Saturday, July 1, 2017

The Hotel Child: God, Big Sis and Rock 'n' Roll

The Byrds on th' 1960's black 'n' white teevee.  That's Roger McGuinn on the right playing the Rickenbacker guitar.

By Grant McGee

  I, um...
  I don't quite know where to start.
  I just learned something that shook the underpinnings of my rock 'n' roll sensibilities.
  The actual members of The Byrds did NOT perform on their big debut single "Mr. Tambourine Man" back in 1965.
  Nope.
  There were professional studio musicians hanging with Roger McGuinn of The Byrds, knocking the single out in tight fashion so there were no mistakes and the record company could get it knocked out, on the radio and in stores right quick.
  Learning that Chris Hillman, David Crosby, Gene Clark and Michael Clarke weren't making music history with McGuinn for that big song has subtly altered my view of the world.
  It might be like if Jesus stuck his head out of the clouds and said, "Hey little buddies, you know that thing where they thought I was walking on water in the Sea of Galilee?  I was just strolling through the shallows."  Then if Moses stuck his head out right beside JC and said, “And y’all know those tablets?”  Sidebar comment:  Moses speaks with a Southern accent, just like other patriarchal-type dudes like The Lord Thy God and Uncle Sam.  Anyway, it’d be like if Moses stuck his head out right beside JC up there in the clouds and said, “Hey, y’all know those tablets.  I etched those in stone.  I was inspired by The Lord Thy God but it was me.
  I mean it would mess with your head a bit, wouldn’t it?
  I believed these rock 'n' roll stars were ALWAYS recording their own stuff in the studios.
  I learned this about “Mr. Tambourine Man” from hearing an interview about a documentary about the studio musicians who made the magic on the American music scene for years, particularly the ‘60’s… The Wrecking Crew.
  Here I'd been lambasting the American music scene for a long time, probably since the music generally began to sound like pre-processed homogenized pasteurized pabulum in the 1980's when it turns out a goodly portion of the stuff hadn't been "real" for years.
  Oh well.
  Thing is every time I think of The Byrds I think of a few of their songs I've dug over time.  There's "I'll Feel a Whole Lot Better" from 1965 with what I think is the world's greatest 12-string guitar solo in the middle.  There's "So You Want to be a Rock 'n' Roll Star" with its driving beat. 
   "Wasn't Born to Follow" was a hippie tune used in the soundtrack to the movie "Easy Rider."  Imagine my surprise when I found out that was written by Carole King who had written a bunch of crap for bubble-gummy Top 40 radio and Neil Sedaka back in the early '60's.
  And then I remember "Turn, Turn, Turn."  This was a song written by Pete Seeger and given the folk-rock treatment by McGuinn and The Byrds.  Now they actually DID record "Turn, Turn, Turn" and not The Wrecking Crew.  The difference was it reportedly took 77 takes for McGuinn and company to get "Turn, Turn, Turn" just right while it took McGuinn and The Wrecking Crew just one take to knock out "Mr. Tambourine Man."
  If you don't know the lyrics to "Turn, Turn, Turn" it's pretty simple...the lyrics are in The Good Book, that's "moun-tayne" speak for The Holy Bible."
  It's in the book of Ecclesiastes...chapter 3, verses1 through 8:
  "There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens:
  A time to be born and a time to die,
  A time to plant and a time to uproot,
  A time to kill and a time to heal,
  A time to tear down and a time to build,
  A time to weep and a time to laugh,
  A time to mourn and a time to dance,
  A time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,
  A time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing,
  A time to search and a time to give up,
  A time to keep and a time to throw away,
  A time to tear and a time to mend,
  A time to be silent and a time to speak,
  A time to love and a time to hate,
  A time for war and a time for peace."
  And so Pete Seeger set the Bible verse to music.  A few years later The Byrds grabbed it and ran with it all the way to the top of the charts in December 1965.
  It was on the radio as the Vietnam War was ramping up.
  And it was on the charts while my big sister was in high school.
  She had the 45 rpm record.
  I was just a dumb kid.
  I wasn't even 10 yet.  All I knew about Vietnam is that Walter Cronkite was talking about it every night on the evening news.
  All I knew about "Turn, Turn, Turn" was that it was a song on the radio.
  But I also knew my sister had the 45 rpm record.
  But all I really knew was that my sister had a song that they were playing on the radio.
  And she was playing it on the family's hi-fi stereo one evening when my dad came home from work.
  "GET THAT CRAP OFF MY STEREO," he bellowed.
  Let me introduce you to my dad.
  His career field was hotel management in the mid-20th century so when he came home in the evening he was wearing a well pressed three-piece suit and tie.
  He would generally come home, change into some relaxing clothes, settle down in the master bedroom in an easy chair and watch the evening news whilst enjoying a martini…or two…or three.
  But this night things were different.
  My father, who I thought was God because he was always yelling and making pronouncements on stuff, was bellowing.
  And when he bellowed I got out of the way like critters scatter when people come walking in their domain.
  "GET THAT CRAP OFF MY STEREO."
  Sidebar comment:  It would be years later that I would discover, while listening to The Who on my dad’s stereo, that dad's stereo was not a stereo at all, it was basically a glorified, one-channel record player.  He was either mistaken or got ripped off.
  Big Sis had been listening to the song on the stereo.  She came running in from her room and stood right in front of dad with her arms crossed.
  I peeked from behind the sofa.
  "I SAID GET THAT CRAP OFF MY STEREO," he said, jabbing his index finger in the direction of the hi-fi.
  "I'm listening to it," said Big Sis.  "I'll turn it down."
  And she did.
  "THAT MUSIC IS PURE CRAP," he bellowed some more.  "AND I'LL NOT HAVE ANTI-WAR, ANTI-AMERICAN MUSIC PLAYED IN MY HOME."
  "How is this anti-American?" asked my sister.
  I watched in amazement.
  I didn't know anyone could talk back to God.
  "Besides," she went on, "The lyrics are straight from the book of Ecclesiastes in The Old Testament."
  "THAT'S SACRELIGIOUS," said my father.
  "Why is this sacreligious?" asked Big Sis.
  "BECAUSE IT IS," said dad.
  And with a wave of his hand to signify he was done talking he turned, walked down the hall to the master bedroom and slammed the door behind him.
  The song ended.
  Big Sis walked over and turned off the stereo and went back to her room.
  If I was a few years older I would have come from behind the sofa and patted her on the back and said, "DAMN, I didn't know you could talk back to God!"
  But I wasn't a few years older, I was just a kid.
  And all I knew was that my sister had talked back to dad.
  And that was an amazing thing.

                                                       -30-

No comments:

Post a Comment