Indulge me here (or not): I was thinking about my weaknesses. It mystifies me that people can endure Swing. He don't give a damn about any trumpet-playing band/ It ain't what he calls rock'n'roll...We're the Sultans/ Play Creole... ~ Dire Straits
I don't know whether it was the Kinks or the Who that finally defined, for me, what music was. I still watch the British bands to see if anybody still gets it. I watched The Who documentary the other day about the tragedy that was their journey. But it was defined, for me, in those first four chords of "Can't Explain" or the odd two-chord riff of "You Really Got Me." It was all jellin' at that point back in '65. Even more minimal was the three-note mantra of "Satisfaction." That song was number 1 around the world for a year. It's still on the radio every other day, though it is almost mindless. But that, for me, was the definition of why God made the electric guitar. It seemed like there was no limit to what you could do, and I think Keith Richards has been proof. Even today, one of the best things going has been The White Stripes, with Meg White's monotone thud and Jack's one guitar at gutter-level distortion, working riffs under his tortured singing (Jack works with Loretta Lynn, by the way, famous friends). There is a market for this called "garage band." Jack White is very rich.
I wanted to see it in Christian music, but never did (with the exception of X-Sinner). That kind of energy was somehow considered ungodly. God likes boring. But that approach to music still gets my head banging. It just doesn't seem to get any better.
The other side of the coin was Bob Dylan who was really working a different field (from anybody). He single-handedly revolutionized the lyric and no-one ever topped him. He opened up a whole new world, though, and his copycats are still legion (I'm one of them). He made it possible, lyrically, to go where no man had gone before.
Of course, concerning guitar genius, who was more influential than Hendrix? His acid-influenced blues extravaganzas launched the electric guitar into a new nirvana.
I realize there is greatness outside of rock, but I am still stuck inside of that Mobile. I still listen for that certain something that hit us all back in '65. I didn't mention The Beatles because I think they were actually a rare chemistry that channeled it all into something quite astounding. There are umpteen big rock acts today that are still "Beatleesque" like Jet, the Foo Fighters, The Shins, Panic At The Disco, British Sea Power, and on and on. Lennon, for me, was the hinge-pin, but McCartney is the total genius as was their producer, George Martin. Lennon-McCartney was really the Rodgers and Hammerstein of the rock age.
I don't think it is just some nostalgic yearning for my youth: it was a defining moment in musical evolution. It was an injection of creativity into the musical spectrum that I don't think was rivalled before or has been realized since. I even hear extensions of it in today's Country music. I think we now worship to it. And the anointing landed on those lads and lasses back in '65. Or, as Kiss once sang: "God gave rock 'n' roll to you..." It was amazing to have been there. Thank you, Lord.
So, yes, I am a weak man. I got a rock-hard boogie on my finger and I can't shake it off. The other day I was in the store and I heard the opening chords to "You Really Got Me" and the Chuck Berry solo by Dave Davies and I was transported. I always think: "That's it!" So I am still on that musical quest ~ the search for the next riff exploding into a glorious train-wreck. There is probably something better up ahead somewhere, but I ain't heard it yet.
A few weeks ago, a Kansas rock station sponsored a battle of the bands to see who Kansans thought was the best rock band ever. The laurels finally went to AC/DC. Why? Because they got it. They single-mindedly devoted themselves to THE RIFF. They never backed down. They could hear, from down in Australia, the echoes of The Who and The Kinks, and they threw themselves totally into that zone, really only producing one endless song that reverberates to the ground of the soul, the growling chord that expands into an orchestra of tone and hangs there like a sonic Aurora Borealis.
