Twenty three years ago today, on January 3, 1987, Johnny Cash performed on "Austin City Limits," the DVD of which is available here. I've written about Johnny Cash in Austin before, specifically his December 1994 performance at the Frank Erwin Center, but that was after Cash had linked up with producer Rick Rubin and began the great and final resurgence of his career.
Cash was a revolutionary in many ways, but most of what we as listeners know of his career occurred long before 1987: the hits, the drama, the marriage to June Carter. (There's a reason why the biopic Walk the Line stopped its narrative long before 1987). The ACL performance prompts the question: What would have become of Cash had Rubin not produced his next few albums? Would he have done as the DVD's set list suggests and performed a series of greatest hits victory laps until he was ready to retire? Although Cash was certainly a musical treasure prior to 1994, it could not be said that in the late 1980s his most recent output was well known or recognized as among his best. (In the late 1980s, Cash was signed to Mercury Records.).
But when Cash and Rubin collaborated in 1994 to release American Recordings (and several more similar albums over the following years), he reinvented himself in a way that few 62 year old musicians receive an opportunity to do. Listening to the 1987 set list, it's difficult to imagine that in less than a decade he would become a darling of the indie community and that hipsters a third his age would be wearing his t-shirts and buying his most recent albums. Ah, the fates.
The culmination of Cash's long time collaboration with Rubin was, of course, the cover of "Hurt" by Nine Inch Nails. Listeners already knew the trial and travails of Cash, which were public knowledge long before Joaquin Phoenix brought them to the screen. This working knowledge of Cash's life serves as its own preface to his rendition of "Hurt," and, accordingly, it touches the listener in a far more powerful fashion than the the original version of the song written by Trent Reznor. Although Reznor's lyrics remain powerful, it is when his words are coupled with Cash's vocals that their significance is truly felt. Cash's voice strains, and almost fails, as he sings the song, and the result is astonishing: we believe him when he sings those words. He is "Hurt."
The track list for the 1987 show is as follows:
1. "Ring of Fire" 2. "Folsom Prison Blues" 3. "Sunday Mornin' Comin' Down" 4. "I Walk the Line" 5. "The Wall" 6. "Long Black Veil" 7. "Big River" 8. "I'll Go Somewhere and Sing My Songs Again" 9. "Let Him Roll" 10. "Ballad of Barbara" 11. "Sam Stone" 12. "(Ghost) Riders in the Sky" 13. "Where Did We Go Right" w/ June Carter Cash 14. "I Walk the Line" (outro) 15. "Big Light" 16. "Wonderful Time Up There" 17. "Fourth Man"
The far better nostalgia blog Slicing Up Eyeballshas written about the coming reissues of My Bloody Valentine's albums from days of yore. (That's right, shoegazing fans, you'll have to shell out your hard earned cash yet again in January to obtain these newly remastered versions of records you've probably bought at least twice by now. Maybe even once on cassette.). As I begin the enterprise of this blog anew, I think to myself, my goodness, if only I could have seen the MBV reunion shows back in 2008. That would have been something, no?
Depicted above is a ticket stub for the Johnny Cash concert held on Thursday, December 8, 1994, at the Frank Erwin Center at the University of Texas at Austin. Texas musicians Don Walser and Jimmie Dale Gilmore opened for Cash that night. Note the purchase price: $19.50.
Cash is now a hero to Generation X (or whatever we're now calling that generation). In April of 1994, Cash had released American Recordings, his first collaboration with Rick Rubin, who would serve as Cash's producer until his 2005 death. Under Rubin's stewardship, Cash would reinvent himself for the final time and later cover, among other songs, Soundgarden's "Rusty Cage" (two years later), U2's "One," (three years later), and, of course, Nine Inch Nails' "Hurt" (eight years later). But it was not just the novelty covers that cemented Cash's reputation as an icon and hero to a generation of college students born two decades after he first achieved fame. (Let me be clear: Cash's version of "Hurt" is so stark and believable that it is far beyond a mere novelty.). Rather, it was the dark honesty conveyed by Cash's coarse voice and years of hard living accompanied by an ominous sounding acoustic guitar. On March 17, 1994, Cash served as the keynote speaker at South by Southwest and played Emo's, an alternative rock club on Austin's noted Sixth Street, that night. (See here - and scroll down to the "Walking the Line" story - for a neat anecdote about the 1994 Emo's show.).
Pictured above is Cash during his keynote speech to South by Southwest on March 17, 1994.
On December 8, 1994, Cash returned to Austin as part of the American Recordings tour for the aforementioned show at the Erwin Center. Music critic John T. Davis reviewed the show for the Austin American Statesman. In so doing, he cooed:
Anyone who ever questioned the potency of one man and one guitar need only have been at the Erwin Center on Thursday night to lay all doubts to rest.
There onstage sat a 63-year-old great-grandfather, clad entirely in black and holding an ebony acoustic guitar ("It's time for the black guitar!" he said as he traded in his blond Martin and pulled up a stool to take the stage alone). The only illumination in the house was one white spotlight, trained squarely on him; there was no place to hide.
He was singing something about a beast that raged inside him, a wild thing constrained only by the frailest bonds of love and compassion. And he sang a song about shooting his sweetheart; he felt pretty bad about it. And there was a song about a horse. And the house was rapt. Attentive, engrossed, and above all, silent. Thousands of people, all focused on that one man and that one guitar. If you're Johnny Cash, you can conjure up intimacy amidst absolute strangers.1
But that review could have described any show by Cash at numerous points in his career. It wasn't until later in his review that Davis attempted to recount this show's specifics:
Over the course of his 31-song set at the Erwin Center, he sang his first hit, 1955's Get Rhythm, contemporary songs by Nick Lowe and Leonard Cohen, and evergreens such as Peace in the Valley and Orange Blossom Special. And he made it all of a piece, so that his set flowed seamlessly across the decades in a way that appealed to grunge fans and graybeards alike.
The Tennessee Three, Cash's accompanists since the Rockies were knee-high, proved themselves a surprisingly supple ensemble, considering how many times their fingers have caressed these licks. They brought a sassy, cantering edge to Big River, I Still Miss Someone and Folsom Prison Blues.
And June Carter Cash infused the show with her own thoroughbred elan and dash, in a miniset that found her crooning and growling in counterpoint to her spouse on Tim Hardin's If I Were a Carpenter, Bob Dylan's It Ain't Me Babe, and the couple's own hit, Jackson.
But it was that time alone in the spotlight that lingers in the memory. Johnny Cash has always wanted to be taken on his own terms, as both a man and an artist. On Thursday night, he got his chance, and it made for a splendid evening.2
It was a good show. In fact, I have created below an annotated set list including the banter and stage dialogue of Cash and his wife, June Carter Cash (conveniently transcribed from a bootleg of the concert and including some interesting career anecdotes and history).
1. Folsom Prison Blues 2. Get Rhythm 3. Sunday Morning Coming Down 4. Ghost Riders in the Sky
JOHNNY CASH: Thank you very much. I'm so glad to be back to Austin. You've already seen a - you've already seen a great show before I came on. Don Walser and Jimmie Dale Gilmore; they're wonderful. They're wonderful. I got a new album out this year that I got some requests to do songs for it. And, uh, first I'd like to do one of my favorites, theirs only me and the guitar on this album. I wanted to call the album Scary. Painfully Honest. Some of the songs I wrote, some were written for me, and some I always wanted to record, some of the old ones, like this one that I've known since I was a little boy, called "Cowboy's Prayer."
5. A Cowboy's Prayer/Oh, Bury Me Not 6. Big River
CASH: Thank you, thank you very much. [Audience yells requests.]. Hey. Right. All right. Yes. All right. I'm gonna do 'em for you. Sure am. I'm gonna try and do 'em all for you. [Applause.]. Wow. We started in 1955, there weren't any drums on country music records, well maybe, and I liked the snare drum. W.S. Holland played drums with Carl Perkins when I met him in 1955. I liked the sound of his snare drum but they wouldn't let me take the drums in the studio so, uh, let me see that. So I did my own little snare drum sound. I don't know where I got this, I may have stolen it, I may have dreamed it up myself, I'm not sure. Been a lifetime ago. That's uh, on the drums W.S. Holland has been with me now 35 years. Yeah, he's -- he's the right one. But we're gonna do this song without him. On the upright bass is Mr. Dave Roe and Bob Wooten on lead guitar. Here's us in 1955.
7. I Walk the Line
CASH: Here's a song I wrote in '59.
8. I Still Miss Someone 9. Man in Black
CASH: Thank you. Here's a patriotic song.
10. Remember the Alamo. 11. Orange Blossom Special
CASH: Thank you. Well, it's time for the black guitar. I'm want to thank - thank you - I want to thank Willie Nelson for letting me come to Austin. (Cheers.). Old Willie. Love Willie Nelson. Willie and Waylon and Kris and I just did a new album - a Highwaymen album - new Highwaymen album that will be out March the 9th. And we all did a solo on the album as well as doing eight songs together. And I'd like to sing one that's my contribution. My son John Carter and I wrote this, and it's called "Death and Hell," subtitled "Pigs Can See The Wind."
12. Death and Hell
CASH: Willie said how can you prove pigs can see the wind and I said you can't but you can't prove they can't.
13. Delia’s Gone 14. Bird On a Wire (Written by Leonard Cohen)
CASH: [Coughs.] Well, I wanted to call the album also - well the theme of it, really, is sin and redemption. And there's two dogs on the cover and one of them is black with a white stripe and one of them is white with a black stripe. Neither one of them is quite all the way kinda like me I guess. Got redemption coming; redemption is coming. Uh, but right now.
15. The Beast in Me 16. Tennessee Stud
CASH: Thank you. Among the writers who contributed to this album were, was, uh, was a fellow named Tom Waits.
17. Down There By the Train
CASH: Here's my song, my Vietnam song. They had an expression that when a situation looked hopeless, couldn't walk through it, no way to get through it, but you had to go through it, the only attitude to take was drive on, don't mean nothing.
18. Drive On
CASH: Thank you. Thank you . Thank you very much. Got a special guest for just - right after this song.
19. Ring of Fire
CASH: Yes, alright. I love you! Thank you. I love you people. I love you people! Here's my favorite entertainer, here's June Carter Cash.
20. Jackson (with June Carter Cash)
JUNE CARTER CASH: Thank you very much.
21. If I Were a Carpenter (with June Carter Cash)
JUNE CARTER CASH: Okay, okay, thank you very much. I - I enjoy doing those two songs with John, uh, they're the easiest ones to sing because they're the only two that I ever won a Grammy for. And I still enjoy doing those with him, and the first song I ever recorded with him was written for us by a friend of ours, and this was way back a long time ago, Bob Dylan wrote this song, we first recorded it and we'll just do it again for you. Maybe you'll remember the song whether you remember us singing it or not.
22. It Ain't Me Babe (with June Carter Cash)
JUNE CARTER CASH: Okay, thank you. I'm not too sure how well we know this one, but we love this song.
CASH: Oh, I love it. Billy Joe Shaver song, new Highwaymen, for the new Highwaymen album.
JUNE CARTER CASH: Well, just press on.
CASH: I'm going to live forever.
23. Live Forever (with June Carter Cash)
Thank you. Thank you very much. It's an exciting time for me to be back in Austin, Texas. I - I started many, many years ago from the old Texas border stations when I was a tiny little girl. My mother was Mother Maybelle Carter, and my uncle A.P. and Aunt Sara Carter -- that was the old original Carter Family. And I sung for many, many years with my sisters and Mother Maybelle on the Grand Ole Opry. And then I've been a part of Johnny Cash's life and been doing what he's been doing, for the past, almost, well, and I've been working with him for about thirty two or three years. But, it's like, we've been married almost 27 years now. So, I'm gonna stay with him if he doesn't really mess up. But sometimes I feel real good singing in family situation because I have sung with my family for so long. And, uh, I love to sing the songs of the Carter Family. They had some 350 to 400 old classic songs. And I'm still singing today most of the time as a -- with John on our shows that we do and I'm just glad to be hear tonight. But I'm lucky, too, because one of our daughters that is my youngest daughter, uh, that, uh, has been singing as a part of the Carter Family now has her own recording contract. And she's going to be recording for a new label that's out by the House of Blues. they also own these Hard Rock Cafes. So, they're going into the recording business. But she's sings a mighty kind of a blues song, and she's here tonight and I'm going to ask her to sing my favorite of the old Carter Family songs with me
CASH: Hey, Rosie!
JUNE CARTER CASH: This is Rosie Carter, ladies and gentlemen! She's right here, Rose, if you will! Okay! I want to ask you to sing this song with us if you know it. It's that kind of a song. Mother Maybelle would be glad if you remembered it. Rosie, will you give me a hand? You too, John.
24. Will the Circle Be Unbroken (with June Carter Cash and Rosie Carter) 25. The Next Time I’m in Town 26. Guess Things Happen That Way 27. Ballad of Ira Hayes 28. Home of the Blues 29. Long Black Veil 30. A Boy Named Sue 31. Peace in the Valley 32. Instrumental Outro
(You can find the set list and other information about this gig here, here, and here.).
Commentary: Cash played a surprising number of tunes from American Recordings that night (although he chose not to play Loudon Wainright's "The Man Who Couldn't Cry" or Glenn Danzig's "Thirteen"). Cash and his wife appeared to enjoy themselves. June Carter Cash couldn't seem to contain her giggles as she sang her way through "If Were A Carpenter."
The soon to be released Highwaymen album to which Cash referred during the show was The Road Goes On Forever, the last that group would release:
Cash himself would give his last full concert in Flint, Michigan, in October of 1997. He and his wife passed away in 2003. Rosie, June Carter's daughter (a/k/a Rosie Nix Adams) who toured with Cash, would die of carbon monoxide poisoning in an apparent accident involving lanterns on a bus in October of 2003 (just a month after Cash's death and five months after her mother's death). Rosie Carter is not to be confused, though, with Roseanne Cash, Cash's daughter with Vivian Liberto and a musician in her own right.
Recently, I re-watched Walk The Line, the 2005 biopic of Johnny Cash featuring Joaquin Phoenix as Cash and Reese Witherspoon as his love interest and future wife, June Carter. Phoenix at times seemed to eerily channel Cash, but at others, merely engage in an awkward impression. Witherspoon, as Carter, was a joy to watch and made it easy to overcome any dislike for actresses known for their prickly personalities and sugary sweet vapid film roles.
Troubling, though, was the film's attempt to justify Cash's affair with June and his accompanying neglect of his then-wife Liberto (played in the film by Ginnifer Goodwin, now of HBO's "Big Love"). Modern viewers know that Cash ends up with June Carter, so the director apparently found it acceptable to portray Liberto as a hysterical stereotype - collateral damage of the truer love of Cash and June Carter. A film with more depth would have probed Liberto's anguish and rejection in more detail rather than giving Goodwin a few token scenes to act the jilted spouse.
Unfortunately, director James Mangold offered nothing unusual with the film. The script, written by Gil Dennis and Mangold, offered the traditional musician biopic formula with the tired ups and downs found on any episode of VH1's "Behind the Music." Certainly, a film depicting the life of someone bold and innovative should be equally bold and innovative. Alas, there was nothing as daring in the film as there was in Cash's own creative work.
Comparisons to the previous year's equally formulaic Ray Charles biopic, Ray, were inevitable. Both films featured musicians who initially subscribe to musical conventions but find that by remaining true to their own instincts and talents, find that they are trailblazers. Both films feature protagonists who were traumatized in their youths by the deaths of their brothers. Both films depict artists who turn to womanizing and drugs to cope with the perils and rigors of the road and success. Both films illustrate that a rigid adherence to formula in biopic film-making does not adequately depict those who made a name for themselves refusing to rigidly adhere to formula. We've seen it all before, and although such tales might and could be compelling when reduced to a two hour cinematic experience, the directors of Walk the Line and Ray chose to present viewers with a typical portrayal of the tortured genius musician.
Cash deserved more; as did Charles. What to do? These directors, as well as those who plan to helm pictures purporting to depict the lives of famous musicians (or artists of any kind, really) should adopt the following guidelines and restraints to avoid the perils of movie cliches:
1. Limit yourself to a two to five year period in the subject's life.
The viewer is bringing with him or her a working knowledge of the subject's life; we don't need to explore every nook and cranny of a career that spans decade. Rather, it would be far more intriguing to see a shorter dramatic episode in the subject's life rather than spread the narrative to thin by exploring too long a period of time. For example, would it not have been more interesting to see a week in the life of Johnny Cash than a two decade period? How about the weak that June Carter takes care of him as he fights the symptoms of withdrawal? How about the week where he finally wears down June's emotional defenses and the two succumb to desire for the first time in that hotel room? Having the narrative cover more than a few years forces the film-maker to cut corners and skimp on true drama.
2. Resist the temptation to depict the traumatic childhood of the subject.
Forcing the adult actor portray the subject's attempts to cope with his childhood is far more dramatic and, for that matter, serves narrative economy by cutting scenes with child actors, who usually offer rather weak portrayals of childhood trauma, anyway.
3. Do not feel compelled restage every famous or iconic moment in the subject's life.
Just because there exists an image from a moment of the subject's life that lived in the public imagination before your biopic, that is not a reason to reenact it. In fact, that is a reason not to reenact it. Your recreation of that moment everyone knows and recognizes will inevitably pale in comparison to the original. That's not drama; it's karaoke.
But no biopic can really do justice to a performer. I myself was fortunate enough to see Cash in concert on one other occasion, almost exactly a year later at a private party in Houston, Texas on December 10, 1995. He was scheduled to play in Austin (again at the Erwin Center) on December 4, 1996 (and I had already purchased my tickets) but he canceled because of an illness, specifically, the flu.3 Plans to reschedule the show the following spring during South by Southwest 1997 did not materialize. I do not believe he played in Austin again.
Above: Johnny Cash, performing "Delia's Gone," live in 1994 at Manhattan Center.
Above: Johnny Cash's video for "Rusty Cage," from his 1996 album, Unchained.
Above: Johnny Cash's video for "Hurt," from his 2002 album, American IV: The Man Comes Around. It is fascinating that Trent Reznor essentially conceded that the song is no longer his and that Cash became its new author.
Above: Johny Cash performs "I Walk The Line" from 1959 (at least according to this YouTube entry's description).
1. John T. Davis, "One man, one guitar is enough," Austin American Statesman, December 10, 1994. 2. Ibid. 3. Michael Corcoran and Chris Riemenschneider, "Street Soundz," Austin American Statesman, December 12, 1996.
For charity, and to exhibit some of their newest material, R.E.M. performed at the 40 Watt Club in Athens, Georgia on Thursday, November 19, 1992. Just a month before, the band had released Automatic for the People, arguably the finest album of its career. Two weeks before, Bill Clinton had been elected to the presidency (at whose inaugural R.E.M. would play two months later at an MTV-sponsored event). It was a different time, and a different R.E.M (when perhaps the band was at its most relevant). Writing of the special show, a reporter for the Atlanta Journal Constitution noted:
Athens homeboys R.E.M. opened and closed their 1992 world tour with a single performance Thursday night at their hometown 40 Watt Club. The invitation-only event was a benefit recording for Greenpeace, which set up a solar-powered recording van for the occasion. The band played an 80-minute set for a capacity crowd of 600, showcasing tunes from their new album, "Automatic for the People," including a starkly rhythmic rearrangement of their current hit, "Drive."
"This is an exclusive," announced vocalist Michael Stipe, garbed in his trademark baggy pants and backward fishing cap. He said none of the songs had ever been performed live. Though obviously not too rehearsed, the group gathered steam and wrapped up the show with looselimbed versions of Iggy Pop's "Funtime" and their first recording, "Radio Free Europe." Guitarist Peter Buck, looking madrigal in a Renaissance-era pageboy do, hauled out his folksy acoustic instruments, including mandolin and dulcimer. Somewhere in the back in the dark, a blond woman, alleged to be Kim Basinger, swayed.1
Kim Basinger swayed? The show has been very often bootlegged, under various titles, such as Automatic People, BorealEquinoxia, Consider Life, Live in Athens 1992, It's a Free World, and even Losing My Religion and Man on the Moon. Although they are all mostly the same (save for different bonus tracks), I write today of Automatically Live, the back cover with track list of which is as follows:
In fact, I have included below an annotated track listing, the original album on which the song first appeared, and, just for fun, the banter and stage dialogue of Michael Stipe and Mike Mills, which features stories on alternative titles for "Losing My Religion" and Stipe's inability to remember certain lyrics to certain classic R.E.M. songs.
1. "Drive" (From 1992's Automatic for the People ("AFTP"))
MICHAEL STIPE: Thank you, you're very generous.
2. "Monty Got A Raw Deal" (AFTP) 3. "Everybody Hurts" (AFTP) 4. "Man On The Moon" (AFTP)
STIPE: Thank you, you're very generous. I think Mike has a story to tell. You can use my mic.
MIKE MILLS: Peter and I just spent a week in Israel. We did a couple of days of press in Tel Aviv, and we used the opportunity to rent a Jeep and go riding about the countryside in Israel. We ended up on the Dead Sea at this strange resort hotel called Nirvana, of all things. (Laughter). And we were there talking to our friend, Karen Rose, who used to live here and now lives in Israel. And she said that she deejays sometimes and she wondered why nobody ever requested "Losing My Religion" over there. She asked a friend of hers, "How come nobody asks for 'Losing My Religion'"? And the guy said, "They do, all the time, they just don't know the English - they don't know what to call it, so they always ask for 'Oh, Life.'" (Laughter). So, that was our watch word while we were in Israel. Anytime something would happen, we would go "Oh, life." So now, for you, "Oh, Life."
5. "Losing My Religion" (From 1991's Out of Time) 6. "Country Feedback" (Out of Time)
STIPE: We're going to play four more songs, three of which I don't have the words to. So, I'm going to ask anyone who knows the words really well to please come down to the front. If it looks like I'm faltering, just holler the first word and I'll pick up from there.
MILLS: Holly?
STIPE: You know, my first cue is silence, that's a very important one. Here we go.
7. "Begin The Begin" (From 1986's Life's Rich Pageant ("LRP")
STIPE: I really might need help on this one.
8. "Fall On Me" (LRP)
STIPE: Thank you.
MILLS: Some people think that using the capo is cheating. I'm not one of them.
STIPE: Baby.
MILLS: See, if it's not cheating, it doesn't work.
STIPE: What's that about capos, Mike?
MILLS: See, I hate these things. Okay, it is cheating.
9. "Me In Honey" (Out of Time)
STIPE: Is Gwen O'Looney in the house? This song goes out to Gwen O'Looney.
STIPE: We don't really know what to play now. (People shout requests). We've never played that before. (More shouts for requests). You're going to have to take turns. I can't understand you. We've never played any of those songs before, and we've - actually we haven't played most of the songs that we played tonight before, so this is kind of an exclusive. You should feel very special, because you are special. We're all special. We have a new government. (Cheers.). At least on the national level. I hope everybody here knows that on Tuesday, which is November 24, we have to go and vote for Wyche Fowler for U.S. Senate. He's really a good man. I mean that. This next song has absolutely nothing to do with senatorial races or Wyche Fowler. In fact, I don't even sing lead vocal on it. Mike Mills does.
13. "Fun Time/Radio Free Europe" ("Fun Time" originally recorded by Iggy Pop; "Radio Free Europe" originally appeared on R.E.M.'s debut album, Murmur)
STIPE: Thank you, good night.
14. "Losing My Religion" (Bonus Track from MTV performance).
CONTEXT AND COMMENTARY: From one reason or another, the gig was culturally significant enough to live on in the public memory. Marcus Gray, author of the R.E.M. biography, It Crawled from the South: An R.E.M. Companion, mentions the gig in his book:
Taking a break from acting local in order to think global, on 19 November R.E.M. played only their second show of the year at the 40 Watt Club. It was organised especially for Greenpeace, the organisation using the solar-powered mobile recording studio Cyrus to tape the show. A version of 'Drive", specially funked-up for the occasion, was chosen to join 15 similarly recorded songs by other artists on the compilation album Alternative NRG, released in January 1994.
An Internet poster named Beatcomberdescribed the history and context of the gig in a June 28, 2002 Usenet post:
Before too long a DAT audience recording of the show was put out on bootleg-CD (remember, this was the heyday of CD-bootlegging). If I recall correctly, 'Automatically Live' on the legendary Kiss The Stone imprint (KTS 141) was the first to hit the streets. Countless other discs would follow, the best of which (and the most complete) being 'This Is It' (Red Phantom RPCD 1117). The popularity of the show is hardly surprising, given that the band gave a sterling performance that night and did no other gigging in support of 'Automatic for the People' (the then-current album). To boot, Buck & co were in great spirits, entertaining the homecrowd with amusing in-between banter, AND the available audience recording was remarkably clear (if, ultimately, a bit dull sounding).
In due time, a soundboard recording of the first song played at the gig (a great funked-up version of Drive) appeared on the aforementioned Greenpeace CD (January 1994). The bulk of the show was later released in the form of bonus tracks on the four CD-singles released to promote the Monster album (three tracks apiece). However, while the songs themselves sound incredible (especially 'Country Feedback', which by late 1992 had not yet been turned into the pompous dirge it became during the 'Monster' tour), the end result did not add up to a complete presentation of the show: apart from the first take of 'Drive', one more song was left off (a not particularly strong version of 'Love Is All Around', the Troggs cover which the band had performed so well in acoustic guise during the promo-tour for 'Out Of Time'), as well as the major part of the great chats in between songs.
Remember Usenet FAQs? The rec.music.rem official FAQ (posted on May 10, 1994) mentions the show as well:
On November 19, 1992, R.E.M. gave an invitation-only, solar-powered performance at Athens' 40 Watt Club to record a song for an upcoming Greenpeace album that will promote solar energy. Along with two takes of "Drive" (electric versions, one of which will appear on the album), the band performed "Monty Got a Raw Deal", "Everybody Hurts", and "Man on the Moon", followed by classics including "Losing My Religion", "Begin the Begin", and a "cattle-call" version of "Radio Free Europe". Accompanying R.E.M. was John Keane, who provided assistance on bass, pedal-steel guitar and acoustic guitar. In response to questions about a tour, Peter Buck said: "This is it. This is the tour. And after this we are going to take a long rest." This show has been bootlegged on CD under several titles, the best sounding and most complete version being "We Support Greenpeace." A well-shot video of this performance was also available at one time in the underground market.
Tracks from this performance would also end up as b-sides on future R.E.M. singles. "Country Feedback" and "Losing my Religion" would later appear on the 1995 "Bang and Blame" single. "Drive," "Fun Time," and "Radio Free Europe" would appear on the 1995 "Strange Currencies" single. "Fall on Me," "Me in Honey," and "Finest Worksong" would appear on the 1995 "Crush with Eyeliner" single. "Monty Got a Raw Deal," "Everybody Hurts," and "Man on the Moon" would appear on the 1994 "What's the Frequency, Kenneth?" single.
Just two months after this gig, R.E.M. would play the MTV inaugural ball in Washington, D.C. Gwen O'Looney, to whom Stipe dedicates "Finest Worksong," was the mayor of Athens, Georgia in 1992. Elected the previous year, she served for eight years, all the while receiving the support of the band. (Later this month, O'Looney will participate in a panel discussion sponsored by the Athens Historical Society on the history of R.E.M.). Wyche Fowler, whom Stipe endorses prior to "Love is All Around," was the incumbent Democratic U.S. Senator for the State of Georgia in 1992. On November 3, 1992, Fowler won a plurality of the popular vote, but not the majority, which forced a run-off election, held three weeks later. On November 24, 1992, just five days after this concert, Fowler was defeated by Republican Paul Coverdell, who would die in office eight years later in 2000.
During the band's rendition of Iggy Pop's "Fun Time," Stipe alters the lyrics slightly to note that he saw "Dracula" at the Beachwood Cinema "last night." Bram Stoker's Dracula, featuring Anthony Hopkins, Keanu Reeves, Winona Ryder, and Gary Oldman was released the previous Friday, on November 13, 1992. (One wonders if Stipe returned to the theatre the day following this gig to see Bad Lieutenant, which was released on Friday, November 20, 1992).
Apparently, I am not alone in my 1992 R.E.M. nostalgia. Earlier this month, the popular music blog Stereogum released Drive XV: A Tribute to Automatic for the People, a free online tribute album featuring covers of every song on the 1992 R.E.M. record. It features performances by The Veils, Rogue Wave, the Meat Puppets, The Forms, the Shout Out Louds, and others. You can find its official track list here.
1. O'Briant, Don with contributing writer Steve Dollar. "Peace Buzz: Rice's Tour is delaying her viewing of 'Dracula," Atlanta Journal Constitution, November 20, 1992.
Photographs of Anthony Keidis and Flea of the Red Hot Chili Peppers, taken during the band's ninety minute set at Lollapalooza '92, on Saturday, September 5, 1992 at the Fort Bend County Fairgrounds in Rosenberg, Texas (just outside of Houston, Texas).
After the show, Marty Racine of the Houston Chronicle summed up the Peppers' set as follows:
Headliner the Red Hot Chili Peppers (10:30-midnight) are a Houston favorite, having appeared here in such diverse venues as Rockefeller's, the Unicorn and the Ensemble Warehouse.
Touring behind "Blood Sugar Sex Magik," the Peps have endured the death of their original guitarist, the sudden departure of "his" replacement, and doubts about their own sincerity (due, in part, to their tendency to perform in various stages of undress) to emerge as the dean of white funk rock groups.
The emergence, too, of rap has been good for the Peppers. The high strut has been accepted into the group's attitude and spat out alongside the hard beats. Now, few doubt the band's commitment to the trinity of funk and its place near or at the top of alternative -- safely secured until the sixth or seventh rock 'n' roll generation displaces it.1
What, if anything, does this review say about the show? I've been picking on Racine's reviews in my series of posts on Lollapalooza '92, but really, the three paragraphs above read as if he did not even attend the Peppers' set. No specific information is provided about the Peppers' performance that night; no songs are mentioned, no stage banter is recounted, and no characterization of their stage antics is offered. (He doesn't even mention the fact that at the show the Peppers donned helmets with flames shooting out of the top.). He refers to the death of Hillel Slovak and the departure of his replacement John Frusciante but identifies neither by name. Considering Racine's lax review of Ice Cube's performance, and the reference to the late hour of the Peppers' set, it may be that Racine simply left the concert early to avoid the inevitable traffic from Rosenburg back to Houston. If so, what kind of review is that?
In the early 1990s, the Red Hot Chili Peppers were at the height of popularity with their album, Blood Sugar Sex Magik. One could not turn on MTV for half an hour without seeing the video for that album's "Under the Bridge" at least twice. (Time was, one could also raise eyebrows if one, upon discovering that CD in a jukebox, played "Sir Psycho Sexy."). After 1992, though, it was really all downhill for the Red Hot Chili Peppers. There were, of course, hints of their downfall before then (including Flea's appearance in the dreadful Back to the Future sequels), but it was only after 1992 that the band fully committed to its downward slide. 1993 gave us the awful and soulless "Soul to Squeeze," a non-album single which they contributed, to of all the things, the soundtrack to the Coneheads film. Their 1995 album One Hot Minute was forgettable and paled in comparison to that which came before, and by the time the Californication album was released in 1999, one wondered if it was truly the same band. Though they've remained popular, but they've lost all relevance, which is a sad fate for any entertainer. But no one knew that was what the future held in store for the band as he headlined Lollapalooza '92 fifteen years ago. And, yes, the photographs above were indeed taken by me, using my photo pass.
1. Racine, Marty. " Lollapalooza!/The music is a decidedly hip, high-strung hybrid of rap, funk and hard, linear beats, laced with a requisite dose of attitude. 'Lots' of 'tude/New generation finds its alternative," Houston Chronicle, September 7, 1992.
Photograph of Ice Cube, taken during his set at Lollapalooza '92, on Saturday, September 5, 1992 at the Fort Bend County Fairgrounds in Rosenberg, Texas (just outside of Houston, Texas).
In my Lollapalooza '92 posts, I've been quoting the original concert review of Marty Racine of the Houston Chronicle. He summed up Ice Cube's set as follows:
By evening the program's pace had been derailed by about 20 minutes, and it was left to Ice Cube (7:35-8:20 p.m.) to appear after a quick 15-minute break and restore the schedule.
Now, we can all argue about whether rap is music. It lacks certain sonic elements but is still based on composition. Call it poetry (of the streets), performed, like all live poetry, with an emphasis on cadence. Regardless, Cube's appearance made the necessary connection to black pop culture, in turn providing a legitimacy to alternative rock and its claim on the fifth or sixth rock generation.
Cube and his army got down with the four-syllable cuss words, but the mood was more celebratory than angry. Thousands of pale fists pumped the air as Cube went strutting, the affair turning into pure pop theater. And when Cube rousted a rap-along with the crowd that pretty much dissed Cube himself, we found the Ice Man to be of fine humor.1
At least in 1992 I could admit I knew nothing about Ice Cube, or even rap in general. Reading Racine's review fifteen years later, it seems that he desperately attempted to muster three vague and general paragraphs about a performer about whom he knew very, very little (all the while refusing to admit his lack of knowledge). Note that no album or song by Ice Cube is mentioned by specifically by name, nor is his association with N.W.A. (Of course, Racine didn't have ready access to the Wikipedia back in September of 1992, but that's no excuse for trying to disguise one's ignorance of a performer as social or musical commentary.).
And, yes, the photograph above was indeed taken by me, using my photo pass.
1. Racine, Marty. " Lollapalooza!/The music is a decidedly hip, high-strung hybrid of rap, funk and hard, linear beats, laced with a requisite dose of attitude. 'Lots' of 'tude/New generation finds its alternative," Houston Chronicle, September 7, 1992.
Photographs of Chris Cornell and Kim Thayil of Soundgarden, taken during the band's 55 minute set at Lollapalooza '92, on Saturday, September 5, 1992 at the Fort Bend County Fairgrounds in Rosenberg, Texas (just outside of Houston, Texas).
Back then, Soundgarden was a bigger draw than Pearl Jam and many of the other acts which appeared on the bill at Lollapalooza '92. They had been around longer, had released more albums, and had even produced a Spinal Tap cover sometime in the late 1980s. Heck, they had to have had at least some indie street cred to have appeared on the 1990 soundtrack to Christian Slater's Pump Up The Volume, right? After the show, Marty Racine of the Houston Chronicle summed up Soundgarden's set as follows:
Soundgarden (6:25-7:20 p.m.) is credited with establishing the buzzword "Seattle Scene," developed years after the city had produced such other national entities as Queensryche. It offers a bottom-heavy sonic attack that sludges through the muck of metallic riffing, turning every lick into high melodrama. Touring behind the new "Badmotorfinger," band members culled doses of "Louder Than Love" and perhaps their best disc, "Temple of the Dog," into their most persuasive set I've heard. They easily surpassed their tedious set at The Summit in January opening for Guns N' Roses.1
In 1992, Soundgarden was perhaps at its peak, artistically, although it still had commercial success two years in its future with the 1994 release of Superunknown, an album which spawned way too many radio friendly hits for a band with such roots. (If you were in Austin in the mid-1990s, you could not escape the KLBJ-FM television ad featuring "Spoonman."). The 1992 tour was in support of 1991's far better, far more original Badmotorfinger (which, if you were lucky, came accompanied by a second disc, the EPSatanoscillatemymetallicsonatas (or SOMMS). In the pre-Internet days, it was a coup to discover such a rarity existed, much less that it could be found at your local record store.
As Racine mentioned, before Lollapalooza '92, Soundgarden last played Houston in January of 1992 opening for Guns N' Roses at The Summit. (It seems as if the reference in his review is thrown in there only to alert the reader that yes, he did indeed attend the earlier show, and isn't he above it all of finding it tedious.). By coincidence, the very day before Lollapalooza '92, Guns N' Roses also returned to Houston with Metallica and Faith No More for a show at the Astrodome. Many Houstonians attended both that and Lollapalooza. (Soundgarden would play Houston's Astrohall arena in July of 1994 and not play "Outshined.").
I didn't bother to check to see if the Chronicle ran a correction, but "Temple of the Dog" was most definitely not a Soundgarden record. It was the self-titled and only album by a group featuring Cornell, Stone Gossard, Jeff Ament, Mike McCready, Matt Cameron and Eddie Vedder. Of the six members, only Cornell and Cameron were of Soundgarden, the rest being with Pearl Jam. (How amusing it is to discover a fifteen year old error.).
I couldn't tell you without looking it up when exactly the band fell apart, but I know they did, and that their last work with which I was truly familiar came in 1994. I understand that Cornell later fronted Audioslave, but by that point, I couldn't have cared. And, yes, the photographs above were indeed taken by me, using my photo pass.
1. Racine, Marty. " Lollapalooza!/The music is a decidedly hip, high-strung hybrid of rap, funk and hard, linear beats, laced with a requisite dose of attitude. 'Lots' of 'tude/New generation finds its alternative," Houston Chronicle, September 7, 1992.
Photograph of Eddie Vedder of Pearl Jam, taken during the band's 50 minute set at Lollapalooza '92, on Saturday, September 5, 1992 at the Fort Bend County Fairgrounds in Rosenberg, Texas (just outside of Houston, Texas).
The first Lollapalooza skipped Houston for Dallas, but a year later, the mistake was rectified. In 1992, promoters estimated the Houston Lollapalooza crowd at 32,5000, while law enforcement guessed higher at 50,000 (only ten of whom were arrested).1 After the show, Marty Racine of the Houston Chronicle summed up Pearl Jam's set as follows:
Pearl Jam (4:05-4:55 p.m.) was this listener's favorite band of the day. Look for these guys to break out in 1993. Hailing from Seattle's celebrated alternative scene from the remnants of Green River and Mother Love Bone, this group went rocking without pretense -- a precious commodity on this day -- ending with a rollicking jam (joined by members of fellow Seattle band Soundgarden) of Neil Young's "Keep On Rockin' in the Free World."2
It's difficult to imagine Eddie Vedder without at least some pretense. And break out in 1993 the band did, although in my memory, the band had already achieved a great level of success by September of 1992, at least for a new band. After all, Ten, its debut album, had been released over a year before in August of 1991 (although Wikipedia's entry on the album notes that it "took over a year to become a success."). I never understood why Pearl Jam was so closely associated with Nirvana and Soundgarden during the great grunge explosion of the early 1990s. Sure, Pearl Jam, like the other two bands, hailed from Seattle, but the musical similarities really end there. (To boot, Pearl Jam and Soundgarden did both tour as part of Lollapalooza '92.). However, Pearl Jam had more of a traditional and rootsier rock sound than the punk-influenced grunge of Kurt Cobain or Chris Cornell. That said, Ten was a marvelous record, and I listened to it ever so often in those days. I believe that I purchased the record shortly after hearing "Alive," but the slower, more melancholy "Black" became my favorite song from the album. Despite the fact that I've heard the songs so many times since then that they should be drained of any meaningful level of nostalgia, I still hearken back to the early 1990s whenever I happen to hear one of the album's tracks. Any excuse to hearken back to then is welcome. And, yes, the photograph above was indeed taken by me, using my photo pass.
1. Mason, Julie. "Traffic, parking costs, arrests part of Lollapalooza concert," Houston Chronicle, September 7, 1992. 2. Racine, Marty. " Lollapalooza!/The music is a decidedly hip, high-strung hybrid of rap, funk and hard, linear beats, laced with a requisite dose of attitude. 'Lots' of 'tude/New generation finds its alternative," Houston Chronicle, September 7, 1992. (emphasis added).
Behold, a 1992 Lollapalooza Festival Photograph Pass, used on Saturday, September 5, 1992 at the Fort Bend County Fairgrounds in Rosenberg, Texas (just outside of Houston, Texas). Note the date stamps indicating usage, just above the band name abbreviations. Among the acts that played that day on the main stage were Pearl Jam, Red Hot Chili Peppers, Soundgarden, Ministry, Ice Cube, the Jesus and Mary Chain, and Lush. Interestingly, just a day before, on Friday, September 4, 1992, Metallica and Guns N' Roses, with opening act Faith No More, played the Astrodome as a part of their stadium tour. What a weekend for concerts it was, fifteen years ago this month.
Thirty-something suffering from nostalgia but, thankfully, not from bouts of irony. Here, I will revisit artifacts of popular culture not sufficiently explored elsewhere, though I may perhaps stray from that mission at times.
Click the image above to review Chronological Snobbery's in-depth coverage of the tenth anniversary of the 1998 film, Zero Effect, starring Bill Pullman and Ben Stiller
High Fidelity (2000 - 2010)
Click the image above to review Chronological Snobbery's in-depth coverage of the tenth anniversary of the 2000 film, High Fidelity, starring John Cusack and Jack Black.
