I firmly believed that a part of what I loved about rock when I was a kid was how much it pissed-off my parents. The basic formula to getting a rise out of them pretty much went like this: 1) Put on the A side of The Rolling Stones’ album “Between The Buttons”; 2) Turn up the volume on my $18 record player as loud as it would go (back in those days hi-fis only went up to “10” on the potentiometer because Spinal Tap had yet to be invented); 3) Then just wait. The 1st track on that piece of delicious black vinyl was, of course, “Let’s Spend The Night Together”.
In 1967 that was pretty risqué subject matter to even speak about much less than sing about it. Usually within 60 seconds after the 1st refrain, either one, or both of my angry, red-faced parents would come barging into my room screaming “Turn that damn garbage off! And why do you have to play it so damn loud????” Simply, it was because I loved the attention. I was a kid for cripes sake. For most of us, that was one of the greatest allures of rock ‘n’ roll.
Rock music helped define our young personalities. At a time when we endeavored to break the bonds with our families in order to forge new ones outside our homes we used music as a way to cut the umbilical cord, just as many generations before us had done. It was a double edged sword that not only severed the ties that bond us but acted as a calling card to find others outside our genetic circle with similar interests. “Hey man, you like The Stones? Then I like you too, man!” Or something like that.
What I loved best about “Rock Connections” is it recognizes how important the polemic aspect of art is. True art not only polarizes and helps define the different tastes of the observer but also that of the artists and their contemporaries. Some of the most heartfelt revelations in the Macdonald/Dimery collaboration are how other musician’s music pissed each other off.
Of course on the other side of the coin are the stories of how other artists influenced and inspired each other, either directly or indirectly. Here lies the genius of the authors’ work. While I loved the snippy backstage gossip I most admired the way the writer connected the dots, After all, if there hadn’t been Elvis there wouldn’t have been the Beatles and if not for The Beatles you wouldn’t have had The Stones and so on and so forth – same as it ever was…
Stones front man Mick Jagger complained about Aerosmith as being, “…just rubbish…” and that their front man, Steven Tyler was, “…impersonating me…” While Patti Smith gushed on about Jagger and his mates for being, “Five lusty images (who) gave me my 1st glob of gooey in my virgin panties…” U2’s guitarist, The Edge admits that when he’d play Patti Smith records for friends, some claimed, “…it actually made them want to throw up…” But R.E.M.’s Michael Stipe reminisced that as a 15 year-old American middle-class white boy hearing her was like, “…the 1st time you went into the ocean and got knocked down by a wave… I sat up all night with a huge bowl of cherries listening to Patti Smith and going, ‘Oh my God!’…Then I was sick.”
Within the 288 pages of “Rock Connections” there are various ‘facts’ I disagree with. For example, Macdonald wrote that the Beach Boys “I Get Around” hit the U.S. charts at No. 1 on July 4th, 1972, when it was 1964. But there are bound to be debatable details that enthusiastic ethnomusicologist such as he and I would disagree on. After all, so much of this took place years before today’s overly ubiquitous mobile recording devices became an annoying necessity.
Dimery and Macdonald more than make up for these minor inaccuracies when they recall rare antidotes from the likes of the earliest incarnation of Black Sabbath about how they used to rehearse across the street from a movie theater and one of them mused, “Isn’t it weird how people like to go to the movies and get scared? Why don’t we start making music that scares people?” In my arrogant opinion, this was the essence of the heavy metal manifesto in less than 25 words.
Now it’s time for a few words of warning. “Rock Connections” is not a ‘read-on-the-beach’ novel. It’s more like a text book with tons of information, diagrams and cross references. It doesn’t just dwell on where rock came from but where it went and where it is today. If you are truly not just a casual music fan but an absolute frantic fanatic then this is a ‘must read’. If you’re someone who’s a compulsive communicator (like the earliest people who painted on their cave walls) and are already performing music or about to form a band or take your stand on a stage all alone, then this should surely be ‘mandatory reading’. Finally, because of the spirit in which this book was written, and personally as a veteran of the music industry, to those of you who are about to rock: “We salute you – rock on our noisy children of the night. Let’em know you’re there. Then pass it forward!”
