The Yellow Brick Road to Pepperland

I first heard Elton John's Goodbye Yellow Brick Road album on 8-track tape at a cousin's, sometime in 1974. I was talking to her while she cleaned up her room, and she asked me if I liked EJ. I said I didn't think I'd ever heard him. So, she stuck in one tape (it was a two cartridge set) and handed me the other, so I could look at the pictures on it.

The title track played first. It gave me goose-bumps, as it sent shivers down the back of my neck. It was magic – the instrumentation, the arrangement, the melody, his voice, the backing vocals. I was instantly hooked.

I got the GBYBR album for Christmas that year. Wow! I can't believe I didn't wear it out from playing it so much. The variety of styles was astounding, yet there was a cohesiveness to it all. It seemed as though I discovered something new with every listen.

Then, the following February, my mother took me to Gibson's department store, to let me pick out an EJ album for my birthday gift. And after much gut-wrenching deliberation, I finally decided on the Don't Shoot Me, I'm Only the Piano Player album.

But, then...

On the way to the check out I glanced to my left, towards a rack of albums, and my attention was immediately arrested by four mop-topped faces staring at me. A flood of thoughts tumbled over one another as they raced to get into my mind: First, I thought, "Hey, they look pretty cool"; then I noticed the title, The Early Beatles – which immediately brought to mind a friend's The Chipmunks Sing The Beatles album that we used to listen to over and over as kids; then I noticed the song titles listed just under the album's title, and recognized several of the songs as having been on that Chipmunks album; and I remembered how much we loved those songs, and how we had always wondered what the real versions of the songs sounded like (slowing the LP down to 16 RPMs didn't help [kids, ask your parents]). All these thoughts came upon me in a flash.

I stopped dead in my tracks. I walked (I could walk then) over to the album and picked it up. Here indeed was an unexpected dilemma.

Seeing that I had stopped, my mother asked me what was wrong, and I told her the story of the Chipmunks album (probably assuming, as most teenagers do, that she wouldn't or couldn't understand).

I was truly torn. I knew I wanted the EJ album. And yet I knew I wanted – almost felt I was supposed to have – the Beatles album (even though I had no real idea what they sounded like).

Then, in one of those mystical moments of parental magnanimity, I heard my mother say, "Well,...since it's your birthday,...I guess we could get you both of them."

Suddenly, the horns of my dilemma had become horns of plenty. If the heavens had opened, and angels had started singing, I would not have been surprised. As we left the store, my feet didn't touch the ground (it's a wonder I didn't bump my head on the top of the doorway).

Playing The Early Beatles album gave me the same shivers down the back of the neck chills that GBYBR had (their voices, their harmonies, the melodies, the sense of urgency). To borrow a quote from C.S. Lewis, "I knew that I had crossed a great frontier." I would never be the same.

The music of EJ and The Beatles changed my life in a remarkable way. The desire to write songs was awakened by them. And what's amazing is that the feelings stirred by their music has never gone away. I still get the same rush when I hear great music. And I still get the same joyful/agonized thrill, when writing songs, that I got when I first started out.

Elton John and The Beatles awakened my desire to write songs (it turned out that lyrics were my strong suit, while music composition was my brother Robby's). However, it was the music of The Moody Blues (mainly their core 7 albums) that seemed to free me up to write the kind of lyrics I would eventually pen. But that's another post....

First Of All...

Because I've done such a bang-up job at my other sorry-excuse-for-a-blog, I've decided to start another. This one, however, will focus only on music, or things music related.

I'm not even going to pretend it will be either interesting or informative (heck, I can't even pretend it will be coherent). It is simply an attempt to release some of the thoughts about music that keep rattling around inside my gargantuan, cavernous cranium.

I've been writing songs (mainly lyrics) for over 30 years. I've been writing songs I wasn't completely embarassed by for about 29. I've done most of my writing with my brother Robby (who composes the music) since December 1980. Our most recent creative endeavor was the band Van Gogh, in which we released 5 full-length albums (I've thrown a few songs on my MySpace player here). We also contributed to various other projects, soundtracks, and artist tributes. Declining health (we both have muscular dystrophy) has seemingly put an end to anymore live performances (though I'd love to get one more album done).

What you won't see here:

A scholarly approach. I could usually figure out how to play any instrument I could get my hands on, but had very little formal musical education (a semester of guitar lessons in 8th grade), so don't expect any deep musings about music theory and such. I can sing all kinds of vocal harmonies, but can't tell you what part I'm singing ("Are you singing the fifth there?", "I have no idea.", "No, but seriously.", "I am serious – I have no idea.", blink...blink-blink...blink...). The advantage to no formal training is that we never learned what we couldn't do. The disadvantage: I sometimes have trouble getting ideas across to other musicians.

Also, I've never been attracted to anything simply because of it's technical sophistication. The worst thing I could ever imagine being called was a musician's musician (or band). I love music because it moves me. It may be technically sophisticated, but that's not a prerequisite to me diggin' it. I just think good music should move you on some level; I think there should be an urgency to it (whether it be a fast or slow song); but what moves me may not move you, which is one of the fascinating things about it.

And, for better or worse, I've discovered that I don't seem to be a huge fan of any particular genre per se. I just seem to like certain artists' music – but that's no guarantee that I'll like other artists in the same genre (even if they seem very similar to the one I like). I don't know why this is the case – I also don't know why I didn't realize it a lot sooner than I did.

I thought I loved progressive rock – but that was only until I heard a whole weekend of progressive music on the radio. Apparently, I just like certain progressive bands (e.g., Yes, The Moody Blues, Magic Pie, Proto-Kaw, et al).

Likewise, I thought I loved the music of the British Invasion. So imagine my surprise, when I found that I just couldn't get that into most of the British Invasion stuff (most of it just seems kind of weak next to The Beatles, I'm afraid).

And classic Hard Rock? I have some '70s era Uriah Heep – but no Led Zepplin, Black Sabbath, or Deep Purple (and I doubt I ever will have anything by them). But I love Alice Cooper! I dig just about everything he's done, except for most of his late '80s hair metal stuff (“Poison”?...yes, it certainly was).

There seems to be no rhyme or reason to what I will or won't like. I love Elton John's old stuff, but don't like Billy Joel. I love The Call, but find U2 to be hit and miss. The Galactic Cowboys? Yee-hawwww! Metallica? **yawn**

Hip-Hop? I don't like it.

Modern Country? I don't like it, either.

So, my musical tastes are suspect (at best), but that's not the worst of it. Worst of all: I...like...some..."Christian Bands" (to use an unfortunate label). Take a minute to let that sink in. I REALLY love some of those bands' music (and I'm sure there will be at least a post or two on the subject). So, if you're one of those people who gets that condescending smirk on their face, at the mere mention of a band's members being Christians, then there will probably be something said on here about you that you'll find really offensive. I promise. So, all you "open-minded" Christophobes have been warned.

I decided to try this several months ago, but the universe decide to relieve itself on my life, so the plan got delayed. Since deciding to do this, I've discovered there are music related blogs out there that are better (and more entertaining) than anything I'll be able to pull off here, but I'm too stoopid to let a little thing like that deter me.

Also, with all the crap that's hit us during the last couple of years, I keep rediscovering just how powerful music is. Good music is like medicine for the soul – it comforts and heals. Thank God for good music.

Well, so much for trying to explain this inexcusable little waste of time. To quote an Adam Again song: "it is what it is what it is". So,...

A-one,...an' a-two,...an' a-one, two, three, four....