Saturday, June 1, 2013

Some Things To Take Your Mind Off The Weather.

New John Fogerty review by Maura Johnson (A One and half star rating)

John Fogerty, 'Wrote a Song for Everyone'
Our rating: * 1/2

The former Creedence Clearwater Revival leader revisits his back catalog on his ninth solo album, and he's assisted by marquee names who probably sang along to "Bad Moon Rising" in a car once: Miranda Lambert, Brad Paisley, Dawes, My Morning Jacket. But the result is one of those albums that's pretty much unnecessary to anyone who isn't involved in Fogerty's business affairs; Fogerty's voice sounds strained, and more disappointingly, the reworks are superfluous — particularly Jennifer Hudson paying tribute to her "American Idol" launchpad by lifelessly taking on "Proud Mary." One listen to the sludgy, Kid Rock-assisted "Born on the Bayou," which sounds like the product of an overzealous if practice-deficient bar band, will have anyone who knows of the original racing back to it at top speed. - M.J. 

Personally, I'm not buying the new Fogerty album.  I'll stick with the originals.  My grade is a C Plus
For Scott Wieland life goes on since Stone Temple Pilots replaced him with Chester Bennington of Linkin Park but Scott took his rock and roll show to a casino in Phoenix.  Barbara VenDenburgh gives you her view of the show.

There’s no telling what you’re paying for when you see Scott Weiland perform live. There’s especially no telling what’s in store mere months after Stone Temple Pilots, the ’90s grunge juggernaut Weiland founded nearly three decades ago, tersely fired the singer through their publicist with the one-line release: “Stone Temple Pilots have announced they have officially terminated Scott Weiland.” Since then, his bandmates have made good on their threat by filing a lawsuit against Weiland and replacing him with Linkin Park frontman Chester Bennington.

So there were even more questions than usual going into Weiland’s show Friday, May 31, at Talking Stick Resort, where the mercurial front man performed with a new band as Scott Weiland & the Wildabouts. Had Stone Temple Pilots been right to fire him? Had Weiland’s notorious history of substance abuse been a factor in his dismissal? Could the dude even make it through an entire set?

Important questions. I’ll get to those, but first I want to know: Who gave Scott Weiland a theremin, and why? Because whatever demons Weiland, 45, is still grappling with, none of them inflicted quite as much damage as the persistent sound of the universe’s most annoying flying saucer that can’t figure out how to land.

The night kicked off with a slightly ominous feeling as the house lights and music cut out at 8:30 p.m. and the audience waited an awkwardly long time in the dark for anything to happen on stage. Clapping started, then stopped. “You can do it!” somebody yelled, which was met with nervous laughter. Musicians shuffled on stage and silently tended to their instruments for a few minutes until finally, with no fanfare, Weiland appeared, a paper coffee cup in one hand and a cigarette in the other.

The group launched into a dull, overlong jam session that mostly had Weiland facing away from the audience at the rear of the stage as he fiddled with his theremin. But when he turned to face the crowd for “Crackerman,” trademark megaphone in hand, Weiland looked sharp in a black suit and tie and large aviator sunglasses.

That song kicked off a nostalgic night that hewed close to the beloved and time-worn tunes from 1992’s “Core” and 1994’s “Purple,” the mega-selling albums that cemented Stone Temple Pilots’ legacy. A rousing “Wicked Garden” came next, delighting the crowd from the opening licks.

Weiland sounded good on those early Stone Temple Pilots tracks — his voice definitely shows the wear and tear that comes with age and a rock star’s lifestyle, which wasn’t a problem with the more aggressive, shout-heavy songs. But it was a liability on slower songs; his voice was reedy and strained on a dark, loungy take on “Meatplow.”

“Atlanta” suffered from pitchy vocals, and was the most unfocused song of the night, spiraling into a neverending jam session, Weiland prancing around the stage in a weird little leprechaun jig at odds with the song’s dreamy vibe.

It was largely forgotten after the one-two punch of “Interstate Love Song” and “Vasoline.” There’s no pit area in Talking Stick Resort’s showroom, but that didn’t stop fans from crowding the front of the stage and forming an impromptu pit.

It was an uneven night. The band played capably (and can seemingly put up with Weiland’s shenanigans), but the Wildabouts are no replacement for Stone Temple Pilots, often having the plastic sound of an STP cover band. Weiland was at his strongest flaunting his rock-star charisma on his certifiable grunge classics, but also sounded good doing his best David Bowie impression on a cover of “The Jean Genie.”

Less successful was the slightly silly cover of the Doors’ “L.A. Woman” that launched the encore, with Weiland wearing an overlarge beanie while affecting a growling Jim Morrison-esque mumble; the keyboardist had one pining for the recently departed Ray Manzarek.

And what did Weiland have to say about all the behind-the-scenes Stone Temple Pilots drama? Not much. “With all the ridiculous bull(expletive) that’s been going on,” Weiland said, “I haven’t focused on it in a negative way. I’ve been focused on the music.”

And if he felt any bitterness about performing for several hundred people in a casino showroom instead of the sold-out stadiums of yore, he didn’t show it. Weiland seemed happy to be there, frequently pausing to high-five and fist bump fans; by the show’s end, he’d shaken hands with everyone in the front row.
It wasn’t all a love fest, though. There were some boos, albeit for an unexpected reason. Weiland paused mid-set to tell a rambling story about a guitar-playing California surfer friend of his in the ’80s, and how the two of them would spend long afternoons jamming and smoking pot to Pink Floyd. “Since then, I have not liked marijuana,” he said, segueing into an anti-pot diatribe. “Hate it! Sorry!” he said, responding to the boos.

So there’s one demon you can cross off Weiland’s list.

1. Opening Jam
2. “Crackerman”
3. “Wicked Garden”
4. “Paralysis”
5. “Meatplow”
6. “Creep”
7. “The Jean Genie” (David Bowie cover)
8. “Kitchenware & Candy Bars”
9. “Where the River Goes”
10. “Atlanta”
11. “Can’t Stand Me Now” (Libertines cover)
12. “Interstate Love Song”
13. “Vasoline”
14. “Dead & Bloated”
15. “Still Remains


16. “L.A. Woman” (Doors cover)
17. “Unglued”
Crabby's ratings were 2nd best with help from you know who. Take a good look at one of the blogs in the top ten.  And they still continue to read it.  Free online casino joints suck.  And it's in 3rd place of all time viewed blogs here. Do they ever read these things?  Hell no.

Twixt Town Drive-In in Marion, Iowa: ad from the Cedar Rapids Gazette 9/11/1970


Alice In Chains-The Devil Put Dinosaurs Here (Capitol/Universal)

This seems to have more in common with Boggy Depot than Black Gives Way To Blue since Jerry Cantrell has his vocals and guitars out there and William DuVall still doing Layne Staley proud although he only wrote one new song for this album.  Nothing wrong with that and Alice In Chains still has that 1992 grunge sound down pat although the record goes on too long (an hour and seven minutes long). Starts out roaring with Hollow (hit single) and Pretty Done.  But as the album and songs continue to bleed on, there seems to be a feeling of content that they're not breaking any new ground but the second half of songs, most over five minutes reminds me of a slow moving train, great to watch but after a while you wish it would hurry up and get done.  Not that Devil Put Dinosaurs Here is that bad, it's a worthy followup to the surprisingly great Black Gives Way To Blue.   It basically for me wears out its welcome toward the end.  But if you like your music like it's 1992, you will enjoy this, but in the end it won't replace Dirt as a go to album.

Grade C

I Picks: Hollow,  Low Ceiling

Back to the weather (I lied imagine that).  The Cedar River crested at 18.23 feet today and the New Bo district was spared. But the late spring spring hasn't been much  we're wondering where the hell the sun is hiding at. Allergies are bothering me and that gnat cloud gets bigger each day.  Even though the weatherman continues to say no rain, we ended up getting another fucking rain storm Saturday night which means I have to change the damn towels keeping my car dry again.


The El Reno/OKC Twister Terrors of 5/31/13 were even more scarier than the Moore and Shawnee twisters of a couple weeks ago with 10 people losing their lives, including three storm researchers doing their job but this monster twister turned on them and blew them off the road.  Tim Samaras his son, Paul and Carl Young all perished in the quick change of this monster storm.   But the big complaint seems to be the pleasure seeking storm chasers that somehow clogged up the interstate coming from bored newscorporations that have seemed to got bored with that idiot couple in Scottsdale and their crappy restaurant or Obamacare.   Somehow there was a panic going on down there where a TV station told people to get out of town when they should have stayed indoors or in a tornado shelter.  The El Reno tornado was a combination at least three or four of them forming in different areas and I doubt that thousands upon thousands of storm chasers were clogging up the roads.  Wrong place at the wrong time even more when your trying to out run a F5 twister and get swept up by the winds.

Ask the Weather Channel on that, their storm chasing car got flatten as a pancake but luckily the guys survived.  But I'm sure whatever you see from You Tube is not thrill seeking chasers saying OMG every five seconds but rather look at it as research and witness the power of the dancing devils dancing madly counter clockwise in a rage of fits and hope that you never witness it up close and personal.


EDITH, GET ME A BEER!...Coming Archie!  RIP Jean Stapleton :(

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