Drivin’ ‘N’ Cryin’ put on an old fashioned rock show Friday night
When you look up “Rock & Roll” in the dictionary you see a picture of Drivin’ ‘N’ Cryin’ (DNC). Well, not really, but you should, especially after the show they put on last night. The Atlanta band hit the stage at the Tabernacle a little before 10pm and didn’t leave until well after midnight. For those keeping score at home, that is over 2 hours of tunes. The show was loud and long and DNC jammed classic tunes, new material, and some pretty sweet covers. Kevn’s vocals and guitar playing were tight, Tim and Dave laid down the pounding rhythms on bass & drums and new comer Sadler Vaden destroyed the guitar.
The Tabernacle was packed, the crowd was loud and rowdy and filled with people of all ages who came to rock their asses off. DNC did not disappoint, they pulled blistering performances of “Fly Me Courageous”, “Honeysuckle Blue”, “Build A Fire” “Scarred But Smarter” and “Powerhouse” out of Kevn’s black cowboy hat. They dusted off “Check Your Tears At The Door” and “Look What You’ve Done To Your Brother”, classics not heard live too often. Mixed throughout the show were some new tunes, the ode to REM called “REM”, “Baloney”, “Ain’t Waitin’ On Tomorrow” and “Where’s My Country”. While played live before, DNC fans anxiously await them showing up on an album. To even out the night the boys mixed in an ample amount of cover tunes. The always popular “Here Come The Regulars” (Replacements) “Rockin In The Free World” (Neil Young) and “This Land Is Your Land” (Woody Guthrie) were there, and a damn fine version of “All You Need Is Love” (Beatles) graced the set. They also rolled out “Handle With Care” (Traveling Wilburys) and “Father Christmas” (Kinks) which were pleasant surprises on a night filled with so many great tunes. Oh yeah, we cannot forget the sing-a-long favorite “Straight To Hell”, it wouldn’t be a DNC show without that staple, whether you dig the tune or not.
Отправлено:14.01.12 00:31.Заголовок:Obama to Combine Six..
Obama to Combine Six Federal Agencies into One Enormous Boring Agency
Причем здесь Вилбурис?Шутники из Вэнети Фейр предлагают Обаме так назвать новое супер агенство.
The effected agencies include “the Commerce Department’s core business and trade functions; the Office of the U.S. Trade Representative, the Small Business Administration; the Export-Import Bank; the Overseas Private Investments; and the Trade and Development Agency.” That souvenir sweatshirt from the Small Business Administration gift shop is going to be worth so much someday.
Hopefully the president will propose a cool name for the super-agency—something like the Traveling Wilburys. No, no, wait: Velvet Revolver!
Отправлено:19.01.12 22:46.Заголовок:Вот кто присоветовал..
Вот кто присоветовал парням носить кеды с пинджаками.
Glen Palmer Makes Clothes for Rock Gods
Living on Tom Petty's Malibu Estate, He's Tailored Duds for Everyone From Bob Dylan to Fleetwood Mac/
On a sunbaked afternoon in Malibu, rock & roll tailor Glen Palmer rummages through a congested closet, pulling out some of the various elegant vests, sport coats and three-piece suits he has designed over the years. His home is cramped, his existence spartan; for the past decade the British expat has lived in a sequestered guesthouse on Tom Petty's beachfront estate, around the corner from the singer-songwriter's front door and next to his home studio.
Palmer lays piece after piece on his bed, including a black leather vest worn by Petty on tour and a rockabilly-style jacket — accented by velvet cuffs and elongated lapels — that once draped the shoulders of Brian Setzer of the Stray Cats. A guitar player's strap, Palmer explains, tends to scrunch up a suit. "I noticed at times how the front part of Tom's jacket would drape forward and throw off the look," he says, gesturing to another jacket. "I designed this one with a shorter length to mend the problem."
Each garment is in pristine condition, pressed and vibrant, fitting for someone whose work belongs in a museum. Palmer's creations include the Renaissance-tinged garments Fleetwood Mac members wear on the cover of Rumours, the wild yellow jumpsuits sported by funk group the Brothers Johnson for their album Right on Time and the Western wear Bob Dylan and George Harrison donned with the Traveling Wilburys.
Palmer once worked in retail; in the 1980s he ran the now-defunct Sunset Boulevard boutique Granny Takes a Trip, an offshoot of the London original, which is considered to be the first purveyor of psychedelic couture. Palmer's store became a bustling hot spot for acts like Ringo Starr and T. Rex, not to mention layfolk seeking glam-rock apparel and drug paraphernalia.
Approaching 60, Palmer gives off an aura that's something between aging rock star and grizzled tradesman. His cracked grin reveals a golden tooth with an embossed star. He retains a dapper elegance, and his small, thin frame belies a booming, unapologetic personality. You ask him a question about clothing and it inevitably unfurls into a musical memory, as if the two were linked like chromosomal ladders.
Though largely unknown except among the artists he services, Palmer has nonetheless become part of rock history, casting Middle American dreamers and poets as outlaws and bad boys, and imagining a new type of heroism characterized by a brash, captivating energy. He sometimes behaves like a rock star, certainly; if he doesn't like a band's music, he won't design their clothes.
"It's not about some fairy telling you this is hip this week," he says. "I would never want to outfit contestants on American Idol. I'd be ashamed."
"There's really nothing he can't do," offers Petty, for whom Palmer fashioned his trademark rodeo-style cut more than 30 years ago. "He's taken note of every artist from the '50s to now. If you said to him, 'I want a pair of pants like Elvis is wearing in Loving You, he'll go, 'Oh, I know those pants' and whip them up. ... He puts his heart into those clothes the same way I would write a song."
Palmer has been busy since the year started, but that's not always the case these days. A canceled Heartbreakers tour last year — which he'd signed on to outfit — left him scrambling for work. The entire new generation of indie rockers, meanwhile, lacks a coherent sartorial vision, seemingly content to wear onstage the clothes they slept in. What's a fashioner of scarlet velvets to do?
Hailing from the English industrial steel town of Sheffield, Palmer was raised by a couture dressmaker mother and a jazz-enthusiast father. Mum taught him to sew, and they would re-create Western outfits from John Wayne's The Alamo. The night before a 1967 Jimi Hendrix concert in Sheffield, a 15-year-old Palmer ventured to London to purchase an outfit: velvet jacket and pants, blue ruffled shirt and boots, completed by an Afro perm, in homage to Hendrix.
Attempting to enter the show venue through the front, he was told to use the rear instead. "They thought I was in the band!" Palmer says with a laugh. "This impressed the crap out of me — the fact that I could do this just by the way I was looking."
Palmer moved to L.A. in 1975; it's not entirely clear why, though he mentions a dope habit and the birth of his first child (with Joe Cocker's former girlfriend). At Granny's, he sought to re-create the glam-rock apparel by hand instead of importing it, and later bought the store. But before long its style had become passé.
Still, Granny's exposed him to a wide range of musical celebrities, who would become his clients: John Mellencamp, Joe Walsh, Jeff Lynne, Rod Stewart, Ronnie Wood and Emerson, Lake and Palmer. At the Whisky A Go Go in 1976, Palmer met Petty, after he'd opened for Blondie. Petty's brand of Americana rock needed a costume to bring his anthems to life, and Palmer's vision of the rough-and-tumblin' type fit the bill: Western pockets, round lapels, multiple buttons, details like visible stitching around the border of a suit.
"People say that they can tell something looks very much like me," Petty says. "Glen is probably one of the most truly rock & roll people I have ever met." He laughs and adds: "We've been through a lot, he's been through tough times, but we're still cookin'."
Palmer is similarly vague when it comes to his drug-related incarceration, which ran from 1998 to 2001. Petty then extended an invitation to Palmer to live in his Malibu home and recuperate with his family. The two grew comfortable together, and a temporary situation became a permanent fix.
Palmer now works out of his living space; he's busy designing outfits for John Gilbert Getty of the Getty Trust, the Foo Fighters and Joe Walsh. He spends some of his time on the Malibu bar scene with his cronies, guitarist C.C. Adcock and guitarmaker James Trussart, and carousing with the occasional stripper is a favorite pastime. He clearly still gets his kicks in. But one gets the sense he pines for the bad old days.
"Rock & roll has almost become a dirty word," he says, absentmindedly taking a drag from his cigarette. "It's like some dental assistant putting on some jeans, saying, 'Ooh, these are so rock & roll.' It meant something at one point; now it doesn't mean anything."
It's hard not to empathize with him, as you don't have to be an old-timer to bemoan a scene that has gone from Hendrix guitar anthems to canned karaoke performed by perky American Idol candidates.
Indeed, Palmer is not some dangling vestige but rather a vestigial tail. The same day we stop hearing Hendrix's "Voo Doo Chile" coming out of speakers, one fears, is the day Palmer fades away.
From Conversations with Tom Petty [Omnibus] by Paul Zollo. Many of Paul’s recent interviews can be found at Bluerailroad, www.bluerailroad.com.
TOM PETTY: We hadn’t heard Dylan [growing up in Florida] until “Like A Rolling Stone” came out as a single. And we loved that right away. We learned that, did it in the show. We learned all his singles. We didn’t have Dylan albums until Blonde on Blonde . I had heard Highway 61 Revisited . A friend of mine had that. But I actually bought Blonde on Blonde. That’s where I really got into Bob. And I started to really dig his thing.
He influenced my songwriting, of course. He influenced everybody’s songwriting. There’s no way around it. No one had ever really left the love song before, lyrically. So in that respect, I think he influenced everybody, because you suddenly realized you could write about other things.
I met him in ’77 or ’78 [in Los Angeles]. We went to see him [in concert]. Me and Bugs [Weidel, longtime roadie] got two comps. We left the Shelter studio, and we drove to the Universal Amphitheater, had a flat tire, and both of us got out on the road trying to change the tire. So we were just covered with grease and dirt. And we got to Universal, found our seats. The show had just begun. And then midway through the show, Bob introduced the celebrities in the audience, which was kind of unusual for Bob.
It was like “Joni Mitchell’s here” and there’d be applause. And then suddenly he said, “Tom Petty’s here.” And there was applause. And that was the first time it really hit me that people knew who we were. Because I’d only made two records then. Then a guy came up to us where we were sitting in our seats, and said “Bob would like you to come backstage.” So we went backstage and had a brief conversation. Nothing of any substance. But I had met Bob.
When Bob played in Live Aid [July 13, 1985 at Wembley Stadium in London and JFK Stadium in Philadelphia] he went on right before the finale with only acoustic guitars, and people were tuning up behind him, and it was pretty disastrous. So when Willie Nelson invited him to perform in Farm Aid, Bob didn’t want to play acoustic, he wanted to have an electric band behind him. So we went down and rehearsed. We rehearsed a lot. Played a lot of songs. He loved The Heartbreakers. It was quick and easy. You could just throw something out, and The Heartbreakers were good at grabbing it and going for it. We rehearsed and learned more songs than we needed.
He would lead the rehearsals. He would just play us a little bit of what he wanted to do, and he would play it on guitar so we could see what the changes were. And then we’d just start to play. And he kind of got it to where he wanted it to be.
So we backed him up at Farm Aid and it went really well. And then afterwards in the trailer, Bob came back and said, “Hey, what would you think of doing a tour? I’ve got a tour of Australia  I want to do, and what would you guys think of doing that?” And we’d all been huge Dylan fans, and we were very intrigued by the idea of playing with Bob. So off we went. And that went on for two years. We’d do part of it and then more would get added on, and then more would get added on. We really did the world with Bob Dylan.
If you’re going to play with Bob, it’s a little like playing with a jazz artist. They improvise. And in those days he would improvise. Or maybe he’d do a song jut with Benmont [Tench, Heartbreakers keyboardist] . He’d throw out an obscure song, like an Inkspots song. And none of us knew it, except for Benmont. [Laughs]
He had a lot of material. Some nights we’d do a different show. Every night we’d do something we hadn’t done. It wasn’t like I had never heard anyone say how hard it is to play with Bob because he’s so erratic. But he wasn’t. He was professional. He knew what the show was going to be, and we usually knew what the show was going to be.
Bob highly values his privacy, and has to go through a little bit of struggle to have it. He is not the kind of person who is going to tell you everything about himself. But I found him to be a good guy. I like him. Liked him then, like him now. He’s a really good musician, and a great songwriter.
One of the nicest things about Bob is that he’s an honest guy. Really, really honest. Not someone who would ever lie. Not someone who would blow his own horn. And I enjoyed all those years of working with him, and I think we had a genuine friendship. Still do. We had a lot of long talks.
He knows a lot about music. He could go back to sea chanties. Folk music. He really knew a lot of folk songs, a lot of early R&B, a lot of early rock and roll songs, fairly obscure songs that I didn’t know. Some of the times I remember the fondest are the rehearsals where Bob might start playing some songs that we didn’t know, and you’d discover something new.
When you have that kind of success, and you’re the best songwriter who ever lived, a lot of myth is built up around you. And it’s quite a lot to carry around every day. But I admire him for remaining a good guy, an honest guy.
I’ll tell you this about him: I saw a lot of people running circles around Bob, being afraid of him, or afraid to say what was on their mind. Trying to anticipate what he was trying to say or do. I always found that if I asked Bob a direct question, I would get a direct answer. So maybe our friendship wasn’t that difficult, because I made up my mind that I would treat him like anybody else. Though I was certainly in awe of his talent. But people are just people [Laughs] And I don’t remember ever asking him a question when he didn’t give me a direct answer.
I found Bob to really put his family first, and to have a great concern about his children. The man himself is a professional musician and a family man. A troubadour of the truest sense.
He can enunciate his view of the world really well. And he can enunciate it in a way that’s poetic. That’s a gift. That’s not something you learn, or get out of a manual. It’s just a gift. So I was lucky to be around him. I never took it for granted that I was getting to work with someone that was a master of what he was doing But I never found him to take himself too seriously. He was a professional. Never showed up late, made every show. [Laughs]
It was so rewarding musically. Just so much fun. And there were great, great songs to play. Wow. All those songs, and they were really good. It was such a thrill to play “Like A Rolling Stone” with Bob. And we’d sing harmony, and there was only one mike. That was the theory, that kind of goes back to folk music, that everybody is going to sing on one mike and balance themselves. But God, it was fun. I even got to play the bass on some songs, when Howie [Epstein] would play a lap-steel.
[Interspersing our songs with his] was scary. You know, because you’re there with the greatest writer who ever lived. [Laughs] But you try not to think about that. And people were really happy to hear us play, too. Thank God. So I think it really intimidated me at first, but once you’ve done the show, you get used to it.
And there was something very free about it I think we learned quite a bit. It was good for me to step back and see what it’s like to back somebody up. It was really interesting to see the whole dynamic of how it works, how you have to really pay attention to what the singer’s doing. And it’s a whole different mindset that if you’re up front. So I think we emerged from that a much better band. And [Bob’s] been a good friend for years. And treated us great, really.
I was surprised to read [in Chronicles], that he felt he was at the bottom of his game while we were at the top. All I can say is that if he was at the bottom of his game, then the bottom is pretty high, because he really could be riveting on some nights. I recently saw a bootleg video of one of the shows, and I was taken back by just how great he was in the show.
You know, artists at times aren’t really the best judges of how they’re performing. I’ve had nights where I thought I wasn’t very good, and then people who had seen the show would come to me raving about it. I did have the sense on that tour that Bob was searching for something. It’s very hard to put into words. We had a lot of long plane rides and talked quite a bit. It was nothing he said in particular, but I did sometimes feel that he was maybe searching for the next step in his career. And maybe I was at the top of my game, but I don’t think he was at the bottom of his. I think the bottom of his game is not that low, anyway. I think he’s always good. Maybe, like anyone else, to different degrees on different nights.
In the book he mentions Malmuth, Sweden, where he had an epiphany onstage that kind of showed him through the next door of his career. And I do remember that happening. I didn’t know what was going on in his head, but I remember him stepping up to the mike to sing, and nothing coming out, and I felt really worried for him, like that maybe his voice was gone. And then he dug down deep, and bang, it came out, and he was a new man within seconds there. And from that point on, and for the rest of the tour, the shows actually did go up a notch. The energy level went up, and he did seem renewed.
Bob is a great artist, and I think that he’s always going to be worth the money to come in and see. But artists are like that—they don’t necessarily see when they’re working at their best.
[During the recording of the two Travelin’ Wilburys records] Bob was very good, very sharp. A lot of people say he won’t do anything more than once in the studio. Not true. Not as true as the myth. I’ve seen him work very hard on things. And do a lot of takes. But a myth builds up around people. Because I think on his own records he goes for a spontaneity. He likes to get a spontaneous feel. But he keeps an overview of what’s going on, certainly.
“The Band of the Hand” is a rare single that I produced for him in Australia. He did it for a movie. [Band of the Hand, 1986.] I got told about it on the plane. We were landing in Sydney, and he came back and said, “I’ve got to do this session tonight, could you produce it?” So I really hit the ground running in Sydney, and had to book a studio and find gear, because our gear was somewhere else. And get The Heartbreakers in. And we did a track, and we worked pretty hard on it. We worked most of the night on the song. So I don’t know, I think nobody’s exactly one way all of the time.
We wrote “Jammin’ Me” together. The verse about Eddie Murphy, that was all Bob. I had nothing against Eddie Murphy or Vanessa Redgrave. [Laughs] I just thought what [Bob] was talking about was media overload and being slammed with so many things at once. And times were changing; there weren’t four TV channels anymore. It was changing, and that was the essence, I think, of what he was writing about.
We wrote a version together at the Sunset Marquis Hotel. We wrote a couple of songs that day. There was another one called “I Got My Mind Made Up.” That was on one of his albums. Knocked Out Loaded I think. I produced the track. We had done a version of it for Let Me Up that didn’t get used. It’s on the boxed set. So we wrote those songs, and then I took really just the lyrics to “Jammin’ Me” and completely rewrote the music with Mike [Campbell]. And then I sent it over to Bob to see if it was okay, and he said, ”Yeah, sure.” So that’s the extent I talked about it with him.
I remember we would write a lot more verses than we needed. We did that with the Wilburys too. It’s a great honor to work with someone so great. And more than an honor; it was fun because he’s really good at it.
I loved [Chronicles]. I saw it as one long poem. The great thing about it is that it reveals that he has insecurities like everyone else has. When you’re that famous, people just don’t give you that benefit of the doubt. They kind of just assume that you understand how great you’re supposed to be. [Laughs] But the truth is, you’re only a human. And you still go through everything that humans go through.
Отправлено:10.02.12 17:27.Заголовок:Редко,но все же в на..
Редко,но все же в наших местах бывают упоминания о великой группе, к сожалению несколько коряво.Советую почитать комменты под сабжем.
Самая неизвестная из супергрупп
Немногие группы могут похвастаться приставкой "супер". Тем более удивительно, что этой группы могло и не быть вовсе. Заявленный на их первой из двух пластинок состав выглядел так: Nelson Wilbury, Otis Wilbury, Lefty Wilbury, Сharlie T. Wilbury Jr., Lucky Wilbury. Разумеется, это ни о чем не говорило даже завзятым меломанам. В отличие от настоящих имен музыкантов: Рой Орбисон, Джордж Харрисон, Боб Дилан, Том Петти и Джефф Линн А началось все с того, что Орбисон, Харрисон и Линн записывали трек в качестве би-сайда для сингла Джорджа «This Is Love» в студии Боба Дилана. Привлечение Тома Петти было случайным — Джордж оставил свою гитару у него дома. Песня, которую они хотели записать, называлась «Handle with Care». Но звукозаписывающая компания сразу же поняла, что эта песня была слишком хороша, чтобы издавать ее как дополнение к синглу. Ребятам пришлось написать альбом:) Пластинка вышла в 1988 году под названием «Traveling Wilburys Vol. 1»; имена музыкантов на ней были изменены на псевдонимы, которые предполагали родство с сэром Чарльзом Трускоттом Вилбури. «Wilburys» — сленговый термин, придуманный Харрисоном и Линном во время записи альбома «Cloud Nine». Он обозначал ляпы, которые можно будет убрать во время процесса микширования и появился в результате фразы «We’ll bury' them in the mix» (Мы уберем их во время микширования). Этот термин позже был использован снова, когда все группа была в сборе. Харрисон предложил назвать коллектив «The Trembling Wilburys», но остальные предложили поменять прилагательное на «Traveling». Группа выпустила всего два альбома. Хотя, на мой взгляд, могла ограничиться первым и все равно осталась бы супергруппой! К сожалению, группа оставила после себя мало клипов, а концертных записей я не нашел.