It'll Never Last

I don't know when I first took an interest in music, but my first memories are of my parents listening to the radio. This was in the 1950s and the radio and the gramophone were the only sources of music in our house. My folks were lovers of the classical genre of music, the heavier the better. Music like Wagner (have you heard the screeching sirens bellowing their way through arias in his operas?), Beethoven (much nicer), Tchaikovsky (even nicer) and Bach to name a few. I neither liked or disliked this music, but certain items in my father's record collection were more interesting. After wading through the heavy stuff, I came across gems such as Sparky's Magic Piano, Eamonn Andrews telling the story of the Giant's Causeway, Danny Kaye telling the musical tale of Tubby the Tuba, and a particular favourite of mine, Life Get's Tedious. I don't know who sang/recited this little ditty, but it had some wonderful lyrics which I can recall to this day: "Old hound dog, he's so forlorn; Laziest dog that ever was born; He's howlin' 'cos he's sittin' on a thorn; he's just too tired to move over". My father, however, forbade me to listen to Don't Mention Wives to the Sultan which of course I did, but couldn't understand then why I shouldn't listen to it.

We used to go every year for our holidays to a little fishing village called Ardglass in Co Down, to a house my grandfather owned. I loved this place which was a child's paradise, beach beside the house, the sea just over the backwall (on a stormy day, the waves would crash into the backyard) and of course no school. One time my cousin Tim and myself were in Charlie's shop which had a jukebox. Tim put some money in and we choose Elvis Presley singing Jailhouse Rock. Don't know why we choose that particular number, but the effect was electrifying. I had not realised there was such pounding, uplifting, exciting and mad music. "Play it again, Tim," I cried when it ended. He did and we must have listened to it till most of his money was gone. Naturally I got the blame for spending all Tim's holiday money when I got home, but I didn't care. I had discovered Elvis Presley. Roll over Beethoven, my musical education was beginning.

My father wasn't exactly over the moon when I told him about what I had found although to be fair my mother didn't seem to mind so much. "It'll never last," he said emphatically and that was that. I didn't know what he meant by that remark. Not till years later when I realised he was right, although not about Elvis. He has lasted and why?...because he is one of the greatest rock singers of the last century. So called cultured musicians like to sneer and say Presley was rubbish and I should listen to the original Hound Dog recording by Willie May Thornton. I have and I have to say, it's crap. I can genuinely say there is no better version that the Elvis Presley recording.

But other than the jukebox down the road, where else could I hear this music? Apparently nowhere. I was 9 when I heard Jailhouse Rock and didn't know of any other radio stations other than the BBC and Radio Eireann and they sure as hell didn't play this sort of music. So I was stuck for a year or so until one day I found Radio Luxembourg. Here I found a program with a guy called Jimmy Savile who played nothing but Elvis. So I was introduced to a whole wealth of this singer's music. Now the next step was to get my hands on an album by Presley and managed to convince my mother to get Rock 'n' Roll No 2 as a Christmas present. Magic to this day!

The next great step was finding Radio Caroline. By this time I was 16. As we didn't have a television set, I was forced to go to friend's houses to see BBC which had a program called Top of the Pops. Around the same time the Beatles exploded on the scene. I didn't like them at all, but they were quickly followed by the Rolling Stones who were so much better. In later years the Stones went downhill while the Beatles improved immensely. However, it wasn't long till a new phenomenon began to emerge. I first became aware of this when I noticed an intriguing album cover a colleague had tucked under his arm and I asked him who it was. Cream he said, a blues band with Eric Clapton, Jack Bruce and Ginger Baker. I'd never heard of the blues let alone a band who played them. I don't know what prompted me (maybe it was the album cover and I've bought other albums based on their covers alone, some with great results and others disastrous) but I went out and purchased the album. It was like hearing Jailhouse Rock all over again with new ears. Tracks like N.S.U. and I'm So Glad simply burst from the record player. Sublime, ethereal and grounded. Shortly after I found John Mayall and his Bluesbreakers. While both these bands were blues based they were the beginning of the progressive music scene. Artists like Pink Floyd, Santana, It's A Beautiful Day, The Doors began to appear. Others who weren't bagged in the progressive genre were Bob Dylan and the Greenwich Village folk scene with artists like Peter, Paul & Mary, Tom Paxton and Joan Baez. I'd like to mention Joni Mitchell also, but I don't think she was part of the Greenwich Village scene.

Then one day I picked up the New Musical Express, or was it Melody Maker (a doubt crosses my mind), the premier weekly music papers from the UK. They had a review of the first album, Freak out, released by The Mothers of Invention which was Frank Zappa's band. I wish I could remember the name of the guy who did the review but it was the worst review I had ever read. He basically said the music was worse than awful and named some of the song titles: Who are the Brain Police?, Hungry Freaks Daddy, Help, I'm a Rock, Return of the Son of Monster Magnet. Well, of course, I was so intrigued I had to hear this album. In those days, the only place to get your hands on records was the record shops (even Richard Branson's Virgin mail order wasn't around). So I traipsed through all the record stores in Dublin. Nobody had heard of this obscure American group. Even the International Record Store (at least I think that's what it was called) in Tara Street had never heard of it. So I had to give up or maybe take a plane to London and try there (very expensive then, Michael O'Leary was still in short pants). However, about a year later I happened to be in the record shop in Tara Street, and there was Zappa's second album, Absolutely Free. Naturally I snapped it up and once again this music of sheer genius (at least to me) exploded into existence: Plastic People, Call Any Vegetable, and Uncle Bernie's Farm. One track, Invocation and Ritual Dance of the Young Pumpkin had a blistering guitar solo backed up by flute which clocked in at 7 minutes and raised the music above anything else I had ever heard. There is simply nothing produced by our modern musicians which can equal it. Really, I'm not joking.

In 1970 came the album which probably defined a generation, Fill your Head with Rock, with the eponymous cover of the demonic looking violin player from the band Flock. This was a sampler of various New World artists, introducing us to the likes of Leonard Cohen, Johnny Winter, Chicago, and Blood, Sweat & Tears. So with such a wealth of music to choose from, I, being young and foolish, began to feel the vibes from my friends who had also adopted this music and soon Rolling Stone magazine was telling us who it was cool or uncool to follow. Poor old Zappa didn't get a word in and Presley was decidedly uncool. I don't know how long afterwards that I read somewhere about Bob Dylan paying a visit to Sun Studios in Memphis (the home of Presley, Jerry Lee Lewis, Roy Orbison to name a few). He reportedly knelt down and kissed the floor with the words "This is where it all started". Now whether that story is true or not, I suddenly realised he was right and it wasn't up to the hip types to tell me or anybody else who I could and couldn't like. I followed my own preferences and found that Presley and Zappa sat very well together, thank you. I liked them both and you could argue as to who was the better, and even if Zappa was the better musician and Presley the better singer/showman, it didn't matter. They both spoke to me and their music moved me in different ways.

So, who will last and who won't? In this piece I'm ignoring the modern classical world as I know nothing about it. Obviously the old classical music has lasted and I expect it will last for many more generations to come. I also haven't mentioned the world of jazz, much of which will last and much of which won't. Other than ethnic music I concentrate on what we can loosely call pop music (which includes rock, country, metal, progressive (a snotty term really) and all their offshoots). Any of the boy bands will not last. Nothing they have done can stand against the sheer might of the far superior music of the sixties and seventies. Even the great U2 (except for their classic album The Joshua Tree) won't last much longer. In fact I can't think of any new artist who has come along in the last 30 years who will last much beyond the next 30 years. But the really great will last: Elvis Presley, the Beatles, Frank Zappa, Bob Dylan. Elvis had a magic voice, charisma, charm and he could really sing, a showman who could hold his audience in the palm of his hand. The Beatles in the persons of John Lennon and Paul McCartney were songwriters of the highest calibre. Frank Zappa was pure genius even though he had a ridiculous and childish side (his dirty lyrics were funny but ultimately boring). Bob Dylan whose lyrics were unrivalled and had a unique way of singing them (at least on record, some of his concerts have been disasters, no showman he!). Others mentioned above, like the Rolling Stones and Leonard Cohen will last a bit longer but not much more than the already mentioned 30 years. Some greats have even now gone. Where is Chicago and Blood, Sweat & Tears, two powerhouse bands?

You may have noticed that I haven't mentioned Jimi Hendrix. This is because, in my opinion, even though he was great in his day, he was not as good a guitarist as many seem to think. Clapton for one was better. I think he still lasts today through some diehards. Fair enough, I guess.

The one thing however that sort of bothers me about writing this article is the fear that I'm totally forgetting about somebody who deserves to be listed among the greats and he or she hasn't sprung to mind. Ah well!

So what is the future for some potential megastars who might be around today or tomorrow? I greatly fear that they won't get much of a chance as long as the music industry is being run by the businessmen who wouldn't know an A minor chord from a G string! Seriously, does anybody think that Simon Cowell would have put Bob Dylan through to the next round? Not on your nelly! As Zappa said many years ago, "no commercial potential". I think the rot started in the seventies when disco came pounding through our headphones. Punk was a non-music, most couldn't even play their instruments properly. Rave, rap and such are plain awful. The only people playing today who don't mime on stage are metal. So the future does not look bright. But I just hope there is some promoter still around who won't be afraid to take a chance on some new real talent. They are there, just hiding!