Ok, It has been too long. Life is SO distracting these last few months.
I started blogging here about Springsteen's latest CD, MAGIC and wanted to listen some more before I finished up the review of this quite excellent album but after seeing Bruce Monday night at the Honda Center in Anaheim, I had to get back to it.
So here is the first of a multi-chapter SPRINGSTEEN ramble...
The teaser is this distant but killer video from You Tube of The Boss and special guest, fellow lefty rocker Tom Morello of Rage Against the Machine singing and playiong Bruce's THE GHOST OF TOM JOAD.
From my spot dead center in the pit, this was one of the hottest 9 minutes of live music I've heard in eons and even in this video from the "cheap" seats this is a stunning piece of guitaristics. From the first solos and dual guitar thing to the alternating sung verses to the magnum opus of Morello's modern edgy solo that caps the tune, this is right on.
What you can't see in this video is the look on the faces of Little Steven and Nils and Bruce who were just awestruck smiles as Morello let rip. Now this might be a bit of overkill having all three versions on here but wow.
This one has better video with some screen shots but is shorter at 7:35 (starts later)
Then there's this...best visual of all but only about 5 minutes starting with Tom's vocal verse and then truncated as he starts to rip by the "camera police".
What You'll Find Here: Music, Movies and Me
Since May 1976, I have written in journals. When I have nothing particularly resonant to say about my own inner turmoil, philosophic ramblings, sexual peccadillos or whining on about the state of the world around me...I have always fallen back on reporting the cultural time consumption that takes up in inordinate portion of my daily goings on.
In the 40+ years since my first concerts seeing Children's Symphony presentations on Sundays at the Pasadena Civic or The Hot Jazz Society's monthly Dixieland romps in an old meeting hall on the edge of the L.A. "River" across from Griffith Park, I have been sold heavily on the magic of live music. As Neil Young so aptly put it, "Live music is better bumper stickers should be issued."
Growing up a few orange groves and canyons length away from Hollywood also contributed greatly to my family's addiction to movie going. From the time I was a small there were weekly trips to the drive-in theaters that dotted the landscape, or the local Temple theater for the Saturday matinees. Once in a while we'd drive the 12 miles into Hollywood and see something in one of the magnificent old movie palaces like Grauman's Chinese, the Egyptian, The Pantages or later the Cinerama Dome. My dad loved Westerns and War movies, as if he didn't get enough shoot-'em-up as an L.A. County Sheriff in his day gig, my mom adored musicals and comedies. My brother and I loved them all.
At SDSU, I played in my first gigging band and began booking concerts on campus as part of the well-funded Cultural Arts Board, kindling for my future life in and around music.
So it's not surprising that my first jobs out of college were working in local video rental places (which were all the rage) or managing a couple of Sam Goody record stores in Mall's on the East Coast where we marveled at the new CD format and sold the first home computers and video games (yes Commodore and Pong and Atari).
So these are really just extensions of all of those journal entries talking about the great new movies I was seeing and LPs/CDs I was listening to.
Though iPODS/iPADs, apps, smart phones and downloads now make music and movies accessible in your own pocket, there is still nothing like sitting in front of a stack of speakers with a room full of people swaying to music created before your eyes. Nor is there anything that works quite so well for me to escape the real world and all of it's pressures just outside than two hours in a dark theater, absorbing the stories flickering across that wide screen as they pull you into their world.
But a really good taco runs a close third...
In the 40+ years since my first concerts seeing Children's Symphony presentations on Sundays at the Pasadena Civic or The Hot Jazz Society's monthly Dixieland romps in an old meeting hall on the edge of the L.A. "River" across from Griffith Park, I have been sold heavily on the magic of live music. As Neil Young so aptly put it, "Live music is better bumper stickers should be issued."
Growing up a few orange groves and canyons length away from Hollywood also contributed greatly to my family's addiction to movie going. From the time I was a small there were weekly trips to the drive-in theaters that dotted the landscape, or the local Temple theater for the Saturday matinees. Once in a while we'd drive the 12 miles into Hollywood and see something in one of the magnificent old movie palaces like Grauman's Chinese, the Egyptian, The Pantages or later the Cinerama Dome. My dad loved Westerns and War movies, as if he didn't get enough shoot-'em-up as an L.A. County Sheriff in his day gig, my mom adored musicals and comedies. My brother and I loved them all.
At SDSU, I played in my first gigging band and began booking concerts on campus as part of the well-funded Cultural Arts Board, kindling for my future life in and around music.
So it's not surprising that my first jobs out of college were working in local video rental places (which were all the rage) or managing a couple of Sam Goody record stores in Mall's on the East Coast where we marveled at the new CD format and sold the first home computers and video games (yes Commodore and Pong and Atari).
So these are really just extensions of all of those journal entries talking about the great new movies I was seeing and LPs/CDs I was listening to.
Though iPODS/iPADs, apps, smart phones and downloads now make music and movies accessible in your own pocket, there is still nothing like sitting in front of a stack of speakers with a room full of people swaying to music created before your eyes. Nor is there anything that works quite so well for me to escape the real world and all of it's pressures just outside than two hours in a dark theater, absorbing the stories flickering across that wide screen as they pull you into their world.
But a really good taco runs a close third...
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