The Albums That Changed My Life (Part Two)
Taking a Look At Decades of Records, With Gratitude, That Began A Lifelong Love Affair With Music
When I think about it, words fail to express my gratitude. Through many decades of living, Music has been the safe harbor, my best friend, the faithful lover, the perfect relationship, and the muse that sparked a lifelong interest in drumming and moved me out of social isolation into engagement with people.
A world without music, for me, would literally be a world not worth living in.
It’s the thread that has connected my life, and I imagine, was, and remains, the salvation of hope for myself and many people.
Hopefully, this doesn’t come across as a “top ten list”, those are annoying and ubiquitous, and in my humble opinion, a bit trite, with too much emphasis on “Good, Better Best” frameworks of presentation.
Music, ideally, isn’t a competition, it’s an artistic and spiritual offering that is shared.
Frankly, we all need a respite for our sanity and mental health, especially in these times, something music has provided for decades without asking anything in return.
With that said, time to dive in :
Santana: Santana/ Abraxas
The Latino rhythmic-influenced guitar stylings of Carlos Santana and his first (and in my humble opinion, best) band were introduced to the world when he was signed as a relative unknown in January of 1969 to Columbia Records. The iconic, hallucinogenic drug-fueled performance that would make Santana world-famous at the Woodstock Music and Arts Fair remained months away in August, so in the meantime, the band entered the studio to record their first album, simply titled “Santana.”
The first time I saw Santana, was, like The Beatles, in a rare moment on television on the Ed Sullivan Show.
There is no doubt that Santana and his band, which consisted of Santana on guitar, Gregg Rolie on vocals and keyboard, David Brown on bass, José "Chepito" Areas on timbales, congas, percussion, and trumpet, Mike Carabello on timbales, congas and percussion, and the impossibly young, exceptionally gifted, Mike Shrieve on drums pioneered a brand new sound. The cover, painted by Mati Klarwein, with its delayed effect as an optical illusion, became as iconic as the band’s sound.
That first record was helped along, as mentioned above, by an “almost didn’t happen”, once-in-a-lifetime performance by the band at Woodstock. Santana had been dosed (willingly on Santana’s part) by Grateful Dead guitarist Jerry Garcia and was literally hallucinating through an intense, make-or-break set.
As iconic and original as the first album was, with its driving, syncopated, and exotic rhythms, my favorite of the two remains their second offering, “Abraxas.” Thanks to an extra distribution and promotion bump at the time through the Columbia Record Club, mentioned in Part One, Abraxas became hard to ignore for many reasons, not the least of which was yet another lush, incredible cover by Mati Klarwein titled “Annunciation”, which was actually painted 9 years earlier in 1961.
It can't be emphasized enough how important the album art, title, and lyrics were to the presentation of the band. In the case of “Abraxas,” the title quotes the poet, novelist, and painter Herman Hesse. Music at that time was intimately entwined in multiple inspirations, not just crass marketing campaigns.
“Abraxas” begins with what sounds like a door opening a portal to another world: piano strings are raked, wind chimes breathe gently, the congas and percussion insinuate a rhythm, and the distant screams and cries of distorted lead guitar punctuate an aural landscape, panned between left and right channels to amplify dimension. A world created through sound. That track fades dreamily into another aural landscape as we hear the organ intro to “Black Magic Woman/Gypsy Queen”.
This was, and likely remains, the most iconic track on “Abraxas,” and the cut, written by Fleetwood Macs Peter Green, who was recording at the same time and in the same studio as Santana, was purely coincidental, a sort of very happy accident. Greg Rolie, vocalist, and keyboardist, apparently suggested trying a cover at a band soundcheck. The songs, again, like every perfect album, flow effortlessly into each other. This album is Santana’s masterpiece. If you can, I recommend listening to good speakers or headphones.
Santana’s music had a huge influence on me personally. My first band in High School was sort of unintentionally modeled after Santana. Not in terms of Latino-influenced rhythms but in percussive textures.Instrumental Rock with extra drive. I played conga, cowbell, and percussion, (The Latin way, not the Blue Oyster Cult way) and, not having actual proper instruction, I listened and played along to records like Abraxas to get an idea of what to do. Even Eddie Van Halen had to slow down records by the Cream to get an idea of how to play Clapton’s solos when Van Halen was still a cover band. There was no YouTube or Google in ancient times. My band had the honor of sharing the stage at “The Dome” (Virginia Beach Civic Center) which had been graced by Jimi Hendrix among others.
As a stagehand, I had the opportunity to meet Carlos Santana after running a spotlight at a show in Norfolk, Virginia in the late 80s and one in Saint Augustine in the 2000s. I got to see and set up the vintage instruments. After the show, Carlos came out to the truck to say thanks. That sort of empathy from famous musicians is rare and took me full circle. Santana remains a huge inspiration.
NRBQ: At Yankee Stadium/ Skip Castro Band: Boogie At Midnight
My musical influences, taste, and education changed dramatically when I entered James Madison Univesity in the late 70s.
You would think the sleepy little town of Harrisonburg, Va., nestled in the bucolic setting of the Shenandoah Valley, wouldn’t have a lot to offer in terms of exposure to new music. As it turns out it was a pivotal hub where regional acts from both Washington D.C. and Charlottesville would pass through, as I learned from the documentary called “Live From The Hook” released in 2006.
My more musically sophisticated College friend Jay is solely responsible for introducing me to the music of NRBQ, which stands for “New Rhythm And Blues Quartet”. Life has strange synchronicities, and it just so happened that literally days after hearing the NRBQ album “At Yankee Stadium” NRBQ hit the town for a live show, and I was able to see them perform at a sketchy but popular bar in Harrisonburg called “The Elbow Room.” Imagine a saloon in the Old West, whiskey and beer flowing, shots ringing out, drunken men swinging from wobbly chandeliers and standing amidst scarred furniture and broken glass you get the idea.
(Jay and I waiting for NRBQ to perform at JMU, Spring 1981)
The magic of NRBQ is that you had incredible musicians: Terry Adams on Keyboards and vocals, Al Anderson on guitar and vocals, Joey Spampinato on Bass, and the late great, Tom Ardolino on drums, that could play anything, from Jazz to Rock And Roll, to Rhythm and Blues, and they swung like crazy, yet, they were so self-deprecating that they could never take themselves seriously.
The cover of “At Yankee Stadium” reflects this: we see a photo on the front cover of the iconic, but strangely, empty baseball stadium, and on the back cover, barely visible, only through extreme zoom through “binoculars,” the four members of the band as the only occupants. The implication from the album title that they are playing a live concert there is quickly dispelled. Like the cheap souvenir beanie hats with propellers that the band picked up at tourist shops on the road, and would wear in live performances, this is classic NRBQ humor.
Seeing NRBQ perform live for the first time gave me the same goosebumps the Beatles had inspired, especially the drumming of Tom Ardolino, who broke all the rules and drove the band solidly with an unwavering beat. It’s hard to explain the crackling energy unless you had the privilege of feeling the air move at a live show. But this video gives you an idea.
Listen to “At Yankee Stadium” here
Once again, as fate would have it, I was fortunate enough to catch not only NRBQ at that memorable Elbow Room show but also an incredible “Almost Famous” regional act of immense popularity, the Charlottesville, Virginia-based Skip Castro Band.
This quartet featured some of the most talented musicians I’ve seen play or perform ever: Bo Randall on Guitar, Charlie Pastorfield on Bass, Danny Bierne on piano, and Corky Schoonover on drums, whose no-nonsense, powerful, steady groove was as close to Charlie Watts as you could get. Their first, self-released record “Boogie At Midnight” sold like hotcakes on the JMU campus and regionally as well. I can testify to the fact that breaking out ANY of the cuts on BAM when I worked as a DJ in the 80s would pack a dance floor in 30 seconds or less.
40 something plus years later, the band is still out there pleasing the crowds.
NRBQ and Skip Castro lived and breathed the classic influences and roots of Rock And Roll and Rhythm And Blues, and the multiple shows left a deep imprint and appreciation on me. All the original Skip Castro Band members still perform, obviously not at the pace they used to. Terry Adams, to my delight, hired some younger guns to replace the original cast of NRBQ, and the music lives on. If you have the opportunity to see them play, take it!
David Bowie: The Man Who Sold The World / Aladdin Sane
It seems hard to believe now, but there was a time when David Bowie could not catch a break. In 1971, Bowie embarked on a promotional tour for a brand new album called “The Man Who Sold The World.” The album was not doing particularly well in the U.K., and Bowie’s management felt that, perhaps, a publicity tour in the United States would be a good idea. As if the US in 1971 were more open-minded? The “tour” was a disaster due to work permit issues, and 1970s America was certainly NOT open-minded enough, to put it mildly, to accommodate Bowie’s bold image experiments in gender-bending.
Fortunately, my cousin Logan, another key person as a musical influence, had great taste and great ears. Logan was the person who “got” Johnny Cash before it was hip to do so, was an avid music fan, and he had my Aunt sent me the RCA Records, re-released, American-approved cover version of TMWSTW for Christmas.
The cover was a “problem”, as the original UK version featured Bowie in a dress, and Mercury Records altered it with a horrendous-looking cartoon illustration, which diluted the “outrage” effect, yet told you nothing about Bowie as an artist.
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Not that the American, RCA, re-released “approved” cover wasn’t shocking itself, frankly, Bowie looked, on first impression, incredibly weird. I was nearly afraid to drop the needle on the first side and didn’t know what to expect. It was alien and totally unfamiliar.
Fortunately, hearing the feedback from the powerful guitar of Mick Ronson, and the crunching rock riff that piledrives the intro cut “The Width Of A Circle” the surprising tempo shifts, and the alien poetry of the strange, otherworldly lyrics I was hooked:
He swallowed his pride and puckered his lips
And showed me the leather belt round his hips
My knees were shaking my cheeks aflame
He said "You'll never go down to the Gods again"
(Turn around, go back!)
He struck the ground a cavern appeared
And I smelt the burning pit of fear
We crashed a thousand yards below
I said "Do it again, do it again"
(Turn around, go back!)
His nebulous body swayed above
His tongue swollen with devil's love
The snake and I, a venom high
I said "Do it again, do it again"
(Turn around, go back!)
Only a genius or a madman could write like this.
The recording quality was amazing. Years later, another genius-level songwriter, Kurt Cobain, made the title track a hit by performing it live with Nirvana. and gave Bowie a well-deserved spotlight.
Listen to “The Man Who Sold The World” here
America, as history records, did embrace David Bowie in short order, as “Space Oddity” became a huge hit and launched a truly stratospheric career. My friends were enamored of Ziggy Stardust, but, as I mentioned before, there were only so many albums you could afford, even if you’re appetite was voracious. So I was pleased that “Aladdin Sane” turned out to be another favorite as a blind investment.
The piano contributions of Mike Garson are, indisputably, the glue that holds this offering by Bowie together. The title is a play on the words “A Lad Insane” reportedly written about Bowie’s half-brother Terry, diagnosed as a schizophrenic. The “insane” piano parts in the title song as played by Garson DO sound like a person losing their balance. Cuts like “Drive-In Saturday” reach back in time to a romantic, nostalgic time in the Rock and Roll of the 50s. One of my favorite Bowie offerings.
Thanks for indulging me with what I feel is a true passion, and allowing me to expound a bit on these records. The Substack limits on content have sort of forced me to split this up.
More to come, stay tuned.