Moby
Grape – Wow / Grape Jam
An Appreciation or “whatever happened
to hairy Mary??”
Moby
Grape is a group whose story is one of the great cautionary tales of
bad luck in the music business. Maybe only Badfinger had a worse go
of it. At least there were no suicides in Moby Grape. Yet, what often
gets lost in the shuffle is how Moby Grape’s story is also one of
inexplicable resilience and the power of the human spirit. For along
the circuitous path of this band’s history there have occurred
infrequent yet potent flashes of genius, light and exuberance when it
was least expected or warranted. In the darkest of circumstances, the
electric Moby Grape spirit would come roaring back as if after long,
fallow periods the latent power had no option but to burst forth
undeterred and unable to be denied. It defies all rational logic.
There is just no way such a down and out lot should have had the
audacity to be so awesome on their own terms, on their own time -
always having to fight off their oppressors (seen and unseen) in the
process.
One
might argue that although the seeds of the group’s bittersweet
fruit were sown early on, the years following their late 60s heyday
have provided the better story. Lawsuits dragged on with the courts
rarely siding in their favor. Yet the real identity of Moby Grape
always resided with those original five fantastic musicians. Time, in
the long run, has been on their side. That fabulous five proved over
and over how the magic resided within them – not in some document
saying who owns what words or images. The magic is apparent to all
those with ears – and has been there right from the git-go, in
fact………..
Moby
Grape was assembled around guitar player Skip Spence who, after
drumming for the original Jefferson Airplane, had a mind to strike
out on his own as a bandleader / composer / singer and songwriter.
The musicians that were drafted to fill out the band were not all
known to each other at the time. Jerry Miller and Don Stevenson were
pulled in through Bob Mosley, but that was the extent of who knew who
prior to the formation of the band. What these five musicians
achieved in the first formative months of their existence as a band
is astounding – a smokin’ live act with emphasis on killer
original material and a debut record on a major label that also
featured original songs expertly executed and presented. The
self-titled first album holds the distinction of being one of the few
truly perfect albums in the history of the medium – and to think
this was their first record…….just staggering. Still is. If you
don’t own a copy please do yourself a favor and get one pronto! You
will be happy. You will jump up and down. You will play air guitar.
Why aren’t you listening to this record now?
Some
groups only have it one way – either a great record or a great live
act. Rarely is there a combination of the two. Moby Grape had that
magical alignment of fortunes. A live CD of various performances was
issued on Sundazed a bunch of years back and it contains a portion of
the smokin’ set performed by the Grape at the Monterey Pop
Festival. Oh boy, did these guys have “it”. Lots of “it”.
More “it” than most bands. For years I read about how dynamic
they were as a live unit – particularly the presence of Skip Spence
onstage. Around the summer of 2001 I took a solo journey out to the
Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in Cleveland. This was prior to youtube. I
literally stood frozen in front of an exhibit case with various
artifacts from Bay Area groups (including the fringe jacket Skip
Spence wore on the front cover of Moby Grape’s perfect debut
album). Why was I stuck there? A little television was positioned at
the top of the case which must have been linked to a VCR playing a
tape loop of performances from these bands – including a clip of
Moby Grape with Skip Spence leading the band through a song on the
first album which BLEW MY CIRCUITS. Seeing Skip Spence in action like
that made the hair on my arms stand on end. What an electric
performer! See here:
The
stories of the first tour across the US are legendary. Tearing up
stages night after night with Spence pulling out all the stops. They
quickly became the envy of their peers. Yet, as brilliant as the
first album was, the damage was inflicted by the record company’s
decision to issue all the tracks as singles simultaneously –
sending them all out to radio stations in one shot. Said radio
stations had no idea which songs to plug and therefore no single song
had a ghost of a chance to advance up the charts. Its almost as if
Moby Grape was chosen as the group to experiment with – beyond
shameful since they deserved better.
Sessions
for the follow-up LP began in California and, by all accounts, were a
disaster mainly due to partying and general unruly behavior. The
decision to move the sessions to New York would prove both decisive
and fateful. The record would get done, but the price paid would
extend well beyond the studio costs. Once the record was finally
hitting the shops, Skip Spence would be heading for an extended stay
in a psychiatric hospital. The future of the band without their
leader, however fragile, was unknown. Still, there was talent aplenty
– especially apparent in bassist and vocalist Bob Mosley. Guitarist
Peter Lewis has stated that Mosley was the one member of the group
who could have been a star in his own right without the rest of the
band backing him up. Great songwriter, great bassist – better
vocalist (he could have been Otis Redding’s own son). In the great
killer bands of my imagination, putting Bob Mosley in a fantasy group
with Steve Marriott is among the more potent daydreams I’ve allowed
myself to have. Even though every member of Moby Grape could sing
well, Mosley had that magic voice.
While
the debut album rightly gets the attention it deserves, it dawned on
me that the sophomore effort – Wow / Grape Jam – is too often
unjustly criticized. Perhaps it gets lost in the history of its own
creation, particularly the events that sidelined Skip Spence which
propelled the group into a tailspin. Had Spence not melted down in
1968 and the group continued intact to third and fourth proper
albums, Wow may have been hailed as the slightly excessive, but
ultimately transitional record it was meant to be. So Wow gets
unfairly compared to that perfect debut album and, really – it’s
a shame. Wow is as honest to its times as the self-titled LP was to
its own place and time. If the debut embodied the optimism of San
Francisco’s 1967 Summer of Love, Wow is the worthy counterpart
soundtrack for the parade of grotesque surrealism America endured in
1968. As such, Wow stands as an honest snapshot of what people were
feeling and thinking in those days. What more can we ask of great art
beyond this?
Here
to sing our words and song
Finger
chimes and wonder and losing nothing
Mother
and father, think for yourself
This
is the place and the time
Make
the changes, hear the time
All
those silly words don't seem to rhyme
Now
I'm cold and I wonder why
My
twelfth floor mansions seem to touch the sky
Tomorrow
I'll be back to see if you can really be here
My, what a strange vision I have seen and what a change
What's
that walkin' through my years
And
breathin' on your mind?
Oh, what strange visions
and changes did confront the American populace in that fateful year!
Never were song lyrics so directly correlated to the times. This almost sounds like a sing-songy introduction to an
elementary-school stage production – a childlike preamble heralding
the weirdness to come. “Mother and Father – think for yourself –
this is the Place and the Time……..”
The following track –
“Murder in my Heart for the Judge” – is one of the strongest
efforts on the album (with an impassioned vocal from Mosley) and,
oddly enough, a potential anthem for the true Moby Grape Nation in
their ongoing legal plight through the ensuing years.
It also
underscores the growing generation gap that had rapidly befallen the
country in that era. The big, fat, bald representative of justice is
just another example of The Establishment looking to crucify the
younger generation. Yet, there is a slight wink in the vocal delivery
which provides a bit of comic relief to an otherwise tense face-off
between the hippie culture and the straight culture. The plaintiff
pleads “I’m sure to change my ways……” but the judge wasn’t
born yesterday and sees right through the phony remorse with the
promise to throw the book at the hippie for “getting smart”. The
judge may be an asshole, but he’s not stupid. (Though I’d like to
qualify the fact that there are truly stupid judges out there!)
Bitter Wind – the
philosophical centerpiece of the LP, yet a possible window into some
sort of psychological torment (expressed in the noise section,
perhaps?).
Can't Be So Bad – Jerry
Miller as the upbeat guy trying desperately to cheer up a clearly
depressed young lady – the over-the-top pleading on Jerry's part is
reminiscent of those who have struggled with family members with
legitimate mental illness. Yet, at the core Miller wants all to be
well – and his dedication to being a Good Samaritan is both
honorable and admirable. Level-headed and empathetic – good
combination of qualities. Especially in ideologically war-torn
America of 1968.
Just Like Gene Autry –
Spence has the best sense of humor – the outtakes of the Arthur
Godfrey vocal overdub session reveal how effective Spence was in
getting even the most unlikely people in on his “trip” to do
things beyond what they'd normally do. Yet, that bright light of
inspiration has a dark shadow revealed on side two...........
He – Peter Lewis has
written that he was experiencing a minor personal meltdown of his own
during the sessions for Wow and this was his only significant
contribution. Oddly enough, he could have been writing the song about
Spence, though I don't think that was the case. Nevertheless, a song
about a fragile person..........
Motorcycle Irene – the
dark side of Spence is revealed here. I will maintain that car crash
sounds do not belong on pop music albums (nor do auto disaster songs
– see Jan and Dean about that).
Three-Four – this is a
beautiful song which gives Mosley an honest shot at being taken
seriously as a country and western singer. This track could have been
issued as a single and sent to country stations under his own name
and might have gained a spot on the playlists. There is little
evidence that this track is being performed by a Bay-Area hippie
band. Plenty of rock groups were dipping their toes into the C&W
territory, yet none of the other bands were capable of pulling off
such an authentic and honest-sounding performance in the true spirit
of the genre. There is no irony here. Only heartfelt emotion. They
should have been booked on the Johnny Cash show to do this number.
Funky-Tunk – the
light-hearted take on C&W – a little hillbilly he-hawing to
remind us this is a rock and roll band with a sense of humor. Really,
a nice bump down to reality from the seriousness of the previous
track.
Rose Colored Eyes – one
of the most hauntingly-beautiful songs of the golden age of rock
music. Once again the versatility of Mosley's vocal abilities gets
its due here. Side two is pretty much all about Bob since he owns the
vocal performances like a champ.
Miller's Blues – maybe
titled for Jerry (who does provide some tasty guitar work here), but
the vocal duties fall to Bob again and he knocks it out of the park.
Interesting to note – 1968 was the year of the blues, yet this Bay
Area group gets influenced here by the New York Blues approach –
more in the urbane-style with horns and so-forth. There is a
weariness to the proceedings which reminds us that 1968 was a very
rough year for everyone.
Naked, If I Want To –
Bob gets the final word here with the other age-old musical
question.............updated and insistent in the grand style of Otis
Redding. This seemingly throwaway track illustrates the difference
between the whimsical version on the '67 debut with the newer, less
idealistic version on the '68 LP. In other words.........why can't we
do these things a year later? Haven't we progressed yet? What's the
holdup? And a hearty Amen to THAT, especially in the USA, 2017-style.
Eeesh.
I could keep writing about
the other albums - reflecting the ups and downs of this talented, but
troubled bunch over the years. There are more stories to illustrate
that triumph of spirit in the face of adversity - and the Melville
Gang has been through the wringer of life to testify. Yet, I will
save that for another time. The story for Moby Grape takes a sour
turn by 1973 when the original band loses the right to perform under
that name - a situation that takes decades to change. The whole story
has really yet to be told properly. It is a strange tale of how
individuals thrown together find common ground in the fight for the
right to be themselves - held together by the bond of a curious and
magical musical chemistry.
If the Moby Grape band
pulled together as friends to fight for their name and legacy, others
have had the opposite problem - legendary acrimony that may have been
the source of the creative spark, but leading to no chance of any
reunion activity. Over the years I have attempted to write about
Husker Du as a band. The following is the best of the several
attempts with some new stuff thrown in. The time may be right to
finally publish my homage to the Du.........
HUSKER DU - Remembered and
not forgotten:
Predicting shifts in
musical trends is not something I expect to do anytime in the near or
distant future. Yet, I can say “I saw it coming” as the 1980s
morphed into the 1990s. Well, I didn't know exactly when
that shift was coming, but I wasn't entirely surprised when it
arrived. Grunge. Nirvana. Loud rock guitar based music with long hair
again. To the average music fan of the 80s, the grungiest thing to
hit the mainstream was Guns N' Roses, but of course they just looked
like an updated version of Aerosmith to me. I often wondered where
the Nirvana fans were when great independent rock trios of the 80s
were blazing the pathway – Meat Puppets, The Minutemen, The
Wipers, Agitpop and, especially, Husker Du.
I know I wasn't the
only one. Yet, I was the only person I knew who KNEW. None of my
friends were as interested in Husker Du as I was then. Now it's like,
one other person I know personally. Of course, I never got to see
them live - nor in any solo outings, alas. But I can honestly say, "I
was a Husker Du fan in the 80’s". And for this I have to give
credit to my main music news connection of the era – Musician
Magazine. There used to be little profiles on up and coming bands in
a section of the magazine devoted to that stuff. Once in awhile a
band would be described as “neo-psychedelic”. Like the Rain
Parade. I bought their album – not bad. More like 1965-era Byrds as
opposed to psychedelic.
Another issue had a
little profile about Husker Du. Now, these guys looked more like
wrestlers than psychedelic rockers, but I read how they covered the
Byrds “Eight Miles High” – that sounded pretty cool. But it
took me awhile to finally hear that record. In the meantime, I found
an unlikely Husker Du record at the local mall chain-store record
shop (they were known to carry some indie stuff at the time besides
the usual major label crud). For some reason they did not have any of
the SST releases, but they did have “Everything Falls Apart”. I
debated about this one since it wasn’t on SST and I had never heard
about it. The cover listed a song titled “Sunshine Superman”.
Hmmm. Really? The Donovan song? Alright – a punk version of Donovan
– sold!
I was a little
dismayed to find out the record was cut at 45 RPM speed when I sliced
open the shrink wrap and slid the vinyl out of the sleeve. 45? Well,
this was going to be a short album. I think I put the needle
immediately down on “Sunshine Superman”. Hey – a little
abrasive, but not bad. A “tough” version, but this was no parody.
These guys genuinely liked the song. I could tell. Fine. But it was
when I placed the needle into the grooves at the start of the record
that I was face to face with a new reality. This was PUNK music.
Loud, fast, waaaay abrasive, but there were hooks, melodies lurking
there. I will never forget watching that record spin so fast on my
turntable as Grant Hart’s propulsive drumming thundered out of the
speakers like an out of control herd of galloping cattle.
Now, I had played in a
little punk-type band for a brief time. It was fun, but kinda
one-dimensional. So, to hear a “punk” band branching out into
other musical vibes beyond “hardcore” was pretty interesting to
me. I have to think it must have been 1985 or 1986 when I heard this
record – only a few years after its release, but by then the
Huskers had moved ahead musically – and I was still trying to catch
up!
I’ll tell you why I
adopted Husker Du as “my band”. First off – the abrasive stuff
was interesting, but not speed metal. Everyone else I knew in high
school was going bonkers over Metallica. I never latched onto that
band. Maybe it was the guy that sat in front of me in Spanish class
who had every Metallica T-shirt known to man – the ones with the
glow-in-the-dark electrocuted skeleton and the fist with the dagger
popping out of a toilet come to mind – I hate to say it, but those
images seemed kind of contrived to me. Kinda like “here’s some
stuff that adolescents will think is really rebellious and their
parents will hate it and gosh aren’t we just soooooo
rebellious???”. It struck me as a little obvious and
paint-by-numbers in the image department. Probably prevented me from
appreciating some great music, but that’s my un-hip brain for
you…….
What I never got to witness live. Raw Power!
Aside from a much more
mysterious image than Metallica, Husker Du – even at their most
abrasive – knew how to incorporate melody and harmony into their
music. They gave the listener something familiar to latch onto while
being ushered into the “new” era of aggressive rock and roll
music. Actually, by the time I latched onto Husker Du, it must have
been 1986. I seem to recall seeing the 12” single for “Don’t
Want to Know if You Are Lonely” in the same bin as “Everything
Falls Apart”. I’m sure I had heard some other tracks on WVKR –
the local college radio station. I distinctly remember hearing “Green
Eyes” on there from the fabulous “Flip Your Wig” album.
What else made Husker Du
so compelling in the 1980s? The 80s seemed to be the decade when
mainstream acts were afraid to crank up their amps. Popular music
sounded so………manufactured. Husker Du had just enough “edge”
to their sound to be contemporary, but enough quality singing, hooks,
interesting lyrics and songcraft in general to stand out from the
crowd. Nobody was doing what they were doing in that era. Not knowing
any of the inside info on the band – it looked in 1986 that they
were going to hit big and push music in the proper direction (which
they ultimately did). This noisy-as-hell band signed to Warner
Brothers and certainly the Grant Hart songs on “Candy Apple Grey”
had “hit single” written all over them. “Don’t Want to Know
If You Are Lonely” is an 80’s power-pop masterpiece. Not to
mention “Dead Set on Destruction” – what a great track that is!
I really thought – finally! A ballsy power pop group with good
songs is going to save popular music from the freeze-dried hell of
the 80s!
1987 arrives – new
double album. Tours. Show in Poughkeepsie cancelled. Even though I
was not yet 18 I was determined to get into that show. My one missed
opportunity. By 1988/9 they were done. Nobody seemed to care.
Then……..THEN! All of a sudden in 1991, everyone is crapping
themselves silly over this new band Nirvana – lessee – a
power/punk/pop trio in the Husker Du mold – basically reaping the
glory that the Huskers laid the groundwork for all through those
miserable 80s? Where were all these people when Husker Du was laying
it down only a few years before? I have never been a Nirvana fan. My
loss I suppose. I just couldn’t…………….
There was something else
about Husker Du’s approach – the music was intense, but the
lyrics usually betrayed some inner turmoil and awkwardness that
certainly spoke to me as an adolescent teen. There was a certain
willingness on the part of Mould and Hart to reveal some
vulnerability in their lyrics which was quite different from the
typical vapid posturing that went on in 80s popular music for the
most part. To me, it was Grant Hart's stuff that truly set the band
apart - his material had an unmistakably deranged, desperate and
unhinged quality to it. At once compelling and, at times, disturbing.
It is possible that both the main songwriters encouraged each other
to plumb the depths of their psyches to dredge out the best of what
was lurking inside them. To magnificent effect for the art, if not
for the business side of their relationship. In their case, one could
argue what made them special is what also tore them to pieces as a
band.
With the grunge
revolution of the 90s, it was reported to be fashionable to name-drop
Husker Du as an influence if you wanted some alternative-credibility.
Since I was essentially out of the rock music loop by that point I
could care less about how hip it might be, but I was never too bowled
over by what I heard other bands coming up with in an attempt to
carry the torch the Huskers lit back in the 80s. Context is
everything. I’m sure to modern ears the music Husker Du came up
with sounds like an interesting curiosity. Like some weird science
experiment gone wrong. But those records were (for me) the only
worthwhile direction rock music could go in. And for the band who
brought the change as close to becoming reality as it could get in
their day NOT to get any of the credit or payoff just pissed me off
to no end. Maybe there were others like me who reacted the same way.
I have this thing about "myth". To me, Husker Du was the
LAST band to conjure up the MYTH FACTOR - perhaps for other people it
would be Nirvana. The elusive way people "talk" about a
band in excited tones. Telling stories of past glories and future
conquests. That kind of mythical stuff. To watch the Huskers come so
far and then wipe out right when they should have led the charge was
a lot like - breaking up with the first girlfriend who meant
something to you. Well, you can guess why I make that particular
analogy! The Huskers breakup and my first breakup happened pretty
much simultaneously. In fact, Bob Mould's "Workbook" solo
album was like the soundtrack to my immediate post-breakup world -
can't hear it any other way. So I have a fair amount of emotion tied
in with this particular band! Lucky me!
Husker Du's music is
raw emotion. The intensity of the emotion behind their songs –
that’s what set them apart. These guys put out the most haunted and
tortured-sounding power-speedpop songs imaginable. And a good
majority of those were damn catchy! Well, not all of the songs were
torture-fests. Mould’s songs kinda split between the frenetic
scream-fests and the sombre dirges. Grant Hart’s stuff struck a
much more sinister vibe – some songs could be singalong sweet pop
confection while the more screamy songs often had a
just-escaped-from-the-mental-institution sensibility going on. Mould
was definitely angry, but he didn’t come off sounding half as
dangerous as Hart. Yet, even with these edgy qualities, Husker Du
made such unlikely inroads into mainstream culture at the time –
it’s hard for the current crop of young people to realize that
although there were figures from the music world capable of
criticizing the “system” in an intelligent way (Bob Dylan, John
Lennon and Frank Zappa were the three most media-savvy truth tellers
of the era), even those people had “star quality” to the extent
that they “fit in” as the Court Critics. The guys in Husker Du
certainly did NOT have that vibe about them AT ALL. And seeing their
appearance on the Joan Rivers show in 1987 – the mere PRESENCE of
Husker Du on that TV show was like……..”Oh my god…..they’re
letting the real, non-glamorous, intelligent people on
TV……holyfuckinggoddamn! This must be THE REVOLUTION!!!”
They certainly
pointed the way and they were RIGHT. Yet, it couldn't be them. This
is brought home especially by Bob Mould's autobiography. As
problematic as his account of the breakup might be - if nothing else
the reader is given a clear sense of his feelings about the band,
even if the events that created those feelings aren't explained too
well. I got the sense that Mould just wasn't willing to be tethered
to Husker Du for his whole life in music. For better or worse he
simply wanted out. Partnerships are tricky - even when the art sets
audiences on fire.
As time went on, I
eventually picked up Mould's second solo album - Black Sheets of
Rain. For whatever reason I never quite got into that. I didn't
bother with Sugar for the longest time. Some of that stuff is okay. I
know it means more to Mould than that. I prefer his more recent solo
albums - Beauty & Ruin and Patch The Sky are wonderful! Yet, it
took me awhile to check his stuff out again. I totally missed all the
electronic business. Maybe someday I'll catch up with that. Grant
Hart was much less prolific and his records were harder for me to
find. Yet, when I did track them down I was quite impressed! Nova Mob
deserved better than what they got. How great is this video?
I really got into his 1999
release "Good News For Modern Man". Then - I don't know
what was going on up to the release of The Argument. I'm happy to say
I reviewed that here when it came out and I still like it. Since then
I managed to snag the compilation LP and DVD set - Every Everything:
The documentary on Hart is
well worth seeing for the Husker Du fan. He is the narrator and it's
really his own view of himself we get to see. And that is WAY more
than the average fan has had access to - and a welcome thing, indeed.
A few months ago I had a ticket to see Grant Hart open for The Meat
Puppets in New York City. I was so sick that week - I bailed. Wish I
hadn't now. It probably was my last chance to see him. Reports from
that show weren't very kind. I guess he isn't doing so well these
days. Out of respect for him I won't post pictures here. Whatever his
struggles - I salute his art and his bravery. Mere words can't convey
how important that music was to me growing up and even now. It meant
courage - the courage to face the depths of one's own darkest regions
and somehow transform all of that into brightly illuminated energy -
to push outside the confines of one's own mental / spiritual dungeon.
I hope to get there someday - at least the brave among us have
trailed the way ahead. For the artists in Moby Grape and Husker Du -
thanks for the hope and courage. Not easy torches to pass along. May
the efforts continue to crackle and spark!
I'll give the last word to
Grant Hart - live in 2014. If it's worth saying, it's worth saying
LOUD!
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