Owning Up To It

@sns From the looks of things, more than a few of your brain cells made it though it pretty good shape.

Mine goes something like this:

Texas International Music Festival, Dallas, TX 1969. After BB King’s gig, we were tired and began the hike back to the tent we pitched the night before for a quick lunch and to recharge our batteries (no, not our cell phones). On the hike back, we heard some commotion off to the right and saw a bunch of people in the lake. We took a few steps towards the lake and noticed that the people in the lake didn’t have any clothes on. Moving even nearer to the water, a closer inspection revealed the torso of a young lady, waste deep in water who could have graced the cover of that month’s Playboy magazine.

They say: "you can can’t blame a compass for pointing north" and our compasses were definittely pointing north. We were naked in the water faster than an air bag on a Ford and spent the next hour, or so, taking in the sights and sounds (mostly sights) of skinny dipping. We, then, made our way to the tent, cleaned up a litlte, wolfed down some chow, and pointed our feet back in the direction of the venue.

We got there just in time to see the band we just missed packing up their gear and heading off stage. A few days later, on the return trip home, we were reliving the good times we had while reviewing the schedule of the great bands at the venue. It was then, that we discovered the band we missed while we were skinny dipping -- Led Zeppelin!!!

I probably would have had fond memories of experiencing Led Zeppelin live -- on stage. But, one things for certain, I’ll NEVER forget the skiiny dipping.

@waytoomuchstuff Talk about being distracted! Reminds me of working in restaurants back in the day, work pool parties at apartment complexes always turned into nudist colony fun until the cops came. Can't believe some people didn't appreciate the diving board shenanigans!

One time I had choice between The Who and Led Z, chose The Who, just when Quadrophenia  was coming out, never experienced a more silent mesmerized audience, simply awesome.

How about unforgettable moment? ;-)

In late 1968 I went to see Jeff Beck during his first solo U.S.A. tour (he’d already been over with The Yardbirds), after the release of his great Truth album, which I loved. I also loved his band on that album, who were also his road band at that time. I finally got to hear Nicky Hopkins live, whose piano playing I had long admired (especially on the early Kinks albums). I also really liked the drumming of Micky Waller, whose looks reminded me of actor Wally Cox (you youngins may not be familiar with the name). Playing a Telecaster bass (or was it one of those rare 1950’s very-early P-basses?) was some guy with a goofy hairdo and a huge nose (I’m sure you know it was Ronnie Wood), who was passable (I already had fairly high standards, my idea of a great bassist being Englishmen Paul McCartney, John Entwistle, and Jack Bruce, and Americans Bob Mosley, Jack Casady, and Phil Lesh. That was before I "got" the playing of James Jamerson, Rick Danko, Duck Dunn, and David Hood ;-) .

But this story involves the singer, who like the bassist had one of those Woody Woodpecker hairdos (what is it with British Rock stars and their ridiculous hair?). Part way into the set, the band played a song with an extended guitar solo. With nothing to do, the singer wandered back to the guitar rack, picked up and strapped on one of them, and started strumming chords.

Jeff, seeing this, stopped playing, just staring at the singer with the most intense look of contempt I have ever seen. He slowly sauntered over to his mic and said: "The f*cking thing isn’t even plugged in. Bloody wanker". The singer sheepishly removed the guitar and returned it to the rack. Hilarious!

The singer was, of course, Rod Stewart. Never cared for him myself.

@bdp24 Keyboardists just don't command the respect that hot guitar players do.  Everything Nicki Hopkins touched benefited from his presence.  Even the later QMS material.

@waytoomuchstuff: I just saw/heard NRBQ live, and Terry Adams remains an amazing keyboardist. He is a very physical player, pounding the keys (electric piano and clavichord, organ) like Little Richard and/or Jerry Lee Lewis, but with the influences of Thelonius Monk and Sun Ra. His sense of humour and fun is very rare in the world of modern Rock music, which takes itself SO seriously (too much Steely Dan, not enough Rubinoos ;-).

NRBQ's current drummer (the replacement for longtime drummer Tom Ardolino, who died about a decade back) and Terry play off one another, trading bars of straight-vs-swing feel between themselves (piano playing straight time against the drums swinging for one bar, the drums playing straight time against swinging piano the next), a thing common in Jazz but rarely heard in Rock 'n' Roll. All four players also understand how to create tension-and-release, a trademark ability amongst the best ensemble bands.

And the pace of their 2-hour long set was amazing! No long pauses between songs, just one song blasting off as the last was ending. Not a dull moment the entire set! Great lyrics too, also alive with a sense of humour. I'll bet Terry Adams is great company!