Before Ticketmaster took over everything, there was Ticketron. I remember my mom getting some show tickets via Ticketron in the 80s. Of course, Ticketmaster ended up buying Ticketron. Whenever I see vintage concert posters with a Ticketron mention, I get a warm fuzzy feeling inside.
For those not from southern Ohio, Cincinnati Gardens no longer exists. The Bon Jovi "Wanted Dead or Alive" video features lots of concert shots inside the Gardens. Also, how about the fact that Blue Oyster Cult and Aerosmith tickets were $6 day of show in 1974? Wild.
Like anyone else, I read other sites. But I don’t post on them. Thing is, most of them are filled with junk: robo-replies, negative nellies, knuckle-dragging miscreants, etc. But I do read them.
Metal Sludge is a legend of the online world. Stevie Rachelle cut his teeth on the almost-made-it Tuff and then went on to launch the site. I often find his site to be funny. I occasionally find it to be a bit twee. But it is his site. He is living his life. And he shares it as he sees it, warts and all.
His recent post, much like his lengthy (though sporadic) discussions of Tuff’s not quite rise and not quite fall, caught my attention. And, to be honest, it hit like a punch. He does that occasionally. Closing in on Father’s Day, he wrote something so obviously honest that it would be odd if it didn’t have an impact on you.
Stevie likes to poke at people. He likes to take digs at those who don’t like being reminded they are human. Occasionally, he crosses a line or two. But this post reminds me that, like BBG!, there are sites out there that occasionally speak to everyone.
I never experienced Rachelle’s loss. But I did lose my dad during the pandemic, after a slow slide into dementia, where he eventually forgot how to eat. Imagine that? You forget how to do one of the most basic things in the world?!?! I arrived home the day after he passed. But I had seen him pre-pandemic. And, on that visit, he acknowledged my presence by saying (after I had gone out of the veteran’s home to have a smoke), “that guy is back.” I took that as my goodbye. And it was.
On my pandemic visit, we went to pick up his remains (things move quickly in a small town). The heft of the box we got with his ashes in it amazed me. But then I thought: this is dad. This is what remains. And now his remains are secure in a vessel in my Mom’s room, underneath a tree on their property, and also wherever the tides take him after we placed some of his ashes in the ebbs and flows of the Tiber in Rome last summer.
My dad was far from perfect, like Rachelle’s. But he raised me. He provided me with some lessons I will never, ever, forget. I will miss him until I die. And I think we owe all of our imperfect parents a debt of thanks.
Stevie, I was luckier than you. But I hear you all the same. Thanks for sharing.
I am slowly re-entering the real world. I was on vacation for a week and just now getting back into the groove of day-to-day life.
During my vacation, I watched the movie Bob Marley: One Love (Paramount, 2024). Since I’m a music fanatic, I typically love these biopics. The soundtrack was obviously great but the film was just okay for me.
Bob Marley was portrayed by actor Kingsley Ben-Adir and he did a good job in the role. My issue was more with the story itself – it felt like so many details of Marley’s life and rise to fame were missing. Flashbacks to Marley’s childhood and feelings of abandonment were confusing at times. It wasn’t always clear who each actor was portraying, either. Lashana Lynch portrayed Rita Marley and she probably delivered the most compelling performance of the film. Most of the actors are British, but some like Lynch do have actual Jamaican roots.
In being true to Marley’s Jamaican roots, the accents were heavy here. So much so that it was hard for me to make out some of the words in the dialogue – especially when there was fast talking or background noise.
The part of One Love I enjoyed the most were the scenes of Marley and The Wailers in the studio and elsewhere working on Exodus. The inner workings of Marley with the record label and eventual tour and success were interesting, if not the complete story. Because the movie starts in 1976 just before the attempted assassination of Marley, all the history of his works before that time are basically missing from the film. I guess it doesn’t matter, but that means One Love isn’t a true biopic in that regard. Still, it’s less than two hours and entertaining enough, especially for music lovers.
If you missed the subtitle, let me assure you that I am not going to be chatting about the abomination of the automobile world (though those in the know can email me if they want to hear about my near fatal experience driving a Fiat Panda in Italy last summer).
No, this is about Tony Iommi and Black Sabbath’s legacy. The guitar god has been going on a bit of a media blitz these days, no doubt because they finally released the Anno Domini 1989-1995, the Tony Martin-era box set. Heck, he even extends the courtesy to sit down with Martin and do respectful interviews (though they don’t seem like they will be going on vacation together anytime soon), after slagging him up and down in his otherwise decent autobiography, Iron Man.
Ah, the Martin-era of Sabbath. It was obviously a tough time for the brand. And clearly a tough time for the one guy who stuck it out and tried to hold things together. Sure, there were some bright spots. Eternal Idol (1987) wasn’t bad and isn’t in the box set because of contractual issues. There were also some other bright spots here and there. I still contend that “Black Moon Rising” off of Headless Cross (1989) is a near-perfect song. But it gets harder and harder to pick out the good stuff during the Martin-era. Granted, the guy has got great pipes, seems well-grounded (not in terms of electricity), and falls all over himself to stress that, if not for Sabbath, he likely would not have the career he has had. But, again, the bright spots? Even Geezer and Ward couldn’t stick around. Sure, Iommi had Bevan and even the (while cashing a check) glory of Cozy. But really, this was the fallow times. Dropped by labels. Chasing a reunion with Dio that did happen, and then promptly fell apart, with only Martin to answer the call for vox (again). Forbidden (1995)? You can’t shine a turd. And that turd, polished or not, falls on Iommi, not on all the umbrage he takes with Ernie C. That is too convenient, Tony (the guitar, not the vocals, guys). You were running this ship. And you ran it into the ground . . . until fate intervened, and you got the old band back together (I still remember seeing the ‘Sab Four’ at Ozzfest and worrying that Ward was going to pass out at his kit given his absolutely monstrous playing on a very hot day in SoCal). And then you got the other old band back together under a new, Sharon-proof, moniker. And then you got the old band back together again, until all of that had to stop as the wheels of time took their toll.
But here’s the thing: why don’t you go back and finally polish the two albums that you did before the Martin-era? Recently, you are again talking about Born Again (1983). Yes, please. While it still feels like a drunk decision made at a bar (which it was), I think it retains a “that is so crazy it might work” feel to it. Gillan’s pipes were still in full view. “Zero the Hero” and “Disturbing the Priest” absolutely slay, even with the muddier than muddy production. Some of the instrumental stuff is engaging. “Digital Bitch” hasn’t aged well and “Trashed” is still a fun-if-sloppy take on a real-world experience that happened during production. I even find charm in the cringe-inducing cover (EVIL BABY!!!) and the set that inspired the great take-down in This is Spinal Tap. And when you are done there, attempt to tighten up the other album that you wanted to be a solo effort, Seventh Star (featuring Tony Iommi, 1986). I mean, come on: it featured Glenn-effing-Hughes, who could still sing like an angel no matter what intoxicants were flowing through his veins as he continued to grow in, well, ‘stature’. While the quality of these songs varies, there are some truly haunting moments on this album. Go back and listen to “Danger Zone,” a song sung by a man that was clearly aware of what those lyrics might portend. One piece of advice though: don’t include any of the scraps that featured Ray Gillen live. A talented and troubled singer that should, based on how he put a number of people at risk, be made into an asterisk or a footnote. I get that some of you love his bluesy swagger. But potentially infecting women just so you can live out your (short-lived) rock star dreams is not cool.
One final note: it is nice that Ozzy wants to do at least one more show with Ward. And it was equally nice that you thought it was ‘nice idea.’ But you should have considered that when the last reunion was happening. You shouldn’t have slagged Ward and made him look like a problem. At that point, Ward wasn’t the weak link in the cash cow that was your final tour. And both of you know that. You could have offered him something that was respectful of his deficits and allowed the band to go out, in some form, as a band of brothers. Retrospectively pining for the "good old days" might initially sound great. Thing is, you (Ozzy and Iommi and Butler) ultimately made the decision to air your laundry and disparage Ward in the press. It could have been different. Could it be now? Given where we are, not likely. So, the better thing to do is apologize. Because even that ‘huge risk’ who ‘doesn’t have the chops’ now admits, years later, that what you pinned on him then is now true: he can’t do it. Thing is, he likely could have done it when you made your Faustian bargain and treated him like he didn’t have a place at the table.
I still give you props though. Aside from a few stumbles, Iommi, you have been a rare instance of grace in an otherwise sullied world of musicians who let me down (not that they were working to prop me up). And you provided us with a window into your world while you courageously battled cancer and pushed it back, only to come back and keep offering us the gifts of your genius. Now do the fans one last favor. Give us some nice copies of the stuff pre-Martin, when you were already struggling to find a path forward and still hit on some unexpectedly great moments.
EMI seemed to love lime green because they sure used the color a lot in their late 80s ads.
Thanks to Reddit, I saw this awesome 1989 ad promoting Cats In Boots. The album title can't be beat at Kicked & Klawed but the cut line of "no dogs allowed" takes the cake here.
A solemn Memorial Day nod to my fellow Americans. In addition to being a holiday to remember those we have lost while serving in the military, it is also the unofficial start of summer and thus concert season. Be careful today - especially if you are hitting the roads and going on vacation.
Sunday, June 2, 2024 at 12:50PM