Correction: "Hey Son, Get in the Attic, Now"!

Sorry to go all Weakpedia on you; but I made a mistake in the "Celebrity" posting.
I attributed the quote, "In the future, everybody will be world famous for fifteen minutes", to Newton Minnow. Actually, that was one of many noteworthy musings by Andy Warhol.
In 1961, upon being appointed Federal Communications Commission Chairman, Newton gave a speech. It contained an equally profound and prophetic quote: "Television is a vast wasteland". There were only three broadcast channels at that time.
After all these years, these statements still ring true.My, how far we've come.

Thanks for reading.

Next posting will be before the New Year.

You've Got a Friend, at Least One

I believe that, the period between 1967 and 1975, was "the Golden Age of Music". We enjoyed Jimi Hendrix, The Beatles, Motown, Eric Clapton, The Who, The Kinks, and more.

The Detroit area was also blessed with many popular, talented local bands, such as, MC5, Bob Seger and the Last Heard,Ted Nugent and the Amboy Dukes, The Rationals, Scott Richard Case, Alice Cooper Band, The Psychadelic Stooges, featuring Iggy.

I played in a couple of bands, called the Attack, and White Light, that fortunately, opened shows for them. I don't know what "White Light" meant. They were after the Attack, and before Stanley Mitchell and The People's Choice. Anyway, these shows were mostly in Teenage Nightclubs that were scattered throughout the state. The Crow's Nest, in the 13 mile Shopping Center, on Harper and 13 mile road, St. Clair Shores was one. Pontiac, Traverse City,Roseville, Gaylord, Allen Park, etc.

I'd like to give you a few snippets of what some of these guys were like.

Bob Seger is the nicest guy you could meet. When I told him I had forgotten my guitar strap, he gave me one. I used it for years, and still have it.

Ted Nugent, "The Motor City Madman", was also a regular guy. Pleasant and easy to talk to.

Everybody stayed clear of the MC5. They were crazy, and seemed capable of anything! They used to fight each other. I think it was Goose Lake Festival, in the Staging Area, (where, bands, roadies, chicks, would congregate before the show). Probably, where the phrase, "I'm with the band", came from. The "5" walked in, and promptly removed their pants. And, they were not wearing underwear. The crowd gasped. Again, everyone stayed clear.

At the Silverbell in Pontiac, Mi., we opened for the above mentioned Stooges. Our drummer Bud and I were the only people in the dressing room, directly behind the stage. During an instrumental interlude, Iggy ran off the stage and into the dressing room. With the music playing, he gazed into a mirror, and said, "You're my only friend". Now, where I was sitting, I could look to my left and see the Stooges playing, looked to my right and saw Iggy's face in the mirror. I will never forget that.

We played with Alice Cooper at some high school in Dearborn, Mi. Only thing memorable was, our keyboard player stole one of their speakers. He justified that action, because of the ratio of applause they recieved, as opposed to what we got. Somebody's got to pay!

Thanks for reading. More to come.

Rocky

"Hey Son, Get in the Attic, Now!"

Kids, please indulge me. I would like to step away from the theme of my mediocre music career, to address something that really disturbs me.

The subject is, Celebrities. How do we choose them?

A long time ago, Newton Minnow stated, "In the future, everyone will have fifteen minutes of fame".

Just a few years ago, if someone excelled at sports, acting, music, business, etc. And, were interesting; we would want to learn more about them, through People Magazine, or other media outlets. They became celebrities. These days, one doesn't necessarily have to possess talent or skills, to become an object of fascination. I will try not to mention names. Don't want to add to their internet search results.

One of the founders of this cultural demise is, a very rich trust fund girl, with a famous last name. Her boyfriend made a sex tape of them. Without any discernible talent, she became a superstar celebrity. The public could not get enough of her.

Then came another rich girl, with a famous last name, sex tape, etc. Another empty head.

That's bad enough, the media then became enamored with her sister!! Again, what does she do? Where does it end?

Another way to become a celebrity is to have a lot of kids. Apparently, the threshold for public fascination is eight and above. "Helen and Kevin Plus Seven" won't cut it. "Heptamom"? Ah, no.

People will do anything to get on television. "Fear Factor", "Balloon Dad", "Biggest Loser", "Survivor", MTV Reality shows, and others, show how vapid our pop culture has become.

As long as I'm ranting, what's the deal with Rap? Most of these guys are not musicians, or singers. They recite street poetry. Fine, but it's not music.

You might say, "Hey, Rocky, you don't have to watch, listen, or read any of this crap. You have a choice." No, I don't. People in the workplace talk about it. Walk by a television, or go on the internet; there is no escape, short of moving to France.

By the way, if you don't know the names I was referring to, tell me your secret.

Well, thanks for reading my mean-spirited rant. I feel much better.

Next week, I should be back on Youtube. Camera problems should be resolved. Am still searching for my fifteen minutes.

Happy Birthday, Jimi

James Marshall Hendrix, Nov. 27, 1942-Sept. 18, 1970

There isn't much I can say to add to what Jimi has accomplished in the world of music. I just want to pay a small tribute to the most innovative, talented rock musician of all time. Mere mortals had to invent the Synthesizer, in an attempt to catch up to him. He blew the minds of Eric Clapton and Pete Townsend, the then reigning "Kings of Guitar", when he, literally, overnight, exploded onto the scene.

A formative event for me was attending his appearance at the IMA Auditorium in Flint, Mi.

It started with Jimi's typical equipment problems. Then, with curtain drawn, Mitch Mitchell started a drum beat. Curtain opened, and there he was, cranking out a very fast, rockin' version of Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Heart's Club Band". They would later perform, "Sunshine of Your Love", by Cream.

Jimi explained, "We don't think we do this song any better than them". Yeah, right.

In a previous blog, I mentioned, "The Attack". We were a trio that specialized in "Hendrix Covers".

Our Guitar player, Chris was somewhat of a young prodigy, and student of Hendrix. He could emulate and reproduce the sound, despite limited gadgets for guitars, in those days. I played the part of Noel Redding.

Sadly, all three members of "The Experience", have left us.

Thanks for reading........Rocksteady60.

The Attack at the Grande Ballroom, wtf Van?

I was the bass player in a rock group called, "The Attack". Chris on guitar, Dennis on drums. We did a lot of Hendrix covers. On February 21, 1969, a few months before Woodstock, we played the Grande Ballroom. I was nineteen years old. The oldest one in the band. And, was scared out of my mind. You see, the Grande was one of the hottest venues in the country.

You walked in, traveled up the stairs, bought your ticket from a guy sitting in a bathtub. Entering the ballroom, you were engulfed in a haze of marijuana and incense.

Headlining this evening were Van Morrison, and the Paul Butterfield Blues Band. Backstage, Paul Butterfield walked in and set down two eight packs of Bud, and said, "Help yourself".

We went on first, and were greeted with encouraging, modest applause. I was grateful and relieved. Van Morrison was next. We all looked forward to it, until....Van went acoustic that February night.

He played Spanish guitar, accompanied by stand up bass, and drummer using brushes. Not what the crowd wanted. Instead of "Brown Eyed Girl", or " Here Comes the Night", we were treated to the sullen, introspective, Van. The people that did not boo, were silent.

We had gone over better than Van Morrison!!

Oh yeah, Paul Butterfield, "Blew the roof off."

Thanks for reading.

LIFE AMONG THE RUINS, OR YES MR. BROWN

I played bass for a band called, "Stanley Mitchell and the People's Choice". In the early seventies, we played at the Pompeii Lounge in Dearborn, Mi., on Michigan ave. near Greenfield Rd. The facade of this bar was like a very low rent Caesar's Palace. Complete with cheesy Roman columns. Now, this place was unique for many reasons. The inside was divided. On one side was a topless strip club.

The other half was set up for young people to drink, dance, socialize, etc. Our band was on this side. The music was piped in to the strip club side, as well. Where the fun began is, the dividing wall did not go to the end.The restrooms were used by both sides; and, people wandered.

The cast of characters included, Marty Green- blond, single mother, stripper, and Heroin user. "Count"- Drug dealer. So named, because he was always counting his money. Dressed very dapper, and polite.

One time Count asked where we could meet every day. I said "Why"? Seems he thought I was an addict, and would need some "Boy" supplied. "Boy", meaning Heroin. I explained that I was not a drug addict, but thanked him just the same.

Cheri was a brunette stripper who claimed she was a witch. She once asked me for a pair of my socks, so she could cast a "Spell on me". I complied. Not sure if it worked.

Part 2: The club was also open after hours. At about 2AM, on weekends, we would go across the street to eat, come back, and jam with musicians that dropped by. Yet, another different type crowd in attendance.

Among the "cats", sitting in were, Jabo, Robert, and Clyde. All former members of James Brown's Band. We would play well into the night. Probably my biggest thrill in music. Playing with these guys, was like a baseball fan throwing the ball around with big league hall of famers.

They would tell us what it was like playing with James. No matter how long you were with him, he had to be addressed as, "Mr. Brown". "Yes, Mr. Brown", " No Mr. Brown". On tour, the band would zig-zag across the country in a bus. Mr. Brown used a Lear Jet.

The real Pompeii was buried by lava from a volcano, in 83 B.C. Excavated in 1748, (pictured above).

I don't know what happened to the Pompeii Lounge.