Word: musication
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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...very long who don't recognize their own self-interestedness, who think that they're just doing their thing. Those who have made it are very careful about preserving their images, because thy know that they are trafficking not primarily in their art but in their charisma. Great music is only half of successful rock personalities. The other half is knowing how to act like a celebrity. This is because the hip audience doesn't want somebody who's just a good performer, like Elvis or Little Richard: that conjures up images of a mindless buffoon in a sequined jacket...
...have been in several bands, and their names reflect the changing times in pop music. The Dukes, a Fantasy-Aristocrat Blue Tuxedo Ooh-Wah-Wah Teenage Rhythm and Blues Band; the Boss Dudes, a spiffy Tuff-guy Band; the Hard Times, an L.A. Nice Long Hair Band; the End, a Top-40 Blare-Rock Band; the Church Bizarre, a Funky Blues-Rock Bad-Ass Band; and the Bead Game, a Beautiful People Dope All You Need Is Love Stoned Hippier Than Thou Band. I have been addicted to rock longer than I care to remember...
...bands and hundreds of musicians, some excellent, some execrable. It gave hope to a great variety of dropouts and freaks that their City, Boss-Town, would be their next stopping-off point on their never-ending journey to That Better World Through Love, Dope, And Rock 'n' Roll Music. Hotcha...
...reason that rock music in general, and the Boston Sound in particular, is such a confused area is that there are no critical standards by which to judge the music. White rock musicians today have nothing, in Dylan's phrase, to live up to. And the audiences will pay in turn to be insulted (The Mothers), bored (The Ultimate Spinach), assaulted (The Fugs and MC 5), ignored (The Jefferson Airplane and Procol Harum), and urinated upon by a lukewarm assemblage of beligerent flower-cretins. Entertainment is left up to a very few white groups who know how to act onstage...
...this Douglas cat belonged in Bridgewater. I just said yeah, I guess we ought to, and Douglas disappeared from my life until the next fall when the Ultimate Spinach album came out. I was with the Bead Game by then, fighting hard to get ahead, playing exclusively our own music, and I read, as I stood there holding this green vegetable psychotic album in my hands, "Top-40 isn't where it's at, any more." The Ultimate Spinach had arrived. I had a strange premonition that I was doomed to follow in Ian-Bruce Douglas' footsteps, although I hated...