Word: sound
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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...WHICH IT IS SEEN THAT MEETING GEORGE PLIMPTON WAS THE BEST THING THE BOSTON SOUND EVER, EVER...
...Thinkers. People with Something To Say. The Norman Vincent Peales of the Pop World, the Eric Burdons and the Jackie de Shannons, ruin what talents they have by imitating the concerns of smarter folk. They lack the convincing power of a Dylan or a Jagger. This was the Boston Sound all over. It was rife with rotten social commentators and fourth-rate hip prophets. They played the silly game of Keeping Up with the San Francisco Groups. Instead of becoming a solid block in the great Gothic cathedral of Pop, they became the pale shadows of the stained glass windows...
...SHOUTING about the Boston Sound was mostly about the courtship the BS was carrying on with those two whores with hearts of gold, Fame and Money. The big recording companies were pouring money into promotion of the scene before it had matured, feigning great interest in the musicians. The musicians, myself included, fell for it. Somehow in our hearts we all believed that there, way up high on top of the Big Rock Candy Mountain a recording contract was being written by genial producers and stamped with approval by God. Nobody really had any idea what was going on, although...
...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...
...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 his music. The Boston Sound was beginning to strangle its young. We were going to have to pay for the sins of the Ultimate Spinach, I knew it in my bones...