It's all about context....

It’s been over two weeks since my last blog, and I’m due for a new one. I just cannot – I repeat, CANNOT - let my adoring fans down.

The problem is that, like any good wannabe journalist/columnist/rock critic, perfectionistic (is that a word?) bloggers such as myself need things to write about. Seeing as I haven’t seen any concerts or acquired any worthwhile new music since my last blog (other than the much-hyped “Funeral” by The Arcade Fire, which I will save for another blog once I have fully digested the entire disc 3-4 times), I may as well do something which some will appreciate, and something which will make others recoil in horror.

I figured this blog would be helpful in delivering context to all future blogs, as well as my first two blogs.

“What the HELL is he talking about???” is probably a thought going through some of your minds right now. And that’s fair. Allow me to elaborate…

In order to understand one man’s viewpoint, it is necessary to understand his history and perhaps to walk in his shoes, even if they aren’t the right size. Once you know my history of musical tastes and influences, you will either gain a greater appreciation for who I am & what I am all about, or, you’ll think I’m a complete nimrod. Either way, you’re reading on, and you know it.

I don’t really know how I got into music. One of the earliest pop/rock tunes that I remember really getting hooked on was Billy Joel’s “My Life” (scoff if you must!). It was the theme song for the TV show Bosom Buddies (an early Tom Hanks vehicle), and also popped up here and there. This was not long after I had started to take piano lessons where I was learning NOTHING like it. At that point, I knew that what I was hearing was more my kind of thing. It just resonated a little better than Bach and Hayden pieces. My sister was always watching 80’s pop/dance show Solid Gold, and I guess as cheesy as some of that stuff was, I dug it. Around 1983, I caught onto the fact that every Sunday morning at 10am was a 4-hour radio marathon known as “America’s Top Forty” starring, Shaggy himself, Casey Kasem. I would sit and listen to all four hours, and tape songs that I liked, onto these god-awful type I audio cassettes which my dad had given to me. They had been used to record court cases or legal proceedings which my dad had been involved with (he’s a lawyer, and not any kind of criminal). I would then play the tapes back as I played my Coleco Gemini (a video game system which played all Atari 2600 games). Rockwell, Nena, The Police, The Mary Jane Girls, Wham!, Twisted Sister, Madonna, Duran Duran, The Thomson Twins, Wang Chung, Dire Straits, Bonnie Tyler, DeBarge, Culture Club, Men at Work, etc. all had songs which I enjoyed. What did I know? I wasn’t even an adolescent. The backgrounds of these artists bore no influence on me as to whether or not I should enjoy a given song. Their sex, colour, race, religion, sexual orientation – none of them mattered. What did matter was that their songs were catchy and seemed fun.

I also loved watching those commercials for “best of the 50’s and 60’s” compilations. You know the ones. The records or cassettes (or even 8-track tapes) were available for a limited offer, and only by dialing some 1-800 number. The producers of those commercials made it seem like the only way you EVER had a shot at hearing the songs they were playing snippets of was, by buying their compilation. I guess the concept of “oldies radio” hadn’t yet caught on. Oh yeah, you had to pay these in 25 installments of $24.99. What a deal. However, I was able to pick up on the flavour of what pop/rock and roll was like back in the early days. The melodies and hooks they pump out at you get to you.

One summer when I was 12, I went to a day camp. Our group took a trip to Niagara Falls. On the way home, someone else lent me a tape of the Beatles’ 20 greatest hits. I had heard many of the tunes before (who knows exactly where?). I listened to it 3 times consecutively to kill the rest of the trip. I was hooked. I became a Beatlemanic. With that, the gates to the world of classic rock were swung open, and I entered them….

And with that, I’m going to finish this up another night. There's a lot more to be said about The Beatles. BUT...I’m tired, and your attention span is waning…g'night.