Legacy Recordings

Yes, this was shamelessly ripped from Gothamist. But it made me laugh, and I hope it makes you laugh too.

Rumors are now circulating that both Led Zeppelin and Metallica will play next summer’s Bonnaroo Music Festival in Manchester, TN. The rumor was sparked by an anonymous reader of Bob Lefsetz’s The Lefsetz Letter. The tip alleged that an official Led Zeppelin announcement would follow the band’s upcoming reunion concert in London on December 10th.  Led Zeppelin’s London performance will aid the Ahmet Ertegun Education Fund.

At this time, no official source has confirmed either band’s involvement with the annual four-day music and art festival.

UPDATE 12/05/07
Superfly Presents and A.C. Entertainment released a statement to Billboard.com denying the rumors. (Many Legacy staffers are still hopeful.)

It is that time of year of again. The time of year when office parties, tree trimmings and family gatherings dominate the calendar.

For those Christmas music fans, here are a few catalog classics that we thought you’d enjoy.

Artist - Song
Mariah Carey - All I Want for Christmas Is You
Jose Feliciano - Feliz Navidad
Elvis Presley - Blue Christmas
Henri Rene, Eartha Kitt - Santa Baby
Andy Williams - It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year
Wham! - Last Christmas
Bruce Springsteen - Santa Claus Is Comin’ to Town
Mariah Carey - Christmas (Baby Please Come Home)
NewSong - The Christmas Shoes
Britney Spears - My Only Wish (This Year)
Elmo & Patsy - Grandma Got Run Over By a Reindeer
Praise - Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays
John Williams - Carol of the Bells
Nick Lachey, Jessica Simpson - Baby, It’s Cold Outside (Duet With Nick Lachey)
Christina Aguilera - Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas
Dolly Parton - Hard Candy Christmas
Kelly Clarkson - My Grown-Up Christmas List
Tony Bennett - My Favorite Things
Johnny Mathis - It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas
Christina Aguilera - This Christmas
The Mormon Tabernacle Choir - Carol of the Bells
Perry Como - (There’s No Place Like) Home for the Holidays
Gene Autry - Rudolph, the Red-Nosed Reindeer
Mariah Carey - Santa Claus Is Comin’ to Town
Johnny Mathis - Sleigh Ride
Martina McBride - Winter Wonderland
Emerson, Lake & Palmer - I Believe In Father Christmas
Johnny Mathis - Winter Wonderland
Michael W. Smith - Christmas Day
Alabama - Christmas in Dixie
Spike Jones, Spike Jones & His City Slickers - All I Want for Christmas Is My Two Front Teeth
Sarah McLachlan - Happy Xmas (War Is Over)
Sarah McLachlan - Song for a Winter’s Night
Perry Como, The Ray Charles Singers - Do You Hear What I Hear
James Taylor - Baby, It’s Cold Outside
Luther Vandross - Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas
Doris Day - Here Comes Santa Claus (Down Santa Claus Lane)
Harry Connick, Jr. - Frosty the Snowman
The Jordanaires, Elvis Presley - Santa Claus Is Back in Town

A couple of weeks ago, Oprah launched her own Oprah Channel on YouTube.com. As a part of the launch, she used an entire episode of her TV show to talk about how much YouTube now impacts our culture. Guests on the episode included owners Chad Hurley and Steve Chen. In case you missed it, the show also included a segment on the UK couple that recreated the entire dance scene finale from “Dirty Dancing” as their first wedding dance. Their video became an Internet phenomena with almost 3 million views. I won’t spoil what happened when the couple performed the dance again live on the show, but you may want to check it out online. It just goes to show the power of music from Dirty Dancing.

As a follow-up to that, I wanted to share another couple’s very special first dance. This comes courtesy of Jimmy Traina at SI.com’s Extra Mustard: Hot Clicks. (Jimmy, it appears we love the same type of touching moments.)

We’re still having trouble embedding videos here on The Soundboard, so you’ll have to go to Extra Mustard: Hot Clicks and scroll down to the bottom of the page where it says “They’ll Always Remember Their First Dance.”

If only my wife and I had thought of this before we got married. Oh well.

Thanks again, Jimmy.

Related Links

• Dirty Dancing UK - Julia and James First Dance
• What Happened on Oprah
• New Oprah channel on YouTube

Extra Credit

• Jack Johnson Wedding Dance
• Wedding Thriller Dance
• Wedding First Dance - Surprise Breakdance

STOP ME IF YOU THINK YOU’VE HEARD THIS ONE BEFORE: A Recollection of The Smiths’ first (and only) visit to Texas

Travel back with me to September 5, 1986. At that point I had already been writing about the British rock band The Smiths for my college newspaper in South Texas for two years, but the band had yet to tour my home state. So anticipation was high when a concert was announced to promote the band’s third studio effort, The Queen Is Dead, at the Bronco Bowl in Dallas for September 5, 1986.

This was the same Bronco Bowl where the Sex Pistols had famously played in 1979, a mere week before the band imploded onstage at Winterland in San Francisco. For this reason, and others, the Bronco Bowl was a very cool place to see a band.

Around noon on the 5th of September, three college friends and I departed on our 5-hour trek to
Dallas. We gamely practiced vocal gymnastics as we sang along to cassettes of the Smiths during the drive.

Anticipation was high as we turned into the parking lot of the Bronco Bowl and no time was wasted getting our tickets torn and making our way as close to the stage as possible. Which happened to be VERY CLOSE. We managed to get in the pit, dead center, a few feet from the front of the stage.

After waiting what seemed like a lifetime, even though there was only one opening act (the self-professed Jewish lesbian folksinger, Phranc), the Smiths were ON STAGE. Mere feet from us mere mortals.

The concert opened with the title track of The Queen Is Dead, with drummer Mike Joyce pounding away at the song’s signature intro. I was in bliss.

Then there was Morrissey — ridiculously camp and swish, sashaying across the stage, holding a sign saying “Meat Is Murder.”

The crowd threw flowers at his feet and he rewarded them by stretching across the stage monitors, teasing everybody by reaching out, adjusting his bulky eye glasses, but never quite touching anybody.

This was all part of the band’s legendary ritual, and as the show progressed we waited for the famous moment when Morrissey would remove his shirt and throw into the crowd, only for the fabric to be ripped to shreds by his frenzied fanbase.

If you doubt my story, you only need to check out the photo that adorns the inside gatefold to the Smiths’ only official live album, Rank, which captures just such a mob scene in all its blood-pounding glory.

About 3/4’s through the main set, Morrissey began to tug at his shirt — which that night happened to be a striped button-down, in pale shades of yellow and powder blue, with tiny flowers embroidered throughout.

He eventually grabbed the garment at its midsection, tore hard, and the buttons popped and rolled across the stage. With another jerk, like a spastic lizard shedding its skin, the shirt was off and Morrissey was waving it madly above his pale spindly body, his glasses now at his feet.

The front of the stage was swarming, and the crowd in back was surging forward, crushing my motley group of friends and myself HARD against the stage.

Morrissey twirled the shirt over his head and pretended to throw it. Arms thrust into the air, and mad pushing ensued, like a thousand newborn birds fighting to be fed the first worm by their mother!

Perhaps sensing that a large portion of his fans might be crushed if he didn’t do something soon, Morrissey once again whirled the shirt over his head, and this time he let go.

Now at this point I’ll let you know that I’m 6′5″ in height, and was quite popular on my high school basketball team.

The shirt headed in my general direction, I leapt, and one sleeve was in my hand. But as my body got nearer to the earth, about seven other hands were also on the shirt.

When my feet once again reached the concrete floor, there was a veritable swarm of groping, grasping hands on the shirt, and we all started ripping and wrestling in order to tear off a piece of the prize.

Mad with frenzy, a nearby skinhead and I managed to tear free one of the sleeves. But this was not due to any peaceful teamwork between us two, that’s just the way it worked out. And neither of us wanted to discuss our shared prize reasonably. Instead, my mohawked competitor grabbed tightly on the upper sleeve, while I wrapped my fingers around the buttons and lower cuff.

The full length of the arm was stretched wide between us. We each dug in our feet and PULLED, careening wildly across the floor of the Bronco Bowl.

Dozens of members of the crowd were unfortunate enough to be in our path, and with the tightly held sleeve between us, we mowed them down like chafe as we jerked wildly amongst the throng.

Mercifully, it wasn’t long before the sleeve gave way, with a loud shredding sound, as the two of us managed to secure approximately the same length of sleeve.

Instinctively, before anybody could get me in a headlock or otherwise attempt to wrestle the gaily colored scrap from my hands, I stuffed the shirt remnant deep into my underwear. This was the only place I knew it would be truly safe from the the mob surrounding me, murder in their eyes, staring as if they wanted me dead.

Yes, I still have the sleeve. And no, you can’t have a single thread from it.

Recently I have begun to worry how my kids were going to get acquainted with “the classics.” They have demonstrated no particular interest in expanding their musical horizons, to be fair they are still young, and I have no interest in being one of “those” parents who spoon feeds their offspring their own hip playlists. The fact we don’t drive much is also a setback. Being exposed to ‘70s pop radio during long car rides with my parents left me with a wealth of musical knowledge that not only makes me a bore at parties, but uniquely qualifies me for my job. Was I denying my children this legacy? Everybody should be able to sing along to the Rolling Stones or the O’Jays if sufficiently pressed or tipsy.

I have an effort to play a wider variety of music at home, but I realize now how the next generation will learn the range of classic rock songs from the last 4 decades that will help them in any sticky karaoke moment: GUITAR HERO.

Tonight my son, who is in pre-school, had his first go on Guitar Hero 2. Luckily he was crap and I totally rocked his score, but he didn’t care, he just wanted to hear Motley Crue’s “Shout At The Devil” over and over and over. My daughter, wanted to hear “Surrender” from Cheap Trick and decided when she grows up she wants to be a vet AND a rock star.

The other night I went to the Guitar Hero 3 NYC launch with a friend from work who was not even born at the time both the Scorpion’s “Rock You Like A Hurricane” and Pat Benatar’s “Hit Me With Your Best Shot” were hits. Yet, there they were on Guitar Hero 3 and there he was kicking ass on them, with a line of kids behind him awaiting their turn to rock.

s this the future of Classic Rock? Where else can you even hear the Allman Brothers’ “Jessica” these days? As a radio format Classic Rock might be shrinking, but perhaps this video game franchise is creating a whole new generation of listeners.

Like most folks, I have a lot of dreams that make absolutely no sense. You know, where the dream seems endless and you finally wake up, just scratching your head, trying to figure out what happened. Finally, someone made a trailer for one of weird my dreams.

Ok, I keed. I keed. This is the trailer for the movie “Repo! The Genetic Opera” which is apparently coming soon to a theater near you.

One of the most exciting things about working with the catalog of SonyBMG is rediscovering entire sections of our catalog that, for one reason or another, have not gotten the love and attention that they deserve. Such was the case with our Spoken Word catalog.

The director of A&R for Masterworks and the host of all of the Masterworks Podcasts David Foil recently introduced me to a list he’d found of all of the spoken word products in our archive. There are such gems! from John Gielgud to Jimmy Stewart to presidential speeches, it’s amazing the kind of things we have.

When we confirmed that we were doing the soundtrack to the Ken Burns film The War , we immediately thought of our spoken word catalog and what might be most relevant and interesting to those millions of people tuning in.

Eight titles were selected that are representative. Have a listen:

Eleanor Roosevelt: My Husband And I: Eleanor Roosevelt Recalls Her Years With FDR

Will Rogers Jr.: Politics U.S.A

Walter Cronkite: Blitzkreig

Edward R. Murrow: I Can Hear It Now (1919-1932)(coming soon)

Edward R. Murrow: I Can Hear It Now, Vol. II (1933-1945)

Edward R. Murrow: I Can Hear It Now, Vol. III (1945-1949)(coming soon)

Edward R. Murrow: A Reporter Remembers, Vol 1: The War Years

Winston Churchill: Winston Churchhill: Authorized Recordings of His Actual Speeches

End of day one. I would certainly call this a success. We started off
the day meeting with Dave and Brad, our camera crew, and Bruce, Bob, and
Frank out de facto hosts, for breakfast. Already the adventure started.

The Day’s Inn experience is fantastic. Not quite the storm of hysteria
that Bruce described to us last week, but I attribute that in equal
parts to the show’s somewhat decreased vitality (so say many attendees)
and Bruce’s expected embeleshment. It started out slow, but very shortly
hotel rooms opened and cars began to pull up. As soon as a new car
entered the lot, the most aggressive of the crowd swarmed - digging
through boxes waiting to be unloaded.

Inside, doors were propped open and collectors moved from box to box and
room to room. Some vendors had 3 or 4 boxes, but others hardly left room
for us to stand. Thousands of 45s - garage, surf, rockabilly, northern
soul, male vocal groups, female vocal groups, instrumental, and several
other genres.

Actually, considering the enormous number of titles, the variety of
genres was surprisingly narrow. From room to room, the categories were
similar. I wonder what drove this community’s taste in music?  Do other
groups form around records of showtunes or jazz?

We captured some really great footage of collectors digging and
bantering, and even better interviews. Some people couldn’t have been
more cooperative, others were visably - and audibly, actually -
disturbed by our presence. We tried to make ourselves scarse when
appropriate.

It was truly fascinating speaking with those who would share with us.
Where they came from, what they collect, what they sell, what they love.
We asked about their most expensive aquisition and their most luctrative
sale - not a surprise that generally the former was surpassed by the
latter.

In the afternoon, we took a trip deep into Amish company to the Record
Connection - a fantastic shop in Ephrata, PA. Their card touts “100,000
record albums, 45s & 78s,” and owner Andy promised he had a similar
number in storage. How a shop like this survives in an area like that is
truly a mystery to me, but it is so good to see. We got another great
couple of interviews - possibly one of the best of the week - and did
some shopping.

Back again to Allentown brought us dinner and some more record browsing
at the Day’s Inn. A bit more schmoozing and back to Ho Jo’s for some
much needed sleep.

Tomorrow promises to be some more of the same. The goal for us is to
continue the interviews and regroup for Saturday.

Well, the drive really wasn’t bad. I got in the car about 8:15pm and
pulled into the HoJo’s roghly two hours later. Rob arrived shortly after
and we ventured accross the street to the strip mall and one of
Allentown’s ‘hot spots’ - The Chiken Lounge. Nothing like drinking $1.50
beers and listening to bad Smashing Pumpkins rip-offs while the local
hospital staff filters in for their nightly booze, smoke and chicken
nachos. Do I really miss the city already? Truthfully, the place did
have some charm - $1.50 pints.

This morning starts the real reason for this journey into suburbia. We
have come to film the 17th Semi-Annual 45 & 78 RPM Record Convention and
all the pre-show festivities. The show starts on Saturday, but for the
next two days, the truly hardcore do their thing. The Days Inn is ground
zero. I’m told these guys are ferocious (in a good way) when it comes to
finding just the right record. Legend has it that trunks are popped and
boxes searched before the cars have even finished pulling into their
parking spots.

We are really here to explore this niche subculture. These guys (and
girls?) Are the ultimate catalog music fans. Their knowledge of music so
far surpasses my own that I just hope I can be accepted enough to gain
some insight. They don’t know we’re coming, and I hope they allow us
close enough to celebrate both their excentricities and their passion.

Music appreciation is not dead in this modern world, and this week I’d
like to prove that. The record labels may not make money on events like
this, but at least it’s not P2P.