Ghetto Priest

Ghetto Priest

They Call I Black

At the age of 33 years I arrived at a point in my life where the psychological illusion of 
a safety net that I had created or implanted in my mind pertaining to family, culture, society, religion and environment was stripped down to its bare bones. This mini album is a testimony to my 33 years on the planet earth

-          Ghetto Priest

Ghetto Priest is an artist that hit his stride with Adrian Sherwood’s the On-U Sound back in the ‘90’s. He cut his teeth as singer and percussionist for African Head Charge and by 2004 he cut his first album for the label entitled Vulture Culture. Later that year he teamed up Scottish artist Graham Fagen for a remake of Robert burns song “The Slaves Lament.” He even found time to hook up with activist dub-punks Asian Dub Foundation and appear on Fortress Europe from their Enemy of the Enemy album. He went on to front their exciting stage shows for the next four years. He has released several singles including Dungeon, A Long Way, Armageddon and the lion Of Judah Hath Prevailed. He has recorded with The Process, Detroit’s own iconoclastic reggae punks. This is Ghetto Priest’s Sermon on the Mount and the six songs on this disc are the beatitudes. Listen

Wrapped in Prophecy

This is a genre blending musical score that pushes boundaries. Despite the sometimes preachy vibe, this song is about feeling happy and finding bliss. The synthesized backdrop colors the song with a dream-like quality that seems like an alien dissociated state in which the normal processes of consciousness and memory are suspended. Ghetto Priest sings in low conversational tones as if he’s in the kitchen sharing a cuppa with a friend and confiding his most intimate thoughts, despite the title and the low-fi production, this is music for the masses. It has a cool cross-over appeal even with some of its more preachy tones. It is music with a transcendent message:

 I feel there’s somewhere else wrapped in prophecy   
You see the light only twice
Once when you are 
Once when you die

Ghetto Priest is clearly embracing an almost universal spiritual precept of the meek inheriting the earth as when Jesus names a group of people normally thought to be unfortunate and He pronounces them blessed.

Open Up (Let Your Light Shine)

Ghetto Priest sings about spirituality, redemption and Judgment Day with a minimalist backing  with just light percussion and synthesized accents, Ghetto Priests honey glazed vocals colors the song with a sense of warmth and intimacy. The listener joins in with the singer and they are one. He lulls the listener into complete and total submission.  Like a love junkie that never has enough, you cannot stop asking for more. He’s so quiet and unassuming, you have an urge to stop, quiet your mind and really listen. His lyrics are about courage and redemption:

Don’t give up  
Never say die  
Seek and you shall find
Let your mind fly
touch the stars 
Life keeps moving on
Don’t lose your faith
Slow down the pace

The Devil & The Deep Blue Sea

This is an extraordinary beautiful ballad, a substantial piece of music that can stand on its own merits. It opens with a lonesome acoustic guitar playing a minor chord, a swoosh of a cymbal roll and Ghetto Priest’s winsome “oooh”. There is a musical economy that provides space for the instruments and vocals to co-exist peacefully.  He sings:

I wonder if good can conquer evil
could we ever be free
Down on my knees
Caught between the devil & the deep blue sea
asking for forgiveness for all our sins

This is a breezy pop song with a message. It has hooks galore, melody and a great lead vocal.

It could be a radio hit!

Bruised is a genre hopping master piece. A reggae infused declaration of courage against all odds. The verse is pure reggae bliss:

I’m bruised but I’m fighting
I’m blind but I can feel
every tumble I take
is making me stronger

The bridge includes a jangly guitar riff and a 2/4 beat:

When you tell me it’s alright
Nothing will break me down
If you need me I’ll be around
a shoulder to lean on 
When you hold me in your arms
There’s no doubt in my mind   
Everything’s gonna be alright

Ghetto Priest moves skillfully from reggae to pop without missing a beat. He even throws in some primitive Dylanesque harp as a means of tipping his hat to the master, a kindred soul whose music and lyrics created the soundtrack  for the sixties peace movement.

The Time Has Come is another genre defying song. It is a statement of change and rebellion and  love and freedom. This is an historical declaration that is centuries old but had its most recent incarnation in in 1967 as it flowered and overflowed in Laurel Canyon where the ideas about freedom, peace and love were embraced in San Francisco and elsewhere.  Ghetto Priest sings it cool and low and the harmony vocals by the ladies gives the chorus a boost. The swirling synthesizer blips and grumbles and helps define the overall sound. The percussion is muted but the rhythm of the guitars helps keep the time.

The lyrics tell the story:

The time has come
when we can sail into the ocean
we felt no fear and no regrets
the time has come
we can hold hands together
and march to the promised land

The Devil & the Deep Blue Sea (dub edit)

              The swoosh of the synthesizer colors the dub edit of this incredible musical statement. The prominent echo gives Ghetto Priest’s vocals a heavenly tone and hue. He sings beautifully. This is a stone masterpiece that deserves a wider audience. This is a fully realized song that goes beyond simple craft to a soulful exploration of musical blending and boundaries. His lush tenor sounds a bit like Usher which may convince a younger fan base to sit up and take notice . From the musical execution to the lyrical brilliance, Ghetto Priest is on the cusp of something much bigger. This should be the vehicle to greater notoriety. Keep on!                                                                                                                            

 Continental

The Death of a Garage Band

Life is constantly evolving and so is music.   The memories will always remain.The future will always hold endless possibilities. So we move on now. Still a garage band in spirit.  Still carrying the Torch –

Rick Barton                                                                                                                                                        

Rick Barton was the original guitarist for the Dropkick Murphys from 1996 to 1999. He performed on several EPs as well as full length discs Do or Die and The Gang’s All Here. After that initial success, Barton backed away from the scene for a few years before jumping back in with both feet to form Continental in 2009. In a curious twist of fate Barton’s son listened to a rough version of  a song entitled Curious Spell and then encouraged his father to put a band together and get back on the road.  Barton was ready to go and felt that that he could help his son pay some dues and learn what it’s like to be touring musician. The road can be a harsh mistress as well as forgiving headmaster. This is a story of fathers and son; a search for the holy in the den of the profane.  Death of a Garage Band is the perfect name for the disc. Barton plays it rough and ready without overdubs. He doesn’t do pretty. This is a whiskey drenched soliloquy from a man who knows the truth. This is one of the gutsiest musical documents along with Modern Times by Dylan or Johnny Cash’s work with Rick Rubin.

Life is Just One Hard Broken Dream

Despite the overt pessimism in the title, Barton paints this song with subtle strokes that conveys a bit of Mose Allison irony. He sings it like a pissed off Steve Earle shouting about the FCC and the CIA and making it with Condoleezza Rice. Barton hasn’t lost a step. This is the real deal from a working class musician who creates honest music. This is a supersonic high speed punk rocker with a touch of roots rockabilly. He keeps up the harrowing tempo right through to the coda.

C’mon baby let me hold you

Wrecking Ball

This song opens with several bars of just Barton and his acoustic guitar. He sings about waking up on the wrong side of the bed and it is a downer for sure. The tempo picks up and Barton bangs out the chords like Green day before they got famous and pretty. The drummer is rock solid and pounds out the beat with atomic powered lightning strokes. The chorus is repeated several times just so you don’t miss it. She’s got 99 reasons to leave. There is a brief accapella vocal, don’t bring out the wrecking ball followed by a neat little bass to E-string riff with impeccable stop & go timing. Barton shouts out, “Let’s Go!” and the song slams shut with 99 reasons to leave. WHEW!

Monday Morning

The song begins soft and quiet , with a nice melodic touch then gets loud and frantic  as Barton spits out the lyrics like he’s choking with anger. He has the voice of the everyman but has an otherworldly banshee scream when he spits out the lyric, “You know it isn’t true.”  This is a breakup song yet Barton is more than a little ambivalent;

I called you up Monday Morning
To say that we’re through
Thought about it for the weekend  
And how much I’d miss you
It’s a strange situation  to 
wake up with someone new

It sounds a bit like a booze-soaked vision but it comes off a little like hedging on a bet. He’s holding a deuce but acting like he’s got an ace in the hole. He’s playing  for keeps with nothing to back it up. He wonders if he should fold or continue the bluff.

No Reservations

Barton may be middle-aged but he shows no signs of slowing down. Performing with his son must be energizing, fulfilling. Now he can give his son a real education, the wisdom of the ages and a glimpse of why he’s been hard or soft, remote and loving. Now Barton’s heart is wide open as he tells a story of fathers and sons. The band is tight and Barton’s guitar is a machine gun. The lightning riffs help define the message. It’s an honest take no prisoners approach to hard drivin’ punk rock reminiscent of the music the MC5 and Stooges created in the late sixties.  Rick Barton is unable to fake sincerity. He’s not cut from that cloth. He’s growing old but he will make things right with his son, the people he loves. This is a heartfelt treatise on living by the eight fold path through love and integrity.

Great Big Sun

The sweet melodic guitar trills at the beginning opens a lyrical path a wistful longing for…acceptance, normalcy or even steady income. But this is a life of a touring musician who also creates and records new music. Barton references the public’s preoccupation with passing fads, some forgotten. He could be talking about  popular music – big band, blues, jazz, rock, punk have all had their time in the spotlight; all fell from mass popularity only to resurface in small pockets across the globe. The verses speak of honest home grown values

We can build a house

we can plant some seeds

we make the neighborhood just a little bit more green

we carve our names in the tree out back 

we can live together in our tiny little shack

The shouted chorus says it all:

WE LOVE HOW WE LIVE
NO ONE CAN SAY WE’RE WRONG

….CAN’T SAY WE’RE WRONG

Truth

This is Barton chiding his friends/fans/lovers about truth and integrity even when it hurts his relationships. It could be about anyone or everyone, even be his old chums in the Dropkick Murphy’s. Barton has a fine radar for bullshit. He admits to his own wrongdoing and vows to change. It took him over three years to bring it back around and form Continental. The lyrics have some venom:

It’s all black or white to me  
I don’t know what the hell it means
Now you took my picture off the wall 
didn’t know you had me up there at all

Stay with Me

This is a hard rockin punk song a middle eight that has a musical structure similar to NRBQ’s  C’Mon Everybody and buddy holly’s Not Fade Away…only speeded up and punk’d. Barton’s guitar work is simply inspired. He kicks it in with incredibly nimble fingering and a great tone. He’s playing like Dave Edmunds whacked out on speed and nailing Sabre Dance like he’s the reincarnation of Khachaturian whacked out on the juice. This may be the hardest rocking track on then disc. This is a high volume, speeded up feedback-soaked masterpiece.  Barton sings from the heart

Help me now I’ve come undone 
lived all my life under our hot sun
I’ve been told this night ‘s about to come
I’ve pulled the trigger on this loaded gun

Don’t leave me now  
Stay with me
Don’t leave me now

A great closer.

A Great New CD By Brody & The Busch Rd Trio

Brody & the Busch Road Trio

We’re Just Visiting

Brody and his band are maturing artists with a definite vision for their evolving craft. They are flexing their musical muscle like a tri-athlete looking for the gold. They are full of energy and ideas and are testing the outer limits of their endurance. They are pushing back at a tawdry scene that’s teetering at the abyss, throwing a lifeline to music and art and reeling it all back in to the mother ship. This is an incredible body of work, honest and bold. Brody and the Busch Rd Trio are not hesitant to sing about truth and live with the consequences. This  is a pure triumph,  one of the best discs of the year. Take a listen

Stay is an introspective piece that recalls Michael Stipe in his early days with REM. Brody has a mic friendly voice with just enough quiver and nuance to show his vulnerability and make it his own. The basic premise is love and loneliness and the musical backdrop supports the breadth of emotional expression. The music segues from quiet to loud to match the emotions expressed by the singer.  Brody’s voice rises and the tempo picks up. A fuzz-tone slide adds a little punch to the despair in the lyric. The guitar work is incredible. Burk plays it like ringing a bell, loud yet melodic.

She left me in the sad mid-morning 
With nothing but the cup of coffee I was holding 
Said she’d get back to me someday 
The fog lifted slowly I prayed for rain 
Dark cloudy skies to conceal my pain 
But the rain washed them all away 
What to do now but go back inside 
Curse the bed where we lied and cry 
Babe why don’t you stay

Murphy Lake Road Interlude

Opens with Jangly guitar and a marching beat right outta Sousa. The guitarist plays some big fat notes and gives the song a great hook. Brody spits out the words like venom from a snake bite. His rapid fire gunshot vocals have a husky Jack Daniels on a Friday night when you stay just a little too long and you wake up with a headache and your underwear down at your ankles and you wonder when she left and what you did to her. At this point Burk heats up the guitar until it gets louder and louder until the distortion and feedback almost hurts. The discordance is a statement . The song ends with the guitarist striking a loud sustained open chord .

Me and Marie used to ride down Murphy Lk. Rd. in my old Caprice

Cooler in the back Seger and Springsteen in the summertime

She’d smile and take the wheel while I lit my cigarette

When the stars came out we’d lie on the hood and plan out our lives

She used to sing to me I’d write poetry

She’d smile and say hey that’s beautiful

I’d say hey babe it’s all about you

You don’t know what I go through

Every time you walk into a room

Juliet’s Got the Blues

This is a stoned rootsy earth anthem with a flavor of dylanesque harp and a slurry laconic vocal perfect for the sedative/hypnotic crowd. The drummer has a strong backbeat and provides some neat syncopation to breaks through the bluesy self-absorption of the protagonist. This title would fit neatly into the Mumford & Sons catalog if Brody would only curse more often and portray the confidence and sensibility of a drunkard or longshoreman. Still, all-in-all this is a love song that didn’t work out too well. She didn’t buy it and he felt the sting. The echoed guitar riff comes in to the mix like a choir of bagpipes. It’s like a banshee howl, a cry of despair - great song!

I finally gone and lost her for good this time

I write a letter everyday, but she won’t change her mind

Can’t recall what I did wrong Lord send me a sign

I finally gone and lost her for good this time

She said she’d love me for the rest of my life

I lost my poor children and I can’t find my wife

Forgive me my mistakes Lord I swear I’ll make em right

She said she’d love me for the rest of my life

Can’t Burn Vern

This is a hats off to Dave Grohl’s hats off to Kurt Cobain who begat the Foo Fighters who begat the saving of rock & roll through the ghost of the Red Hot Chili Peppers. The thrashing thunderous guitars provide the rhythmic overtone while the bass and drums give the bottom real depth. The guitarist has a melodic touch that pulls it all together. Brody’s powerful vocals give the message a clip on the chin like Ali teasing Frasier at the Thrilla on Manila. The guitarist rocks mercilessly at the coda, hitting the E-string like samurai. This is Brody’s cry for help; a scream for salvation. Brody sounds more like Anthony Kiedis on this cut. Another hard rockin’ gem – anyone for Californication?

The way you look right through me

Baby thought you knew me

But you were mistaken

Now the change is takin

Over I can’t be you

But I will remain true

So don’t try and change me

I am all I can be

 So see me

Through your blindness

Kill me

With your kindness

  
Give it Away

Is the perfect vehicle to highlight the band’s fine-tuned musicality. The song has some neat syncopation and a tricky hesitation on the third beat of the verse with a sustained chord on the chorus. The timing is razor sharp. These cats can play. The lyrics have a heavy irony. He can forget and forgive all but his own sins. He could be reeling from a broken heart or some other addiction

Help me back Lord, to this life 
I have lived no, I have died 
Tell me how they did it those who came before me 
Followed footsteps, I fell shortly 
Can’t give it away 
Give it away 
Can’t give it away 
No I can’t get it back now

TN

This is down home country folk with primitive harp layered over top signaling like a freight train. The drummer keeps it going with a solid syncopation. The economical country rock guitar and those tasty full bodied notes allows the song space to breathe. The acoustic guitar helps drive the rhythm.

Livin too fast can’t catch up walk, crawl or run

60 hours won’t fill my pockets just a back ache and a heart gone numb

90 miles an hour down that road but you’ll never finish 1^st

Don’t wanna get there anyhow rather go in reverse

Hey babe let’s move to the southland I hear it’s an easy going place

Slow down catch our breath and I finally get to see your face

Yeah we get a little time but we don’t get quality

I think I made up my mind what to you think about Tennessee

Cat in the Rain

The minor chord colors the musical canvas. The guitarist sustains the fuzz-toned riff and it sails above the music like a ghostly banshee wail. The unison low harmonies give body Brody’s REM vocal. He sings like he’s in a trance, as if he’s chanting a mantra that is embedded in the hurricane pain of love gone bad.

It’s raining outside won’t you let me in 
Take my boots off no mud on your carpet 
Won’t you lay me down in your bed 
Turn the lights out over my head 
My feet are cold, my clothes soaking wet 
It’s coming down too hard to light a cigarette 
I know you locked me out won’t you let me in

Full Frontal

This is a rage against the machine, the clicks and clacks of the star maker machinery that has rusted and withered and left musicians, songwriters and singer holding the bag. Nobody can make money through the arts when our society is unhealthy and we are frozen in fear with no hope to make the good fight. It may give artists and poets something to rail about but playing for nothing is not the answer. The guitarists descending line and the drummers pounding beat underscore the bands anger.  Burk plays more notes in two bars than Jimmy Page.  The decibel level is ear-splitting loud and right on the mark. The anger is palpable. More please…fight the power

Caught in the same monotonous refrain 
Doesn’t help to turn the dial 
You know what they’re trying to do play us for fools 
While we remain docile 
Bored impatient and pissed 
I want you to listen to this

Lady Breathless has a knockout hook that gallops along at a nice pace. The acoustic refrain and strummed elecrtic chord take a back seat to Brody’s up-front vocal. Love the big hook in the middle 8. The melodic foundation of the music is a perfect vehicle for this sensuous sonnet; an imperfect love song. This is Brody’s search for something more than moderate happiness

Lady I, I’ve been thinking our love’s seen better days

How can that be when we never gave it a chance in the first place

Tell me how it is after all these years we can still ignore

Our buried feelings tortured emotions that heart under the floor

Your crooked smile

Perfect complexion

Baby I can’t sleep

Angelic voice

Your soul’s reflection

Haunts me in my dreams

Drive Toward Me

The quiet/loud construction is another tip of the hat to Kobain and grunge. The drummer sets up the rhythm by riding the high hat and cymbals. By the second verse the drums and guitar join together and machine gun the tempo. There are several slick tempo changes in the song. The guitarist’s slide becomes a powerful statement and sets the pace for the driving beat on the bridge. It sounds like a plea for help

I wish we could find some common ground

Instead of falling and stalling and spinning around

I know now I’m stuck out here

Graying and fading and wasting the years

So this is what it’s like to be alive staring at life

See your face in a dusty mirror

Lord help me out I’m dying here

Room 221

A slowed-down tempo and foreboding minor key colors the musical landscape. The band takes on several tricky tempo shifts that help the music assert itself and gives Brody the platform to explore and expand his unique vocal blend of intonation, bent notes, breathing, sustained notes and moaned and garbled asides. This is an incredible prescient look at aging and necessary losses. Great song!

These old wrinkled hands

Used to hold so many plans

Too late to regret

Only got one vacation left

Now she’s dying here all alone

Dying here all alone

What Went Wrong

This is morality tale about making bad choices and the stranglehold of addiction. It is a death knell; a ringing warning. Beware, you never pick up that first glass of cider thinking you’ll get hooked. It can kill your soul.

Now my life is so empty

Just like all those bottles of whisky

No hope for me anymore

I think it’s time to settle the score

I choose the booze

Can’t Breathe

This is a pastoral sepia-toned ode to a devastating loss. The guitar is a virtual wall of pain. It sounds like a punch in the chest and a stranglehold on your throat. The pain takes his breath away. The tempo slows down, the music quiets and Brody sings from the heart. But he’s standing inside himself and feels all of it. The strummed chord at the end seems like an act of defiance. He knows he  will not wallow in sorrow forever.

Burned your picture erased your number

Sat outside with the rolling thunder

Beauty turned to ashes your voice is long gone

Just me and the raindrops falling till dawn

A Slice of Saginaw History

The State & Bay corridor has been a thriving business district since the late 1920's when the Koinis family built the Strand Barbecue Restaurant. It was immediately popular and helped anchor business development in the area including the Granger & Nitz Pharmacy, Rupprechts Grocery store, Shaler's Party Store (where Tony's Restaurant is now), Trudeau's Gas Station, and an apartment house right next door to the State & Bay Tavern (eventually renamed White’s Bar in the forties). Here’s a photo of an almost forgotten era in Saginaw History. You can clearly see the Strand at the far right of the photo. On the left is the Ice Cream Parlor that would become a rental house. The building that would become White’s Bar is not depicted but it would be just left of the Parlor. It was a cohesive business community; the owners and patrons mingled freely and were socially active in the State & Bay Bowling League. God save our village

Peace

Bo White

Here's a photo of a bygone era. You can clearly see the Strand at the very right of the photo. On the left is an Ice Cream Parlor that would become the rental house. The building that would become White's Bar is not in the photo but would be just to the left of the Ice Cream Parlor. It was a cohesive community that supported each others businesses and even met each other socially through the State & Bay Bowling League. God Save our Vil

 

n (now known as White's Bar). Here's a photo of a bygone era. You can clearly see the Strand at the very right of the photo. On the left is an Ice Cream Parlor that would become the rental house. The building that would become White's Bar is not in the photo but would be just to the left of the Ice Cream Parlor. It was a cohesive community that supported each others businesses and even met each other socially through the State & Bay Bowling League. God Save our Village

 

Nick Piazza

Only A Northern Thing

Nick Piazza is a transplanted Michigander, now residing in Texas. He hooked up with Andy Reed in 2009 to record his very first song, Summer Moon  - and he’s never looked back. He was bitten by the bug and got a major dose of rockin’ pneumonia and the boogie woogie flu. He completed Evolution, his first full CD, in May 2010 and continued to write and record the music for what became Only A Northern Thing. Piazza gathered together a cast of mid-Michigan’s musical aristocracy for the project and they jumped at the invitation. Andy Reed, Ray Torres, Donny Brown, Jeff Wiles and James Piazza contributed their incredible talent and vision to the recording sessions. This is certainly a triumphant musical reunion for our home grown singer/songwriter. A true believer.

Downtown Woman is good old fashioned rock & roll with a big backbeat and solid guitar work mixed back in the groove. Piazza’s slender tenor is ready willing and able. He sounds like Gerry Rafferty after he took a fistful of black beauties after a two day bender of rock & roll, booze and broads only without the attitude. The background vocals are exquisite and ray Torres guitar work is breathtaking.  Great track

Houston is a hot little rocker with Beach Boys harmonies and a big backbeat. This is dance music with hooks galore. It rocks hard but never loses its melodic sensibility thanks to super-producer and melody man Andy Reed. Piazza has a malleable voice and he sounds a bit like Alan Wilson (Canned Heat) going Up the Country. This song is smooth as silk yet it makes you want to smile and get up on the dance floor

Movin’ On  is an acoustic shuffle with plenty of energy and good vibes. There is sly reference to “Sexy Sadie” but with Reed onboard and twirling the dials you gotta know there will be at least one overt reference to the Beatles. Reed provides a melodic slide that brightens the sound and fills out some spaces in the musical landscape. There is an overarching sense of hope even as Piazza sings about struggling on his own. Movin’ On is what young adults do as a matter of course; a rite of passage. It doesn’t matter that there are problems wherever you go. You can buy the illusion of Southern California or the banshee death wail in Saginaw.

Traffic Jam opens up with truncated piano chords reminiscent of Nilsson’s Gotta Get Up. The lyrical line conveys a weary wisdom, discovery that life is not quite like it seems. Young men and women pick up and leave their roots behind. They follow the light of promise but the tunnel goes on forever like a black hole in the universe. And they never really live the dream. It doesn’t quite exist but it does; only it’s different. When they discover that the natural state for a thoughtful person is melancholia, there is nothing left to say.

On the Road. The jangly guitar washes over the song like Southern California sunshine. It creates an upbeat vibe despite the underlying loneliness in the lyrics. Piazza sings with a smile in his voice. It’s convincing to even when you’re stirred by his ambivalence. Underneath the good cheer are doubts that speak to his ennui;

I hitched a ride on a one way train

Never got a chance to tell you my name

It’s the same old story

Just a different day

Leaving Here: The moan of Reed’s slide guitar colors the song’s sense of resignation. Piazza is singing outside himself almost dissociated from his surroundings, He views the world from his own psychological window. Hope and despair co-mingle as he watches the world go by. He’s not afraid and he needs no friends. It’s as if he gets too close, he will lose himself and fall into the stasis of the status quo. They say goodbye; he says hello.

Working Man Blues: Opens with some tasty chops fired off like holy gunfire courtesy of guitar wizard Ray Torres with help from Saginaw’s rock & roll attorney Jim Piazza. This is old time boogie woogie rock & roll barbecue music. It sounds sweet and tasty. Piazza is singing his ass off and drummer extraordinaire Donny Brown (Verve Pipe, American Underdog) knocks it outta the park with his powerful backbeat. He keeps time like a water clock. Keep it flowing, brother. Another great track!

It’s Only a Northern Thing Opens with a half borrowed riff from Van “The Man” Morrison. It jumps and jives and so did Morrison only in all the fifty years he’s been performing onstage Van never smiled, not once. But Piazza does and his honey toned voice reflects his balance. He’s not a tortured artist and he would cut off his ear to make a statement like a love you, sorta. This is a rock & roll ballad about love and reminiscing. His lyrics are a dialectical delight; “I think with my heart because I’ve lost my mind” – Perfect.  Reed’s keyboard work is pure genius. The sounds ring and moan like an ancient mellotron used by the Moody Blues

Another Wasted Saturday: This is a standout track that hops and bops to a swinging rockabilly beat and a cool walking bassline. It has a tricky stop & go time and some tasty sax-on-the-beach courtesy of Jeff Wiles. Reed was able to sneak in another Beatle reference, the “shoo be-do-wop” background on the partially live version of Revolution from a 1968 promotional film. Reed creates a full and crisp sound in his studio and brings out the best in everyone.  The song itself is a sonic blast of perfection from the saxophone, guitar, bassline, and backbeat to Piazza’s singing and the background Beatles.

Last call is a sweet acoustic goodbye; A last farewell. Piazza is able to breathe life into his stories with a great sense of melody and harmony and his natural facility for pathos and irony. This is a hard won lyrical coming of age for Piazza - a perfect ending for a heartfelt piece of music created by the everyman.

 

Film Rerview : Louder Than Love

Louder Than Love

Hell’s Half Mile Film Fest

10/7/12

The State Theatre

This is a film that has gone places, it’s got legs and a lot of mile sand even more accolades. It’s been to Detroit, Chicago, Traverse City, Las Vegas, Ann Arbor, Nashville and the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame. Now it’s been to the jewel of Bay City, the legendary State Theatre. The modest turnout was no doubt due to it being on a Sunday evening near dusk. The director Tony D’Annunzio was missing in action having been called back to his day job covering the Detroit Tigers playoff games. It’s tough living a dream when you need to make a buck. There were a few folks in attendance that had actually attended shows at the Grande Ballroom. I was not part of that memory elite though I was able to brag to no one in particular that I did trek down to the East Town Theatre in 1970/71. It was located on the corner of Harper & Van Dyke, lovely neighborhood…for crime, dope, random hijinks and other high crimes and misdemeanors. I saw the Kinks (twice), the Rascals, Bob Seger, Steve Harley & the Cockney Rebel, Rita Coolidge and a few others.

We settled in and looked around at each other. Hmm, there were some old timers here for sure, those long-in-tooth sixty somethings like me but there was a good mix of other generations. I had an impulse to jump up and disavow any connection to those old farts but I just sat quietly. I didn’t have the gumption or energy to reveal how stupidly vainglorious I could be. All things considered the next two hours was one helluva roller coaster ride. The story was well paced and the rhythm of the images on screen kept me on the edge of my seat, wanting more. The audience seemed to be as one; a psychedelic protoplasm with a shared vision of a moment in time when life was fresh and new sounds were alerting our minds and bodies of another world. We were witness to a film that helped document an era of great music, sexual freedom, and political activism. Louder Than Love was able to capture the camaraderie of young people exploring an alternate life style. I was enthralled by the images portrayed in this historic film.  It can never be repeated

The story begins with a televised address by LBJ declaring a State of Emergency and scenes of Detroit engulfed in fire, a raging inferno that captured the rage of its forgotten residents. The year was 1967 and the riots had started. There was fire everywhere, looting, violence and police brutality. One young black man was asked why he didn’t torch the Grande Ballroom. His response was simple and direct, “we didn’t burn the Grande ‘cos they have music there, man.” Rock & Roll Music, the old chestnut by Dick Wagner & the Frost was the first song of a twenty song soundtrack that accompanied all those glorious images. There were period photographs, music and footage of live performances as well as current interviews with the musicians such as Roger Daltry (the Who), Wayne Kramer and Machine Gun Thompson (the Mc5), Dick Wagner (the Frost), Ted Nugent (The Amboy Dukes), John Sinclair, Alice Cooper and others.

Russ Gibb, a former school teacher, got the idea for the Grande after a trip to the West Coast where he met Bill Graham and visited the Fillmore West. The Byrds were playing that night and there was a psychedelic light show. It was truly an eye opener for the somewhat parochial Gibb. The music was too loud. Everything was wrong. But it was alive and real. Freedom of expression, alternate lifestyles and the incredible music co-existed in total harmony. He brought the Fillmore to Detroit and put his own stamp on it – thanks to the influences of John Sinclair, The Fifth Estate (alternate newspaper) and the counterculture that swirled around them. Before the Grande the only music you heard in Detroit was the symphony. The balance was changing like a runaway avalanche. It was vital but for only a short time 1966-70. John Sinclair developed an alternate community at Wayne State before moving to Ann Arbor. Sinclair explained (tongue-in-cheek but profoundly accurate and honest), “It was the only place for people to come and enjoy themselves. We were weirdos with long hair and we would listen to blues and jazz all the time. This was the only place to experience psychedelia except for San Francisco.”

It was also apparent that the war raging in Vietnam gave kids the idea that you might not be able to trust the government. Wayne Kramer honed in on the connections between love, sex and also thoughts and convictions. “It was part of Detroit’s industrial consciousness. We work hard; we play hard. The music rocked HARD. The Grande was the Petri dish.”

John  Sinclair gave credit where credit was due;

”Bob Seger’s Heavy Music - that is what Detroit is all about, Rob Tyner was a visionary, a genius.”  Sinclair picked the NMc5 for the Grande. They were the first band to play the Grande and the Last. They had a sheet of sound that signaled to Grande folks to march in the streets and get political. Music, art and politics were equal. The music was the pearls that held it together. It happened for the good of the world.”

For many the Grande was the Holy Grail. Everyone wanted to play there. The Who performed Tommy for the first time in America at the Grande. In an unexpected moment of truth, their road manager Tom Wright was offered a job managing the Grande. When Wright took the job, the Who thought he moved up, far surpassing them. Hell, the Who wanted to work for the Grande too! They had never seen such a responsive crowd that actually knew the lyrics to their somewhat obscure deep album cuts.

The Grande was a supercharged sensory overloaded environment with peculiar sights and sounds that promised every Dionysian delight this side of paradise. The music and light show were a pure psychedelic aphrodisiac. It was freedom without violence. Wayne Kramer put it perfectly,”There was no violence, just a lot of loving – it was sexy.”

Louder than Love: The Grande Ballroom Story is more than a movie. It is an historic document about a time and place that no longer exists. It is the soundtrack for a cultural zeitgeist in America that lasted for only a brief candle of time. It needs to be preserved. For Tony D’Annunzio, It was a labor of love. There was no guaranteed pay off or possibility of fame and notoriety. It is heartening to see a great movie that deserves the accolades given. It was lovingly directed and produced by Tony D’Annunzio and expertly edited by Karl Rausch. A great team

Before the Grande the only music you heard in Detroit was the symphony. The Grande is gone; the symphony’s still here. There is room for both. If only…

Peace

Bo White