Life" as a part of my rock opera, "Only Golden Fingers Could Play So Heavy". Little did I know that it would be so prophetic, at least in a somewhat indirect way. Nearly 35 years later, music is as important, if not more so, than it was back then. This is the first in a short series of how music has been, and will continue to be a major part of my life.
Going back to elementary school, I was interested in music. I joined the chorus. I learned to play the recorder. I tried to play my father's guitar, though my fingers were too short to finger chords. I played around a bit on the family piano. I played my grandmother's Silvertone organ (which I acquired for myself after she died.) I wrote my first song on that organ about a 6th grade classmate that I was madly in love with:
In Junior High I took up the clarinet (see "Clarinet Player") and that was my primary instrument through High School. I gained the valuable skill of reading music. During my senior year I acquired my first guitar, an Aria Electric and Fender Champ Amp that I bought from my friend Jeff Schnaidt for about $50. At the end of my senior year I bought my Yamaha 12-string guitar at Highlands Music. During the summer following graduation, I bought my Aria bass and an amplifier at Jack's House of Music. I have purchased no guitar since then (1971) and still have all three. I did upgrade the amp a few months later and would still have the original if it hadn't been stolen in a break-in at my church in 1998.
In late summer of 1971, I got together with some friends I met at a College Kick-Off week preceding my Freshman year at Sacramento State College. I had met Joe Spradlin and Roger Smith the previous May at another college orientation day, and met Jeff Mulford at the CKO. Joe had brought his saxophone and Roger S. had brought his drum kit. Introducing them to Jeff, we discovered that we all had a common interest in music. Jeff and I each arranged for our instruments to be delivered to the site (his guitar, my bass) and we set up and jammed together in front of a small crowd of about 30 folks. Poor Joe had to blow his brains out on the sax to compensate for the fact that we had our amps turned "up to 11."
We must have hit it off pretty well because before you knew it, we decided to form a band together. We named ourselves "Ambush" after a popular perfume of the day (Why? I think one of the guys liked the smell of it.) Not too manly a name when you consider the source, but not knowing its origin, it was a pretty decent name. We got together at each others' houses to learn a few songs, and even worked up an original called "Run" that was more or less an extended jam. We covered America's "A Horse With No Name", The Who's "Behind Blue Eyes" (I sang lead), The Animals' "House of the Rising Sun", Grand Funk's "I'm Your Captain" and "Mean Mistreater", Cat Steven's "Peace Train", The Beatles "Something" and a few others that I can no longer recall. In our short time together we managed three gigs: a Girl Scout troop dance, a Junior High Dance and a High School Dance. We tried to add another guitarist, Bob Kobrock, a friend of Jeff's (Bob also became a good friend to Cece and I, and is the only one of the group that I see to this day), but it just didn't click. The summer came and Roger S. moved to Utah. We tried another drummer, I think his name was Jim, but it just didn't work out, and the band split. I had recorded one of the rehearsals during our heyday, then sent my one and only copy to a friend stationed overseas. Why didn't I keep a copy?
During the tenure of the band I adopted the moniker of Borf Entlinder. Upon meeting us, a friend of one of the band's members took a look at me and said he knew that I was on drugs. The thing was, I never was and never have. But I thought it was funny, so Borf stood for "Burnt Out Red Freak." The Entlinder was a tribute to Who bassist John Entwistle, my idol at the time. I wore these platform shoes that had a sort of wooden sole, and stomped my feet on the stage during a performance. It all seems so silly looking back. I think I may have done a few attempts at Pete Townshend leaps as well. The Who's Woodstock movie appearance really had an effect on me.
After the band split, I had to fill my music void so I started composing songs. Over the next three or four years, I managed to write about 50 songs, including the entire score to the aforementioned rock opera. The only problem was: no band to perform them. I recorded some of them on a cheap cassette recorder and eventually my friend Jeff Schnaidt, he of the Aria seller fame, and I got together and recorded a couple of songs: my original "Hurts So Bad" and a song we jointly wrote that night called "Leave Me Alone." Somewhere in Jeff's tape archives are the original recordings. I have a really crappy cassette version, recorded from the tape playback over the cassette mic, while the recorder was sitting on a waterbed. The tape wasn't so good either. Someday, I'll hear that original version again.
By late 1975, I suddenly stopped writing. I was in a pretty good place, with a girlfriend who in the next year would become my wife, and was spending time wrapping up my Bachelor's Degree in Math. Making music was still important, but the inspiration for creativity was being channeled elsewhere. It would come back, but not for many years.
Next up: The Collecting Years
Way back in '74, I wrote a song called "Music Will Be My Life" as a part of my rock opera, "Only Golden Fingers Could Play So Heavy". Little did I know that it would be so prophetic, at least in a somewhat indirect way. Nearly 35 years later, music is as important, if not more so, than it was back then. This is the first in a short series of how music has been, and will continue to be a major part of my life.
Going back to elementary school, I was interested in music. I joined the chorus. I learned to play the recorder. I tried to play my father's guitar, though my fingers were too short to finger chords. I played around a bit on the family piano. I played my grandmother's Silvertone organ (which I acquired for myself after she died.) I wrote my first song on that organ about a 6th grade classmate that I was madly in love with:
Brenda EberleShe never knew.
I love you so
You're for me
Yes-sir-ee
Brenda, Brenda
The melody of that name
Brenda, Brenda
The melody of that name, oh yeah, the melody of that name.
In Junior High I took up the clarinet (see "Clarinet Player") and that was my primary instrument through High School. I gained the valuable skill of reading music. During my senior year I acquired my first guitar, an Aria Electric and Fender Champ Amp that I bought from my friend Jeff Schnaidt for about $50. At the end of my senior year I bought my Yamaha 12-string guitar at Highlands Music. During the summer following graduation, I bought my Aria bass and an amplifier at Jack's House of Music. I have purchased no guitar since then (1971) and still have all three. I did upgrade the amp a few months later and would still have the original if it hadn't been stolen in a break-in at my church in 1998.
In late summer of 1971, I got together with some friends I met at a College Kick-Off week preceding my Freshman year at Sacramento State College. I had met Joe Spradlin and Roger Smith the previous May at another college orientation day, and met Jeff Mulford at the CKO. Joe had brought his saxophone and Roger S. had brought his drum kit. Introducing them to Jeff, we discovered that we all had a common interest in music. Jeff and I each arranged for our instruments to be delivered to the site (his guitar, my bass) and we set up and jammed together in front of a small crowd of about 30 folks. Poor Joe had to blow his brains out on the sax to compensate for the fact that we had our amps turned "up to 11."
We must have hit it off pretty well because before you knew it, we decided to form a band together. We named ourselves "Ambush" after a popular perfume of the day (Why? I think one of the guys liked the smell of it.) Not too manly a name when you consider the source, but not knowing its origin, it was a pretty decent name. We got together at each others' houses to learn a few songs, and even worked up an original called "Run" that was more or less an extended jam. We covered America's "A Horse With No Name", The Who's "Behind Blue Eyes" (I sang lead), The Animals' "House of the Rising Sun", Grand Funk's "I'm Your Captain" and "Mean Mistreater", Cat Steven's "Peace Train", The Beatles "Something" and a few others that I can no longer recall. In our short time together we managed three gigs: a Girl Scout troop dance, a Junior High Dance and a High School Dance. We tried to add another guitarist, Bob Kobrock, a friend of Jeff's (Bob also became a good friend to Cece and I, and is the only one of the group that I see to this day), but it just didn't click. The summer came and Roger S. moved to Utah. We tried another drummer, I think his name was Jim, but it just didn't work out, and the band split. I had recorded one of the rehearsals during our heyday, then sent my one and only copy to a friend stationed overseas. Why didn't I keep a copy?
During the tenure of the band I adopted the moniker of Borf Entlinder. Upon meeting us, a friend of one of the band's members took a look at me and said he knew that I was on drugs. The thing was, I never was and never have. But I thought it was funny, so Borf stood for "Burnt Out Red Freak." The Entlinder was a tribute to Who bassist John Entwistle, my idol at the time. I wore these platform shoes that had a sort of wooden sole, and stomped my feet on the stage during a performance. It all seems so silly looking back. I think I may have done a few attempts at Pete Townshend leaps as well. The Who's Woodstock movie appearance really had an effect on me.
After the band split, I had to fill my music void so I started composing songs. Over the next three or four years, I managed to write about 50 songs, including the entire score to the aforementioned rock opera. The only problem was: no band to perform them. I recorded some of them on a cheap cassette recorder and eventually my friend Jeff Schnaidt, he of the Aria seller fame, and I got together and recorded a couple of songs: my original "Hurts So Bad" and a song we jointly wrote that night called "Leave Me Alone." Somewhere in Jeff's tape archives are the original recordings. I have a really crappy cassette version, recorded from the tape playback over the cassette mic, while the recorder was sitting on a waterbed. The tape wasn't so good either. Someday, I'll hear that original version again.
By late 1975, I suddenly stopped writing. I was in a pretty good place, with a girlfriend who in the next year would become my wife, and was spending time wrapping up my Bachelor's Degree in Math. Making music was still important, but the inspiration for creativity was being channeled elsewhere. It would come back, but not for many years.
Next up: The Collecting Years
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