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Ken

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Everything posted by Ken

  1. Happy to help Phil.... Let 'Em In Paul McCartney & Wings Someone's Knockin' At The Door. Somebody's Ringin' The Bell. Someone's Knockin' At The Door. Somebody's Ririgin' The Bell. Do Me A Favor, Open The Door And Let 'Em In. Sister Suzie, Brother John, Martin Luther, Phil And Don, Brother Michael, Auntie Gin, Open The Door And Let 'Em In. Someone's Knockin' At The Door. Somebody's Ringin' The Bell. Someone's Knockin' At The Door. Somebody's Ringin' The Bell. Do Me A Favor, Open The Door And Let 'Em In.
  2. That sounds suspiciously like Pearl Jam's remake of "Last Kiss". I realize you said 'family', "Daddy's car" is mentioned and that is what leads me to the conclusion. Here are the lyrics... Oh where, oh where can my baby be? The Lord took her away from me. She's gone to heaven, so I've got to be good, So I can see my baby when I leave this world. We were out on a date in my daddy's car, we hadn't driven very far. There in the road, straight ahead, a car was stalled, the engine was dead. I couldn't stop, so I swerved to the right. I'll never forget, the sound that night-- the screamin tires, the bustin glass, the painful scream that I-- heard last. Oh where, oh where can my baby be? The Lord took her away from me. She's gone to heaven, so I've got to be good, So I can see my baby when I leave this world. When I woke up, the rain was pourin down. There were people standin all around. Somethin warm flowin through my eyes, but somehow I found my baby that night. I lifted her head, she looked at me and said, "Hold me darlin just a little while." I held her close, I kissed her--our last kiss. I found the love that i knew i had missed well now she's gone, even though I hold her tight I lost my love, my life-- that night. Oh where, oh where can my baby be? The Lord took her away from me. She's gone to heaven so I've got to be good, So I can see my baby when I leave this world. Hope that helped, Ken.
  3. Playing a billion notes al la Malmsteen, Vai, et al, might be cool to some but to me it sounds like an angry mosquito. I'd rather hear a chord that cracks your ribs. Stacked up against, say, Deep Purple's "Smoke On The Water", it doesn't sound as good. Don't start flaming if you are a VaiMalmsteenRhoadesWhoever fan. I don't mean any disrespect. If you like it, that's great. But for me, 3 chord blues-based rock and roll is always going to have that nasty gritty sound I've always identified with 'rock'. Malmsteen and Vai, (I can comment on Gilbert, I've never heard the music) seem like they want to play a squillion quarter-notes in one measure. In doing that, they lose me. Maybe I am just slow.... Ken.
  4. Surviving by not overdosing on drugs and snuffing out talent is better. I meant no harm, I was only kidding around. There are lots of guitarists I enjoy. While talent may count for a lot, attitude and flash sure go a long way. Ken.
  5. And Dusty? I am a die-hard Kiss Fan. Ever see Dimebag's tattoo? It's Ace Frehley. I win. Ken.
  6. Well, to discuss 'best' we should set up some parameters as to what would define 'best'. That they can sell out 500,000 seat stadiums repetitively, have a career that spans some 30+ years and make 20+ albums that all have an instantly recognizeable sound. To do worldwide tours, smoke 2 packs of cigarettes a day, go out there playing blistering solos while jiggling like a schoolboy pitching a tantrum. And to have people tattoo your likeness on their bodies. If that doesn't make you the best, you are certainly in the 'best' category. Yes. Angus Young, the best. Ken.
  7. Sigh.... Why do I always have to cut through the crap and be the one that brings in the 'be all and end all' of these debates? The greatest guitarist is the one everyone wants to be, the one who doesn't stop until the tank is empty. Rock On, indeed..... Ken.
  8. Most of the aforementioned guitarists had the advantage of electricity, technical wizardry, and some good guitars. Strip all that away, and the guitarist all those guys will tell you they worship is a man known as Robert Johnson. The man played as though the hellhounds were right behind him... Ken.
  9. Rent the DVD "AC/DC- Stiff Upper Lip- LIVE". Burn "The Jack" into your head, note for note, lick for lick. It's one of those songs that gets the crowd into it, and you'll be remembered for years. Just remember to lose your mind while you are playing the solos. Act as if you are channeling some tortured guitar demon through your Marshall which is whacked all the way up to 10, and make sure the bassist and the drummer are locked in unison. Ken.
  10. Thanks Peachy..... Nice to be noticed! Sometimes the old 'Stairway or Freebird' arguements (or variations thereof) get a bit worn. To that extent, I'll quote David Byrne, of the Talking Heads. "When I have nothing to say, my lips are sealed. Say one thing once, why say it again? Psycho Killer, "Stop Making Sense" Warm Regards, Ken Not a Psycho Killer
  11. Sigh........... Only because it is expected of me... (Drumroll...) And the greatest bassist of them all IS!!! Ken....
  12. Hi Svor.... What you are referring to sounds suspiciously like "Wear Sunscreen". Here are the words, I hope this helps. If I could offer you only one tip for the future, sunscreen would be it. The long-term benefits of sunscreen have been proved by scientists, whereas the rest of my advice has no basis more reliable than my own meandering experience. I will dispense this advice now. Enjoy the power and beauty of your youth. Oh, never mind. You will not understand the power and beauty of your youth until they've faded. But trust me, in 20 years, you'll look back at photos of yourself and recall in a way you can't grasp now how much possibility lay before you and how fabulous you really looked. You are not as fat as you imagine. Don't worry about the future. Or worry, but know that worrying is as effective as trying to solve an algebra equation by chewing bubble gum. The real troubles in your life are apt to be things that never crossed your worried mind, the kind that blindside you at 4 p.m. on some idle Tuesday. Do one thing every day that scares you. Sing. Don't be reckless with other people's hearts. Don't put up with people who are reckless with yours. Floss. Don't waste your time on jealousy. Sometimes you're ahead, sometimes you're behind. The race is long and, in the end, it's only with yourself. Remember compliments you receive. Forget the insults. If you succeed in doing this, tell me how. Keep your old love letters. Throw away your old bank statements. Stretch. Don't feel guilty if you don't know what you want to do with your life. The most interesting people I know didn't know at 22 what they wanted to do with their lives. Some of the most interesting 40-year-olds I know still don't. Get plenty of calcium. Be kind to your knees. You'll miss them when they're gone. Maybe you'll marry, maybe you won't. Maybe you'll have children, maybe you won't. Maybe you'll divorce at 40, maybe you'll dance the funky chicken on your 75th wedding anniversary. Whatever you do, don't congratulate yourself too much, or berate yourself either. Your choices are half chance. So are everybody else's. Enjoy your body. Use it every way you can. Don't be afraid of it or of what other people think of it. It's the greatest instrument you'll ever own. Dance, even if you have nowhere to do it but your living room. Read the directions, even if you don't follow them. Do not read beauty magazines. They will only make you feel ugly. Get to know your parents. You never know when they'll be gone for good. Be nice to your siblings. They're your best link to your past and the people most likely to stick with you in the future. Understand that friends come and go, but with a precious few you should hold on. Work hard to bridge the gaps in geography and lifestyle, because the older you get, the more you need the people who knew you when you were young. Live in New York City once, but leave before it makes you hard. Live in Northern California once, but leave before it makes you soft. Travel. Accept certain inalienable truths: Prices will rise. Politicians will philander. You, too, will get old. And when you do, you'll fantasize that when you were young, prices were reasonable, politicians were noble and children respected their elders. Respect your elders. Don't expect anyone else to support you. Maybe you have a trust fund. Maybe you'll have a wealthy spouse. But you never know when either one might run out. Don't mess too much with your hair or by the time you're 40 it will look 85. Be careful whose advice you buy, but be patient with those who supply it. Advice is a form of nostalgia. Dispensing it is a way of fishing the past from the disposal, wiping it off, painting over the ugly parts and recycling it for more than it's worth. But trust me on the sunscreen. Regards, Ken.
  13. I've also grown up reading Robert W. Service. For your enjoyment.... "THE SHOOTING OF DAN MCGREW" A bunch of the boys were whooping it up in the Malamute saloon; The kid that handles the music-box was hitting a jag-time tune; Back at the bar, in a solo game, sat Dangerous Dan McGrew, And watching his luck was his light-o'-love, the lady that's known as Lou. When out of the night, which was fifty below, and into the din and the glare, There stumbled a miner fresh from the creeks, dog dirty, and loaded for bear. He looked like a man with a foot in the grave, and scarcely the strength of a louse, Yet he tilted a poke of dust on the bar, and he called for drinks on the house. There was none could place the stranger's face, though we searched ourselves for a clue; But we drank his health, and the last to drink was Dangerous Dan McGrew. There's men that somehow just grip your eyes, and hold them hard like a spell; And such was he, and he looked to me like a man who had lived in hell; With a face most hair, and the dreary stare of a dog whose day is done, As he watered the green stuff in his glass, and the drops fell one by one. Then I got to figgering who he was, and wondering what he'd do, And I turned my head -- and there watching him was the lady that's known as Lou. His eyes went rubbering round the room, and he seemed in a kind of daze, Till at last that old piano fell in the way of his wondering gaze. The rag-time kid was having a drink; there was no one else on the stool, So the stranger stumbles across the room, and flops down there like a fool. In a buckskin shirt that was glazed with dirt he sat, and I saw him sway; Then he clutched the keys with his talon hands -- my God! but that man could play! Were you ever out in the great alone, when the moon was awful clear, And the icy mountains hemmed you in with a silence you most could hear; With only the howl of a timber wolf, and you camped there in the cold, A half-dead thing in the stark, dead world, clean mad for the muck called gold; While high overhead, green, yellow and red, the North Lights swept in bars -- Then you've got a hunch what the music meant ... hunger and night and the stars. And hunger not of the belly kind, that's banished with bacon and beans; But the gnawing hunger of lonely men for a home and all that it means; For a fireside far from the cares that are, four walls and a roof above; But oh! so cramful of cosy joy, and crowned with a woman's love; A woman dearer than all the world, and true as Heaven is true -- (God! how ghastly she looks through her rouge, -- the lady that's known as Lou.) Then all of a sudden the music changed, so soft that you scarce could hear; But you felt that your life had been looted clean of all that it once held dear; That someone had stolen the woman you loved; that her love was a devil's lie; That your guts were gone, and the best of you was to crawl away and die. 'Twas the crowning cry of a heart's despair, and it thrilled you through and through -- "I guess I'll make it a spread misere," said Dangerous Dan McGrew. The music almost died away ... then it burst like a pent-up flood; And it seemed to say, "Repay, repay," and my eyes were blind with blood. The thought came back of an ancient wrong, and it stung like a frozen lash, And the lust awoke to kill, to kill ... then the music stopped with a crash, And the stranger turned, and his eyes they burned in a most peculiar way; In a buckskin shirt that was glazed with dirt he sat, and I saw him sway; Then his lips went in in a kind of a grin, and he spoke, and his voice was calm; And, "Boys," says he, "you don't know me, and none of you care a damn; But I want to state, and my words are straight, and I'll bet my poke they're true, That one of you is a hound of hell ... and that one is Dan McGrew." Then I ducked my head, and the lights went out, and two guns blazed in the dark; And a woman screamed, and the lights went up, and two men lay stiff and stark; Pitched on his head, and pumped full of lead, was Dangerous Dan McGrew, While the man from the creeks lay clutched to the breast of the Lady that's known as Lou. These are the simple facts of the case, and I guess I ought to know; They say that the stranger was crazed with "hooch," and I'm not denying it's so. I'm not so wise as the lawyer guys, but strictly between us two -- The woman that kissed him -- and pinched his poke -- was the lady that's known as Lou. By Robert Wm. Service (1874-1958).
  14. I've always been fond of the works of e.e. cummings. This is one of my favorites. somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond any experience, your eyes have their silence: in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me, or which i cannot touch because they are too near your slightest look will easily unclose me though i have closed myself as fingers, you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens (touching skilfully, mysteriously) her first rose or if your wish be to close me, i and my life will shut very beautifully ,suddenly, as when the heart of this flower imagines the snow carefully everywhere descending; nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals the power of your intense fragility:whose texture compels me with the color of its countries, rendering death and forever with each breathing (i do not know what it is about you that closes and opens;only something in me understands the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses) nobody,not even the rain,has such small hands
  15. Ahhhh, but some drummers sit..... higher than others... Heeeeeheeeeeeeeee.
  16. Hi Christine. Welcome to Songfacts! I believe the song you are looking for is from Hamilton, Joe, Frank and Reynolds, a blast from the '70's. Here are the lyrics. Baby, baby, fallin' in love I'm fallin' in love again Baby, baby, fallin' in love I'm fallin' in love again I could never see what fate had meant for me, And then, you came and made my dreams match reality Maybe you can see all the things you've been to me But my simple fate is at the gate, and, girl, you've got the key CHORUS It seems like yesterday you and I first loved this way But now, I know how love can grow with each and every day As we lay at midnight's hour and feel love's hidden power So strong and bold as life unfolds its mystery to me CHORUS You and me for eternity, in love, we'll always be Young and free and that should be the way it's gotta be CHORUS (repeat and fade out) I hope this helps. Ken.
  17. The song you are referring to is "Goin' Down Slow". I've had my fun If I don't get well no more I've had my fun, people, If I don't get well no more My health is fallin' on me Yes, and I'm going down slow I want you to write my mother and tell her the shape I'm in Oh please write my mother, tell her the shape I'm in I want you tell her to pray for me, people Well, to forgive for my sins On that next train South, mother You can look for my clothes on On that next train South, mother You can look for my clothes on Yes, I had my fun, mother, this is all in prayers Yes, I had my fun, people, mother, this is all in prayers Yes, if you don't see this old body, mother You know I'm gone out of this world somewhere.
  18. Ken arrives in an explosively loud Hawaiian shirt, Red Stripe beer cradled loosely in one hand, and a devil-may-care grin. Oddly enough, there is a gentleman behind him wearing a paper bag over his head. No one asks about the gentleman. Mike, just having returned from his para-sail excursion is making his way unsteadily to the outdoor bar for an Island Hopper (six shots of booze over lemonade). Catherine and Sara are deep in discussion about organza or chiffon, topics not only off limits to men, but light-years beyond their mere mortal comprehension. Marcus has been staring at the paper bag clad gentleman, and has begun a conversation with the soft-spoken fellow. The ubiquitous Caribbean wind carries the conversation away from everyone, but Marcus' eyes are getting steadily larger by the second. Down the beach a piece, Peachy is telling Bluesboy she is simply not interested in seeing his 'special piercing'. Amy continues to look cool, calm and utterly spectacular lying on the lounger. Somewhere in the background, Van Morrison's "Tupelo Honey" can be heard playing on a boombox. Mike, having returned with a fresh cold re-load has started a conversation with Ken (and his loud shirt). "Don't start with that Night Moves sh** again!", Ken, in tears, telling him that Lulu hasn't the musical talent of William Hung. This, dissolving Mike into apile of giggles. Suddenly, Marcus can be heard yelling "Dear Sweet Jesus". The paper-bag clad man has had the wind carry his disguise off. Standing there on the beach is a well tanned, still dangerous looking................... Elvis Presley. In all the commotion, no one notices the ominous six foot fin that has emerged from the turquoise waters behind an oblivious Cyberdemon.
  19. Hank Williams, Sr. by my definition is country. I think you actually have to work on a farm, milk a cow, lose a crop to rain, and endure real hardship in order for it to be 'real' country. Shania's biggest hardship is a broken fingernail. Ken.
  20. For whatever reasons, I have always considered these to be great summer songs: Pointer Sisters: "Slow Hand" and "Fire". Robert Palmer: "Dr. Dr. (Bad Case Of Loving You)" The Eagles "Long Run" Nat King Cole "Lazy Crazy Hazy Days Of Summer" Bob Seger "Night Moves" *Santo and Johnny "Sleepwalk" UB40 "Red Red Wine" Mungo Jerry "In The Summertime" Bobby Bloom "Montego Bay" Johnny Nash "Hold Me Tight" and "I Can See Clearly Now" Bob Seger "The Horizontal Bop" Eddie and the Cruisers "Boardwalk Angel" and "On The Dark Side". (actually, John Cafferty and Beaver Brown) Dr. Hook "When You're In Love With A Beautiful Woman" Van McCoy & the Soul City Symphony - "The Hustle" Charlie Daniels - "Uneasy Rider" Ray Stevens - "The Streak" Harry Belafonte "Jump In The Line, Matilda, and Day-O (or Star-O)" Van Morrison "Tupelo Honey" and "Into The Mystic" And finally........ Jimmy Buffett and the Coral Reefer Band- Margaritaville, Get Drunk And Screw, Fruitcakes, Barefoot Children In The Rain, Far Side Of The World, Fins, Beach House On The Moon, Floridays, Trying To Reason With The Hurricane Season, Coconut Telegraph, Ragtop Day, Lovely Cruise, Banana Wind, Vampires Mummies And The Holy Ghost, Manana, Jolly Mon Sing, Treat Her Like A Lady, Changes In Latitudes- Changes In Attitudes, Boat Drinks, One Particular Harbor, A Pirate Looks At 40, Grapefruit Juicyfruit, Tin Cup Chalice, Stars On The Water, 5:00 Somewhere, The Weather Is Here (wish you were beautiful), Pencil Thin Mustache, I Heard I Was In Town, and Jamaica Mistakea. *I don't care what ANYONE says, "Sleepwalk" is THE summer song.
  21. Ken

    Motown.

    Peachy, makes me wish I lived in the 'States sometimes. HMV soaked me for 39.00 plus tax last weekend. Ah well, it was worth it. The song I used to sing my infant son was Seger's "Jody Girl", to the same effect.... Have a peaceful weekend. Ken.
  22. Ken

    Motown.

    I picked up the DVD "Standing In The Shadows Of Motown", and it's probably one of the best music documentaries I have ever seen. It focuses on the musicians responsible for the "Motown Sound". A tight-knit band of musicians known then (and now) as the "Funk Brothers". They weren't really acknowledged in the heyday of Motown, forty years later this documentary was made to correct that. The original singers of the songs have been left out, replaced with some lesser known singers as to let the spotlight really shine on the musicians themselves. Me'Shell Ndegeocello knocks the living hell out of Smokey Robinson's "You've Really Got A Hold On Me", and Ben Harper does a surprisingly soulful "Ain't Too Proud To Beg". His performance of this song makes you really believe he's singing it to an individual woman as opposed to an audience. Joan Osborne does a passable, (if not somewhat, whitebread, blue-eyed soul) version of "(Love Is Like A) Heat Wave". Myself, I prefer Martha Reeve's version. More powerful. Gutsy. Bootsy Collins (ex Parliament Funkadelic) does a good cover of the Contour's "Do You Love Me" in a 'you have to see it to believe it' blue sequinned jumpsuit, top hat, and star shaped sunglasses. Chaka Khan (and her hair) does a velvet-y cover of Marvin Gaye's "What?s Going On?" and does it proud. It (the DVD) was special for me as, Detroit is only 15 minutes from my home. "Hitsville U.S.A" is only about 25 minutes. Berry Gordy created magic in that house. And Smokey Robinson will forever be one of Soul's most authoritive voices. Makes today's offerings seem cheap, contrived, and just plain shabby. I'm glad to have this in my collection as a counterpoint to the poor offerings floating around lately. If you are a fan of Motown, or even curious as to how it all started, this is a must for your collection. Ken.
  23. The "Clapton-Hendrix-Page-SRV" et. al guitarist debate has been beaten solid into the ground. Generally, I won't make comment because most are passionate about their favorite axe-slinger. But honestly. For true, real axemanship, Dick Dale can tear shreds out of most of those guys. I am willing to bet most of the younger aficionados haven't heard of Dick Dale. Fair enough. He is considered the father of surf guitar. That, at times muted, other times chiming, staccato, clicky, Fender reverb soaked sound. If you download music, check out "Miserlou" or "The Victor". In "The Victor" he blasts straight into the stratosphere playing notes that leave other guitarists wondering how the hell he did that. If you find that you like Dale's style, also check out a 60's era band by the name of "The Chantays". Their song 'Pipeline' has the nastiest slide run I have ever heard. You'll feel it straight down your spine. The sound at the beginning is a Fender Reverb amp being shaken violently, the sound was produced by the reverb coils rocking back and forth. Also notable in this 'guitar' genre are the Surfaris, the Chantays, and The Tornadoes. Ken.
  24. I saw everyone's rating nosedive (mine included) and thought someone must be mad about something... Ah well, they are only stars. I think all of the regulars here are 5 stars in my book, so it doesn't really matter much. Have a superfine day. Ken.
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