Showing posts with label We willed the thrill to never stop. Show all posts
Showing posts with label We willed the thrill to never stop. Show all posts

Thursday, December 8, 2016

Life Beyond Those Early Days

I wrote this a number of years ago. For a mouthy so-and-so, you'd think I might have found more words by now; but they stay stuck in my throat so these will have to do.

If I need more than a dozen words to explain the importance of John Lennon and the music he helped create, and the other music he made possible, I'm too old and you're too young to be having this conversation. And since, chronologically, I got here first, you'll have to leave. 


I was born the year Dwight David Eisenhower took the oath as President. Rock and roll was either very rhythm and blues oriented (and called 'race music') or was so white it glowed in the dark with melodies from the Brill Building professionals as sung by any fresh face who showed up at the auditions. Little Richard's originals such as Good Golly, Miss Molly were covered and eclipsed by a variety of white artists and never enjoyed the success on pop radio station airwaves they should have, but UK rockers had no way of knowing that. 

People like Sam Phillips and Sun Records helped change all that with Jerry Lee Lewis, Carl Perkins, Johnny Cash and (of course) Elvis Presley. The seismic shock Elvis set off echoed half way across the world where tub thumpers, literally, who were part of something the British called skiffleattempted to emulate the American records they were hearing in the coffee bars and teen clubs.

The perspiring and aspiring musicians who spent hours trying to copy every chord change of every R&B song they heard had no idea that in the USA, the music to which they were so devoted had been co-opted to a large extent castrated by safe-as-houses imitators. Their world then was so different from our world now that words fail, which is why (perhaps) so many of us who came of age in The Sixties turned to music in the first place as a replacement for language.


If all you know of John Lennon is what you've read, you cannot imagine the electricity late night American Top 40 radio had when The Beatles were on. They built a bridge from the UK for every disaffected rocker to cross, and it mattered not if they could sing, Noel Harrison certainly couldn't, as long as they looked the part. 

The Liverpool lads stuck and stayed when so many others had faded away because they had talent and the ear of a generation who sought a voice while they, themselves, searched for the sound they had heard years earlier. They may have never realized they had become the object for which they searched-we on other hand never cared and embraced them as the Soundtrack of the World to Be. 

The Beatles 'broke big in America' in the aftermath of the murder of John F. Kennedy and I've never believed that was coincidence. They were the standard by which all other pop music was measured. It felt, for someone in his teens for much of their public career, that The Beatles had been around forever but when they went dark in 1970, they had been a chart presence for far less than a decade. 

Where there were four, only two are alive today. All of them spent, and continue to spend, their solo careers battling unreal expectations, measured by critics and fans alike against an impossible standard no one could match. With Lennon's murder thirty-six years ago, the death of the public John overshadowed the personal tragedy his two sons, Julian and Sean, as well as the pain and grief his wife, Yoko Ono, and his first spouse now deceased, Cynthia, felt and feel every day of their lives, but most especially today. 


It's tempting when revisiting history to forget it can just as easily be written as his story because in this case, the band mate, the father, the husband were all walk-ons in the Beatlemania movie Mark David Chapman so abruptly and completely ended all those years ago

For many who never knew the man, except through his music, today is a long day. There's little we can do except enjoy what he gave us while watching the wheels go round and wonder what might have been.
-bill kenny

Thursday, July 7, 2016

Before those Early Days

When you get old stuff sneaks up on you. Sometimes it does it in plain sight and between eye blinks. People and events happen and then unhappen before your very weary and bleary eyes. 

Most of the time, they don’t even need to have little cat’s feet with me; they can be wearing size 44 triple-e jump boots. Of course, with me being a self-absorbed obliviot I have a natural and automatic head start.

I’ve often joked (but I wasn’t really) that if The Beatles hadn’t invented rock and roll I would have had to do it or lose my sanity. I know they didn’t invent it, except for me with no older brothers or sisters, it sure felt like they did. And I've always believed me and my cohort were present at the creation

As for sanity, I have learned to surrender that along with the things of my youth, cool breezes, clean air, potable water, mercury-free swordfish steaks, belief in fair play and ethical behavior. It seems so long ago, mainly because it is.

Earlier this week, yesterday actually, it was fifty-nine years ago that John Lennon and Paul McCartney first met. I like to think of music from that moment on being like the call-to-arms chord that opens A Hard Day’s Night

Artful and awesome like nothing else you’d ever heard before or since. With an echo that stretches all the way from then to as far into the future as you can imagine we’ll ever have music. Forever and more.
-bill kenny 

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