Thursday, March 26, 2015

Adam Knapp's Top 10 musical influences, Pt. 4

Editor's note: Well, this is the final blog in Adam Knapp's "musical influences" series. Kind of sad to see it go, but I'll be glad to get back the use of my own blog. He picked an interesting topic to write about. Hearing certain songs for the first time -- music that can alter your perceptions - can be an experience right up there with reading a life-changing book, losing your virginity or getting high for the first time. We all have our own high fidelity-esque mixed tape in our heads. Speaking of changing one's worldview, Adam also picked a compelling and timely subject for the documentary film he's been working on. Coming soon. Look for it.
--J. Guy

AC/DC


2. The Next-Door Neighbor
There was an older girl who lived down the road from us who was really nice to me. She took me to the skating rink. We went swimming in her pond. She tried to be a musical influence on me, playing records for me in her bedroom … but when you’re a boy in the fifth grade, I don’t care how big your breasts are, “Sad Eyes” isn’t going to cut it.

Her older brother was a different story.

Had there been more people out in the country, Les Finstad probably wouldn’t have had much use for me. But I was young, I was impressionable and I was … well, there. Les introduced me to Red Man chewing tobacco. We played tackle football in my basement, just the two of us, and I’m pretty sure that’s where I grasped the concept of four downs – to say nothing of knocking heads.

But mostly, Les made me realize what kind of music I loved. Within days of meeting him, my then-favorite song, “Good Times Roll” by The Cars, had been replaced by “More Than a Feeling.” That was the first song from Boston's first album. Strangely, I haven't liked another Boston song since. But that's inconsequential because of the other group Les introduced me to.

AC/DC.

Now … you have to understand the era in which I grew up. If someone my age tells you their favorite band is the Beatles – well, that’s cool. Nobody’s better than the Beatles. But they’re too young to have experienced the Beatles. For me, AC/DC came along at perfect time.

So pretend you’re a new kid in the middle of the country, sitting in a teenager’s truck on a hot summer day.

                           "Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap -- AC/DC!!!!

Look at that album cover. Now listen to “Dirty Deeds” for a minute or so. Tell me some part of your body isn’t moving right now.

This felt like doing something bad - and I don’t care who you are, there is no way you don’t like that song. The rest of the album was more of the same: “Problem Child,” “Squealer,” “Jailbreak” – all of them just gritty, raw, balls-to-the-wall rock n’ roll straight out Australia. No ballads with these guys. (Unless you count “Big Balls,” an anthem in its own right. And you wouldn’t.)

Sometime during my fifth-grade year, AC/DC’s lead singer drank himself to death. I didn’t know that at the time. All I knew is that the very same year, AC/DC came out with a new album with a new lead singer, and they became bigger than ever.

I ask you, who has ever done that? It’s unheard of. And one of the songs on Back in Black was “Have a Drink on Me.” Who the hell would do that?

Clearly, the guys in AC/DC had no conscience. Was that part of their appeal? For a kid with a heavy conscience, probably.

I don’t know how much you know about AC/DC, but I promise you I know more. Somewhere on YouTube you can find their VH1 Behind the Music special. It’s 15 years old now. They’ve had a few hits since then and, all right, maybe there’s been a murder plot or two, but it still holds up.


1. The Master

I don’t remember my parents actually listening to them, but they owned several Beatles LPs: Meet The Beatles, Help, A Hard Day’s Night and Rubber Soul. Until I met Frank Walker, I thought the last Beatles album was Revolver.

But Frank took me to the Augusta Public Library, and introduced me to a whole new chapter of the … well, “trippy” Beatles. Magical Mystery Tour, Sgt. Pepper’s and Yellow Submarine became my new Fab Four favorites.

When I was the new kid at Haverhill Elementary, Frank asked what radio station I listened to. I told him KEYN. He informed me there was a new station that was better: T-95. (Several years later, I would have my own weekly guest spot on T-95. I was supposed to be talking sports, but usually tried to steer the conversation to rock music.)

If the story ended right there, Frank would still be in my top 10 music influences. But he’s No. 1, and I think you’ll agree it’s not even close.

Frank’s home wasn’t big, but it opened up a big new world. It was in that house when I first heard Neil Young’s “Rockin’ in the Free World,” which remains my favorite song.

It was where I first remembered hearing Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers, who I came to love and finally saw in 2008.

It was where I first heard Queen’s epic theme song to Flash Gordon. (“Flash! Ah ah! King of the Impossible!”)

It was where I first learned about Led Zeppelin (that was Frank’s kid brother) … and later, Dread Zeppelin (that was all Frank).

His mom was (and is) a huge fan of the Rolling Stones, a band I knew little about but quickly appreciated, and finally got to see in 2006. Frank adored Pink Floyd, and talked his father into taking us to see The Wall when were 13. Far out.

When we were 14, his parents took Frank and me to my first concert, ZZ Top (warm-up act: Night Ranger). Three months later they took me to my second concert, Huey Lewis and News (warm-up act: Stevie Ray Vaughn).

And so on, and so on. By the time I finished college, Frank and I had raised the bar by seeing rock heavyweights like AC/DC, Van Halen, KISS and Metallica (warm-up act: The Cult.)

Oh right – Metallica. Frank was way ahead of the curve on them. Kids, listening to Metallica in the 1980s was considered more scary than cool. But there Frank was, rocking in his Pinto (and later, his bitchin’ Camaro) to “Whiplash,” “For Whom the Bell Tolls” and “Master of Puppets.”
(Note: Frank’s nickname, “The Master,” is because of his reputation of being the go-to source of information for most things, not because of that song. But it is a happy coincidence.)

The list goes on. Ozzy. Megadeth. And yes, it was Frank who introduced me to the infamous 2 Live Crew, at least a year before most of the country knew who they were. Same with Sir Mix-A-Lot. And LL Cool J.

Frank once returned from a vacation in California and gave me a couple of bootleg cassettes – one of them was a Van Halen concert in Germany that ended the 1984 tour. I’m telling you, this guy is just the best.
Public Enemy

OK, so all that stuff happened by the time were 21. And then Frank and I became roommates.
That opened up a big new world again.

Frank was playing stuff like Public Enemy, Living Color, Primus and a then-mostly unknown group out of Seattle called Soundgarden. Yes, he was kind of responsible for getting me into grunge, too. I mean, I was aware of Alice in Chains, but until Frank insisted listen to “Dirt,” I wasn’t in love with them.

I’m pretty sure Frank also introduced to me to Tenacious D and a few other bands, but I think you get the point. And I won’t elaborate about the time I caught him listening to Air Supply. 

That might have just been a crazy dream. 


                                    "Whiskey in a Jar" -- Metallica

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