Sometimes I'm nostalgic for the days when pop culture was a lot less nostalgic.This is not to say I don't enjoy a fond whiff of yesterday myself occasionally, 'though a lot less so now than when I was in my teens. In other words, I cared more about the past when I had less of it.
Perhaps ironically, or maybe not surprisingly, pop culture of the yesteryear is more easily accessible now than it ever was, thanks to Youtube and myriad internet communities that bring common interests, no matter how obscure, together. Been missing that Juicy Fruit TV ad you last saw in '77, or want to see if Galactica '80 is as bad as you remember? It's all seconds away at your fingertips.
Bands, like pop culture in general, evolve (to put it charitably) over time. All my favourite bands went through major personnel changes during my teens, and it all seemed like there would be no going back in any instance. This isn't to say I always disliked the changes I witnessed, but it all looked pretty permanent in any case.
Of course, if someone had told me virtually all these changes would be reversed within the next thirty years, albeit temporarily in most cases, it would still seem as good as permanent. Thirty years? That's an unendurable span of time.
My first taste of all these band personnel changes was an unlikely cover of People Magazine from the Summer of 1980. It was Kiss posing in their disco-era costumes...but without Peter Criss. They had some new guy with a vaguely fox-themed persona, whose name, we learned, was Eric Carr.
A baby-boomer might have felt something similar to my reaction if the Abbey Road cover had shown some unknown guy in place of Ringo striding over that famous crosswalk along with George, John and Paul. For a die-hard fan like me, the universe had come unglued.
It was a feeling of dislocation yet fascination – probably the same effect screenwriters hope to create with audiences when they kill off beloved characters or radically change settings.
The next few years brought plenty of changes elsewhere – AC/DC soldiered on without the late Bon Scott (no chance of an earthly reunion there, unfortunately), Zeppelin collapsed following the death of John Bonham (ditto – but with a twist), Cheap Trick changed bassists, Boston dumped all but the core two members, Van Halen became Van Hagar, the Police became Sting, Yes swapped out half the band twice, Supertramp lost Roger Hodgson, Roger Waters left Pink Floyd, and the list goes on. A shorter list might consist of bands that actually kept their lineups intact between '79 and '85...and there was certainly never an indicator that the original lineups would ever re-form.
And the musical results?
Fair to poor.
Most bands survived, a couple (AC/DC, Van Halen, Marillion, Floyd) thrived, at least temporarily, but most lost the magic of the original if they didn't transform completely (like the 90125-era Yes). Don't agree? Look what happened when these bands (where possible) reunited their original players. The Police, the Eagles, Kiss and Van Halen, Aerosmith and a handful of others did huge business on reunion tours or one-off performances. Some were an especially pleasant surprise, as years of warring in the press and/or the courts (e.g.: Floyd vs. Waters, Van Halen vs. David Lee Roth) had made reunion seem highly unlikely and especially fascinating to observe.
And the musical results?
As Concrete Blonde said, you can never go back to the scene of the perfect crime...and I suspect there are too many variable conditions to bring back the original magic, even with the original lineup.
Ironically, I still love the idea of reunions, and I always approach them with optimism and a will to like them. When Zeppelin reunited in '07 for a one-off concert (with John Bonham's son Jason on drums), I snapped the DVD off the store shelf and hurried it home, even though I hadn't heard anything I liked from the surviving members in a very long time. Jason Bonham did himself proud, and I loved the song choices – but these are guys who haven't had to prove themselves to anyone in decades, and it showed. It was cohesive and well-rehearsed, but the improvisational brilliance and vocal panache of the original version are as gone as the 'seventies. After Floyd's reunion at Live 8, Roger Waters was offered obscene (even by Floyd standards) amounts of money to tour with Gilmour, Wright and Mason again (this time Gilmour demurred). Audiences will pay hugely for the hope of the old magic, even if the likely result is a pale shadow of the band everyone remembers.
I bring this up because the reunion issue has popped into view for me on a few occasions lately. Firstly, MLB drummer Curtis Leippi has been moonlighting in a Heart tribute band called Barracuda. This act does the old Heart material so much justice that it has often attracted a special guest to the stage: original Heart guitarist Roger Fisher, who left Heart in 1980. I've seen him perform with Barracuda on a couple of occasions, and he certainly brings firepower to an already incendiary lineup. To top it off, Heart was inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame last year, and reunited (somewhat reluctantly, according to recent interviews) the original band, including Fisher. Did it bring back the old magic? Perhaps – but the Wilson sisters aren't entertaining any further reunions.
Meanwhile, this year's Hall of Fame inductees include, ironically, Kiss. Here's a band that has fired its original drummer three times (and suffered his threats of quitting on over a dozen occasions), had its original lead guitarist walk away twice, seen a current and a former member die, and has had a total of ten members for a four-piece band. Despite a lake of accumulated bad blood, it sounds like the original band will re-unite (at least once more) for the induction ceremony. Do I care? Actually, yes. While I'd guess that all four guys have had their souls (and musicianship and songwriting instincts) significantly eaten away by a lifetime in the excesses of show business, this would likely be the first time in nearly forty years that all four members will be onstage together without chemical influence – or perhaps the pressure to make a financial killing in the near future (which would be Mr. Simmons' drug, I suspect). It probably won't be a stellar performance, but I doubt it will be bad – or dull.
On a more personal level, I had the chance over the last year to jam a couple of times with they guys in my very first band. We played together in high school, and hadn't reunited in any capacity (not even over beers) since – and it was a thoroughly enjoyable get-together. Musically, we'd all moved off in different directions since 1985, so there was no question of re-forming for any new artistic statement – but it was gratifying to re-visit our old musical common ground, talk gear with the guys who discovered gear with me so long ago, and juxtapose fond yesterdays with today. Perhaps that's the key to the popularity of band reunions – like any game of chance, there's a possibility that bringing yesterday's formula forward to today can produce as much magic as it did before – even if it's a different flavour of magic. It's always tempting to roll the dice, because there's not much to lose, but time – like any enduring casino – lets few customers come out ahead. Time wears and scrambles all the factors that went into a band's magic heyday, just as each pull of the handle drains away a few more coins. You can't go back to the scene of the perfect crime, and it's better to devote one's energies to finding new inspiration than trying to re-create old. Of course, if I'm proven wrong a few times on this, I doubt I'd be at all disappointed...
...but I might look back on this blog with a certain nostalgia...
Perhaps ironically, or maybe not surprisingly, pop culture of the yesteryear is more easily accessible now than it ever was, thanks to Youtube and myriad internet communities that bring common interests, no matter how obscure, together. Been missing that Juicy Fruit TV ad you last saw in '77, or want to see if Galactica '80 is as bad as you remember? It's all seconds away at your fingertips.
Bands, like pop culture in general, evolve (to put it charitably) over time. All my favourite bands went through major personnel changes during my teens, and it all seemed like there would be no going back in any instance. This isn't to say I always disliked the changes I witnessed, but it all looked pretty permanent in any case.
Of course, if someone had told me virtually all these changes would be reversed within the next thirty years, albeit temporarily in most cases, it would still seem as good as permanent. Thirty years? That's an unendurable span of time.
My first taste of all these band personnel changes was an unlikely cover of People Magazine from the Summer of 1980. It was Kiss posing in their disco-era costumes...but without Peter Criss. They had some new guy with a vaguely fox-themed persona, whose name, we learned, was Eric Carr.
A baby-boomer might have felt something similar to my reaction if the Abbey Road cover had shown some unknown guy in place of Ringo striding over that famous crosswalk along with George, John and Paul. For a die-hard fan like me, the universe had come unglued.
It was a feeling of dislocation yet fascination – probably the same effect screenwriters hope to create with audiences when they kill off beloved characters or radically change settings.
The next few years brought plenty of changes elsewhere – AC/DC soldiered on without the late Bon Scott (no chance of an earthly reunion there, unfortunately), Zeppelin collapsed following the death of John Bonham (ditto – but with a twist), Cheap Trick changed bassists, Boston dumped all but the core two members, Van Halen became Van Hagar, the Police became Sting, Yes swapped out half the band twice, Supertramp lost Roger Hodgson, Roger Waters left Pink Floyd, and the list goes on. A shorter list might consist of bands that actually kept their lineups intact between '79 and '85...and there was certainly never an indicator that the original lineups would ever re-form.
And the musical results?
Fair to poor.
Most bands survived, a couple (AC/DC, Van Halen, Marillion, Floyd) thrived, at least temporarily, but most lost the magic of the original if they didn't transform completely (like the 90125-era Yes). Don't agree? Look what happened when these bands (where possible) reunited their original players. The Police, the Eagles, Kiss and Van Halen, Aerosmith and a handful of others did huge business on reunion tours or one-off performances. Some were an especially pleasant surprise, as years of warring in the press and/or the courts (e.g.: Floyd vs. Waters, Van Halen vs. David Lee Roth) had made reunion seem highly unlikely and especially fascinating to observe.
And the musical results?
As Concrete Blonde said, you can never go back to the scene of the perfect crime...and I suspect there are too many variable conditions to bring back the original magic, even with the original lineup.
Ironically, I still love the idea of reunions, and I always approach them with optimism and a will to like them. When Zeppelin reunited in '07 for a one-off concert (with John Bonham's son Jason on drums), I snapped the DVD off the store shelf and hurried it home, even though I hadn't heard anything I liked from the surviving members in a very long time. Jason Bonham did himself proud, and I loved the song choices – but these are guys who haven't had to prove themselves to anyone in decades, and it showed. It was cohesive and well-rehearsed, but the improvisational brilliance and vocal panache of the original version are as gone as the 'seventies. After Floyd's reunion at Live 8, Roger Waters was offered obscene (even by Floyd standards) amounts of money to tour with Gilmour, Wright and Mason again (this time Gilmour demurred). Audiences will pay hugely for the hope of the old magic, even if the likely result is a pale shadow of the band everyone remembers.
I bring this up because the reunion issue has popped into view for me on a few occasions lately. Firstly, MLB drummer Curtis Leippi has been moonlighting in a Heart tribute band called Barracuda. This act does the old Heart material so much justice that it has often attracted a special guest to the stage: original Heart guitarist Roger Fisher, who left Heart in 1980. I've seen him perform with Barracuda on a couple of occasions, and he certainly brings firepower to an already incendiary lineup. To top it off, Heart was inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame last year, and reunited (somewhat reluctantly, according to recent interviews) the original band, including Fisher. Did it bring back the old magic? Perhaps – but the Wilson sisters aren't entertaining any further reunions.
Meanwhile, this year's Hall of Fame inductees include, ironically, Kiss. Here's a band that has fired its original drummer three times (and suffered his threats of quitting on over a dozen occasions), had its original lead guitarist walk away twice, seen a current and a former member die, and has had a total of ten members for a four-piece band. Despite a lake of accumulated bad blood, it sounds like the original band will re-unite (at least once more) for the induction ceremony. Do I care? Actually, yes. While I'd guess that all four guys have had their souls (and musicianship and songwriting instincts) significantly eaten away by a lifetime in the excesses of show business, this would likely be the first time in nearly forty years that all four members will be onstage together without chemical influence – or perhaps the pressure to make a financial killing in the near future (which would be Mr. Simmons' drug, I suspect). It probably won't be a stellar performance, but I doubt it will be bad – or dull.
On a more personal level, I had the chance over the last year to jam a couple of times with they guys in my very first band. We played together in high school, and hadn't reunited in any capacity (not even over beers) since – and it was a thoroughly enjoyable get-together. Musically, we'd all moved off in different directions since 1985, so there was no question of re-forming for any new artistic statement – but it was gratifying to re-visit our old musical common ground, talk gear with the guys who discovered gear with me so long ago, and juxtapose fond yesterdays with today. Perhaps that's the key to the popularity of band reunions – like any game of chance, there's a possibility that bringing yesterday's formula forward to today can produce as much magic as it did before – even if it's a different flavour of magic. It's always tempting to roll the dice, because there's not much to lose, but time – like any enduring casino – lets few customers come out ahead. Time wears and scrambles all the factors that went into a band's magic heyday, just as each pull of the handle drains away a few more coins. You can't go back to the scene of the perfect crime, and it's better to devote one's energies to finding new inspiration than trying to re-create old. Of course, if I'm proven wrong a few times on this, I doubt I'd be at all disappointed...
...but I might look back on this blog with a certain nostalgia...