By: David Schultz

The Eighties proved to be an awkward era. Not only did it give us the Safety dance, purple rain, luftballons, the moonwalk, Wang Chung and Terence Trent D’Arby, it’s the decade that gave us the phrase “Domo Arigato, Mr. Roboto.” In addition to cringeworthy fashion statements like suits with pastel-colored T-shirts and teased, feathered hair for both men and women, the Eighties brought us into the computer age. In the arcades, we played Pac-Man and Missile Command and at home, we slowly converted our record collections to compact disc.

The emergence of MTV, which stressed an artist’s appearance as much as their talent, the widespread incorporation of synthesized and computer generated music and the initial growth of rap drove many established and iconic acts from the Sixties and Seventies into an identity crisis as they tried to keep up with the changing times. The Eighties may have served as the birthing ground for U2, R.E.M. and The Replacements but it also marked the time that the careers of many artists from the Woodstock generation went into a tailspin.

Since Oliver Stone has decided to bring Gordon Gekko, the decade’s archetype of amoral greed, into the modern day with Wall Street 2: Money Never Sleeps, it’s probably not a bad time to look back at the Eighties and see how it nearly dimmed some of the rock era’s brightest lights.

ERIC CLAPTON
By the Eighties, Clapton’s storied reputation as a blues-rock demigod had started to diminish as he battled drug and alcohol addiction. Where Slow Hand once dallied in the studio with the likes of Duane Allman, Steve Winwood and George Harrison, the Eighties saw him palling around with Phil Collins and releasing slickly produced albums like Behind The Sun and August. At his 80s nadir, Clapton found himself in heavy rotation on MTV with “It’s In The Way That You Use It,” his tie-in with The Color Of Money, and in Michelob commercials with his re-recorded version of “After Midnight.” Capitalizing on everyone’s need to replace their LPs with CDs, many artists had their greatest hits combined into comprehensive multi-disc box sets. Clapton’s Crossroads, which covered all aspects of his career, created the blueprint for such collections and reawakened interest in the master bluesman. Trading in the T-shirt and jeans that had become his stage wear in favor of dapper suits, Clapton stopped dabbling in 80s-style superficial blues-rock and once again found his muse.

GRATEFUL DEAD
Defying all logic, the Grateful Dead had a run of success on MTV. In 1987, The venerable jamband titans released In The Dark, easily their most accessible album and, in line with the times, made . . . shudder . . . a music video for its lead single “Touch Of Grey.” In between Peter Gabriel and Dire Straits videos, the shaggy manes of Jerry Garcia and Bob Weir played interchangeably with animatronic skeletons while Deadheads watched on with bemused horror. In line with the chorus of “Touch Of Grey,” the Dead survived the Eighties by persevering and simply outlasting the nonsense until it came full circle. Whatever fair-weather fans they attracted through their MTV exposure quickly fell to the wayside as the Dead remained on the road, paving the way for the modern jamband scene to flourish. Always a mighty live draw, the Dead toured regularly up until Jerry Garcia’s death in 1995. By that point, the brain cells in which Deadheads stored their memories of the Dead’s brief 80s flirtation with mainstream popularity had long been killed.

LOU REED
With classics like “Walk On The Wild Side” and “Street Hassle” a distant memory, the former leader of the Velvet Underground spent most of the Eighties churning out albums like Legendary Hearts and Mistrial, filled with formulaic, barely inspired three chord rock songs. Never the most harmonious singer, Reed got in into his head that he should be acknowledged as one of the originators of the burgeoning rap scene, insinuating as much on “The Original Wrapper.” At the end of the decade, Reed turned his razor-sharp intellect on two subjects on which no one would doubt his expertise, New York City and Andy Warhol. With the release of New York in 1989 and his collaboration the next year with John Cale on Songs For Drella, a eulogy for Warhol, their former mentor and patron, Reed found relevant topics to apply his blunt, streetwise poetry to, reemerging as one of America’s most prolific and outspoken songwriters. Like he had for the decades before, he continued to sort-of rap most of his lyrics but once Marky Mark & The Funky Bunch released “Wildside,” Reed seemed to lose all interest in drawing comparisons between himself and the world of hip hop.

GENESIS
Next to ZZ Top, there was no more unlikely MTV superstar than Phil Collins. Looking more lecherous old man than video icon, Collins worked ahead of the curve; his slick videos for “Sussudio” “Take Me Home” and “In The Air Tonight” defining the early 80s Miami Vice influenced video era. As a solo star, this was fine. However, as the de facto leader of Genesis, one of the titans of progressive rock, this influence resulted in the band that created The Lamb Lies Down On Broadway being represented by Spitting Image puppets on “Land Of Confusion” and hawking Michelob beer with “Tonight, Tonight, Tonight.” Unlike many of the other artists on this list, the Eighties didn’t almost kill Genesis, they put the band six feet under. After the unbearable We Can’t Dance, the band went dormant with Collins officially leaving in 1996, relegating them to a cult status amongst those who would flock in droves to see a reunion with Peter Gabriel. However, like all bands from the Seventies, there is always one word that generates gobs of cash: reunion. The 2007 Genesis reunion tour touched on their forgettable 80s success but wisely kept things focused on their pre-80s majesty.

DAVID BOWIE
David Bowie's descent into Eighties inanity didn’t take place during that decade – although some would be pressed to call shenanigans on “Blue Jean,” “China Doll” and his mincing prance with Mick Jagger on “Dancing In The Streets.” Rather, in 1997, Bowie engaged in the type of Wall Street chicanery that made Michael Milken the poster boy for Wall Street greed: junk bonds. Coming up with the novel idea of selling securities backed by royalties on his pre-1990 recordings, Bowie Bonds were initially greeted with optimism and an A3 rating. Coupling Bowie’s retirement from the stage with the digital revolution and its crippling effect on music sales in any medium, the lack of a sustainable interest in Bowie’s back catalog has resulted in the Bowie Bonds being continuously downgraded, reaching a level just a touch above junk bond status.

JETHRO TULL
When a band that’s made their career on English blues, sprawling progressive rock suites and flute-based epics becomes fascinated with the synthesizer, nothing good could result. In the case of Jethro Tull, nothing good did result. Instead of flirting with Bach compositions and mandolin solos from a prior century, Ian Anderson attempted to give the band a new wavish Eighties feel on albums like A, Under Wraps and their most Spinal Tappish effort, Broadsword And The Beast by including electric violins and decidedly non-rustic synthesizers. The extreme divergence from medieval acoustics and progressive rock digressions alienated all but the most loyal of fans. Tull came to its senses by the end of the decade but at that point it’s unclear if anyone was still paying attention. It surely baffled everyone when they won the inaugural Grammy for Best Hard Rock Album for the mostly acoustic Crest Of The Knave.

AEROSMITH
This is the band from the Seventies that proves to be the exception to the rule. Already in trouble at the start of the decade, the band was on the steep path to nostalgia tours and obscurity when Run DMC helped resurrect Aerosmith’s career with rock and rap music’s original mash-up, “Walk This Way.” Being associated with the groundbreaking rap trio and the emerging genre of music hardly hurt Aerosmith, nor did it do Run DMC any harm to get the rub from one of the hardest rocking bands of the previous decade. In the era before gangsta rap and Kanye West egos, a classic rock act reaching across the aisle in this fashion seemed more revolutionary than conciliatory or opportunistic. Once the singles from Permanent Vacation started to make their way into heavy rotation on MTV, Aerosmith became one of the first bands that actually was saved by the Eighties.

NEIL YOUNG
As if the success of Buffalo Springfield was an albatross hanging around his neck, Neil Young found himself a Vocoder and a synthesizer and let the world know what “Mr. Soul” would have sounded like if it had been recorded by robots. Embracing the new technology a bit too eagerly, Young released Trans, an album chock full of Eighties-style robotics and unlike anything Young had ever done before. Geffen Records, who released Trans, hated it so much, they skipped constructive criticism and sued him for making it. Young’s dabbling in computer rock was thankfully short lived but it sent him into a downward creative spiral and he spent the decade making the weakest music of his career, getting banned from MTV in the process for glibly mocking the network and its advertisers. Fortunately, the first Bush era awakened the rocker; when Young released Freedom and the incendiary “Rockin’ In The Free World,” the past decade faded blissfully into the ether and Young took his rightful spot as the flannel clad Godfather of Grunge.

THE WHO
The world’s loudest band presciently sat out the decade, saving the world from finding out what other synthesized epics Pete Townshend had in mind when he wrote “Eminence Front.” Instead, we got sappy fluff like “After The Fire” from Daltrey’s Under The Raging Moon and Townshend succumbing to the urge to rap on “Face The Face” and to the need to adapt The Iron Giant into a misfire of a concept album. To celebrate the 25th anniversary of Tommy, The Who reunited and embarked on the first of many, many reunion tours. Always a reliable draw, Townshend, Daltrey and, until his death in 2002, bassist John Entwistle, kept The Who’s legacy alive, waiting until the oughts to put out any new material bearing The Who’s mighty trademark. Daltrey’s voice may have lost its once-mighty power and Townshend battled tinnitus, but once they launch into “Won’t Get Fooled Again” or “Baba O’Riley,” people don’t seem to care, mainly cause Townshend remains one of the best guitarists alive.

ZZ TOP
In the Eighties, ZZ Top performed the nearly impossible task of transforming themselves from a gruff, rough-and-tumble Southern-rock trio into neo-lecherous, bearded purveyors of synthesized blues. It’s hard to begrudge them the success they found by reinventing themselves as it resuscitated their flagging career . . . but at what cost? Nowadays, when ZZ Top enters the conversation, it’s impossible to extricate the images of the three of them mysteriously appearing with a bevy of hot, leggy women to offer up the keys of their cherry red vintage Ford to some deserving soul. Beguiled by the synths, ZZ Top turned the blues into a cartoon wonderland, stripping the music’s back door man ethic of every ounce of its menace.

Happy Thanksgiving. The daily Earfuls will return after the holiday.

Labels: Aerosmith, David Bowie, Eric Clapton, Genesis, Grateful Dead, Jethro Tull, Lou Reed, Neil Young, The Who, ZZ Top

By: David Schultz

Rock stars from the Sixties continue to provide a consistent fount of nostalgia and often are the source material for lucrative arena tours. Very few though retain their vitality and remain an important and influential presence. For all the reverence Bob Dylan and the Jagger/Richards combo have earned, it’s been years since they’ve been anything other than musicians. Despite the cycles that bests any artist’s career, Neil Young has always managed to remain an essential cog in the rock and roll machinery, a “Rockin’ In The Free World” or “Let’s Impeach The President” always simmering below the surface and ready to burst from his blue-collar soul. A true veteran, the venerable Young concluded his North American tour with a pair of shows at New York City’s Madison Square Garden.

Time has taken nothing from the feisty Canadian. Numerous times during Monday night's show, Young bounded away from the microphone and careened across the stage, his guitar going through wild tremors as if trying to escape his grasp. No one would ever mistake Young’s voice for another but his incisive and defiant guitar style can be heard constantly in the artists that followed him. On “Cinnamon Girl,” “Cortez The Killer” and “Powderfinger,” Young reestablished himself as the Godfather of Grunge and the ancestor that sits atop the family trees of bands like My Morning Jacket and Dead Confederate.

In many ways, Young has finally grown into the cranky old man that, in many ways he’s always been. By the shear task of remaining relevant, Young dodges any irony inherent in the chorus “Hey Hey My My” by proving that burning out or fading away aren’t the only choices. Some of his songs have evolved with him; “Old Man” could seem anachronistic coming out of the sextogenarian’s mouth but Young’s shifted roles, grudgingly becoming the old man from his Harvest era classic, living the song’s adage with his wife Pegi singing by his side. Others have come full circle; when Young wrote “Rockin’ In The Free World” in the early 90s, he was railing against the hypocrisy of the Bush Presidency. Years later, the song still resonates with meaning, only it’s about finding hopes in the aftermath of a different Bush’s legacy.

Young has kept his setlist relatively stable over the course of his tour and it’s expertly geared towards 70s style arena rock like “Everybody Knows This Is Nowhere” and “Cowgirl In The Sand.” Over the course of the tour, Young has insinuated pre-recording workouts of newer material into the show and the middle and latter parts of the evening consisted of previews of the relatively unfamiliar fare. But for the singer, many of the new songs didn’t feel like they had earned the right to be played at Madison Square Garden. Perhaps the impending end of the Bush regime has left Young without a proper catalyst to inspire the proper amount of outrage. After all, once Batman vanquishes The Joker, he moves on to The Penguin, Riddler or Catwoman. Thematically tied to the environment, Young’s newer songs which lacked the texture and heart of his older material: “Cough Up The Bucks” had a harsh, choppy chorus creepily reminiscent of his Trans-era experimentations and “Fuel Line” ran on fumes.

During the barrage of the recently written, the nostalgia-inspired excitement expectedly waned. Young’s salvaged this part of his two and a half hour set with a primarily acoustic section centered on “The Needle And The Damage Done” “Heart Of Gold,” “Old Man” and a wonderful take on Harvest Moon’s “Unknown Legend.” Young can still muster the same indignant wails or mournful country purrs from his distinctive voice and it adds a weary dimension to his softer work. For someone that can generate an overpowering onslaught, it’s Young’s reflective heartfelt moments that resonate the deepest.

Young has always been find beauty in the noise and he’s never flinched at the prospect of commercial or critical failure. That reckless spirit still lives within Young. To close the night, Young and his band tackled The Beatles’ nearly uncoverable “A Day In The Life,” finishing the song with a wall of feedback that became a backdrop for a revival of the song’s dreamy harmonies as a psychedelic peyote chant. Even when venturing into sacred and familiar ground, Young continues to find a way to transform it into his own inimitable style.

Labels: Neil Young

Farm Aid announced the lineup for their first ever benefit in New York City, which will take place September 9th on Randall's Island. Joining founders John Mellencamp, Neil Young, Willie Nelson and their fellow board member Dave Matthews will be The Allman Brothers Band, Counting Crows, Matisyahu, Guster, The Derek Trucks Band, Warren Haynes, Supersuckers, The Ditty Bops, Montgomery Gentry and Tim Reynolds. Plans are for Mellencamp, Nelson, Young, Matthews & Reynolds and the Allmans to play full sets.

Farm Aid can trace their genesis to Bob Dylan's off-the-cuff comment at Live Aid. To the rumored anger of Bob Geldof, the always outspoken singer suggested that perhaps some of the money raised could be given to American farmers to help pay off their mortgages. The original Farm Aid, held in Champaign, Illinois, featured such varied acts as Lou Reed, Don Henley and the first performance of the Sammy Hagar led Van Halen. The 2007 all-day event will be the organization's 21st benefit since 1985.

Labels: Dave Matthews Band, Farm Aid, John Mellencamp, Neil Young, Willie Nelson

By: David Schultz

More than 25 years ago, John Mellencamp began his career under the name John Cougar, a name he claimed was foisted upon him in a calculated A&R move to boost album sales and increase radio airplay. Once he had achieved a modicum of success, Mellencamp secured the return of his true surname, spending the next decade releasing material as John Cougar Mellencamp. In 1991, Mellencamp finally shed the Cougar, seemingly regaining every ounce of his artistic integrity. Given Mellencamp's tireless efforts to rid his populist work of any corporate influence, the ultra-ubiquitous use of his latest single "Our Country" in conjunction with the promotion of the Chevy Silverado bears every indicia of "corporate sellout." Long gone are the days when PETA member Chrissie Hynde goes to a Gap outlet and knifes a bunch of leather jackets simply because the shopping mall mainstays requested her consent to use one of her songs in a Gap commercial.

To say that the profitable nature of the record business has skyrocketed since the days of Buddy Holly and "Rock Around The Clock" would be an understatement of gargantuan proportion. The evolution of the "music business" has oftentimes seen the focus placed more on business than music. Basic corporate concepts such as skillful marketing plans, profit maximization and good old Gordon Gekko greed, once inimical to the artistry of the music profession, are now commonplace. On one hand, debuting "Our Country" as a placard for the automotive industry could be considered good marketing, but it also qualifies as just another moment in the uncomfortable marriage between art and commerce . . . and not even one of the more egregious ones. What follows are the ten most severe instances of the artistic vision coming under attack by the corporate mindset.

10. Ed Sullivan Tells The Rolling Stones and The Doors To Keep It Clean

Given Janet Jackson's "wardrobe malfunction" at the 2004 Super Bowl, it seems almost quaint that CBS and Ed Sullivan once worried about suggestive lyrics being sung on The Ed Sullivan Show. In 1967, The Rolling Stones were slated to make an anxiously anticipated appearance on the legendary variety show and sing "Let's Spend The Night Together." Concerned that the lyrics, tame by today's standards, could prove offensive, CBS censors asked Mick Jagger to change the words. Under threats of being taken off the air if he sang the "offensive" lyric, Jagger complied, rolling his eyes while warbling "let's spend some 'time' together." [The BBC wasn't as prudish] Later that year, the Sullivan show made a similar request to another high-profile artist, but with much different results, Worried that the line, "Girl, we couldn't get much higher," from The Doors' "Light My Fire" promoted drug use, CBS asked The Doors to change the lyric. Playing live without a delay - ah, the trusting pre-wardrobe malfunction era - Jim Morrison got right up into the camera and, much to the dismay of CBSand Sullivan, not only delivered the line unedited, accentuated "higher." The network's crusade to protect tender sensibilities from suggestive rock and roll lyrics didn't succeed. In the aftermath, the two songs went on to be played on classic rock radio a few hundred thousand times without corrupting the nation's youth. However, the same Puritan attitudes exhibited by CBS and those that monitor and oversee network television persist today; Janet Jackson's left breast has not been seen in public since 2004 (at least not without a hand covering it) and the repercussions of her "wardrobe malfunction" are still being felt on network TV and commercial radio.

9. Sony Infects Its Customers' Computers In The Name Of Combating Illegal Copying

In 2005, according to the New York Attorney General, BMG Music placed XCP and MediaMax DRM copy restriction software on a number of CDs, including releases by Trey Anastasio and the Black Rebel Motorcycle Club. The software installed its own CD playback software and prevented the music from being downloaded onto the purchaser's computer in an iPOD compatible format. While Sony portrayed their effort as an ideological blow against the illegal copying and exchanging of copyrighted music, it seemed more of a thumb in the nose to the increasingly popular proliferation of Apple's iTunes. In making sure that their programs went undisturbed and iPOD unfriendly, Sony installed cloaking software that not only rendered them undetectable, it interfered with the way Windows played compact discs, opened security holes that permitted viruses to enter the user's system and transmitted certain data to Sony/BMG from the user's computer. When the problems became known to Sony, they acted arrogantly and denied culpability, drawing the ire of Attorney Generals in New York and Massachusetts. By the time Sony was finished making sure no one publicly or privately duplicated their music, they ceased implementing the software, had to offer "patches" the fix the damage done to their customers' computers and faced a class action lawsuit.

8. The Fan Club Pre-Sale Goes Corporate

Many artists have made a practice of allowing registered members of their fan club to purchase tickets for their shows in advance of the general public. For most fan clubs, membership is free and takes only a minute to complete the online form. Savvy marketers that they are, The Rolling Stones were one of the first artists to take the concept one step further, charging a hefty membership fee for inclusion in their fan club. Other bands like The Who, U2 and recently The Police picked up on the practice, which amounts simply to a premium payment of usually $60 or more, for the right to buy advance tickets. Sad enough that bands found a new way to extract money from their fans' wallets, corporate marketers have recently latched on to this trick. For the recent Best Buy sponsored reunion of The Police, members of Best Buy's Rewards Program had the opportunity to purchase tickets even before The Police's fan club, whose membership fee is $100. Norah Jones' recent concert at the Theater at Madison Square Garden was practically sold out through the Target pre-sale by the time tickets were made available to the rest of her non-Target shopping fans. Corporate sponsorship has become an accepted practice within the touring world, but when purchasing preference of quality concert tickets becomes a Best Buy, Target or any other corporate benefit, it's the fans who will truly suffer.

7. The Grateful Dead Removes Their Soundboards From the Live Music Archives

Inherent to The Grateful Dead's mystique was their willingness to permit their fans to bootleg and trade their live shows. Long before other bands would recognize the benefits to be reaped from the free exchange of live music, The Dead created the model from which they would work. With the advent of the Live Music Archives at archive.org, Deadheads entered the digital age, flooding the site with multiple copies of nearly every Dead show ever played; all with the permission and consent of the venerable San Francisco band. The Grateful Dead were not the first band to change their mind about the availability of their shows on the Archives, but their about-face stung their fans the most.



Citing the detrimental effect on present and future archival CD and DVD releases, the Grateful Dead, upon the initiative of Bob Weir, Bill Kreutzmann and Mickey Hart, revoked the consent that permitted the Archives to act as a conduit for the exchange of the Dead's shows, denying fans the opportunity to obtain the music for free so that it could be sold to them in the future. "When the music was given away for free to trade, the band was making so much money touring that the music was not as valuable to them," explained Marc Schiller, who assists the Dead with their online marketing. "Apple iTunes has made digital downloads a business." The Dead underestimated the angry, aggrieved response from their fans: like dire wolves they howled vociferously, adamantly pointing to Jerry Garcia's numerous statements that the music belonged to the fans. Bassist Phil Lesh even chimed in to express his bewilderment over the entire issue. Ultimately, a compromise was reached: fans would still be able to freely download shows recorded by their peers but the better-quality soundboard recordings would remain available as streaming audio only - that is, until the Dead decide to release the show commercially and remove it from circulation.

6. John Fogerty Gets Sued For Plagiarizing Himself

In 1985, John Fogerty, the most identifiable member of Creedence Clearwater Revival, released Centerfield, the album that marked the high-water mark of his post-Creedence recording career. As Fogerty had assigned the copyrights to his CCR material to Saul Zaentz' Fantasy Records as part of a deal to get out of his contract, he was loathe to play his old material lest he generate royalties for Zaentz, a man he despised. Once Centerfield, which contained the scathingly derogatory "Zanz Can't Dance" (ultimately changed to "Vanz Kant Danz"), became a certified hit for Warner Bros., Zaenz retaliated as only a scorned corporate mogul can. In a fit of pique, Zaentz sued Fogerty for infringing the copyrights he held on Fogerty's Creedence Clearwater Revival material. Claiming that Fogerty's hit single "Old Man Down The Road" sounded too similar to Creedence's "Run Through The Jungle," Fantasy Records sued Fogerty, marking the first time in history that a label sued a musician for sounding like themselves. Although the Court declined to set a precedent that a musician cannot plagiarize from himself, Fogerty did win at trial. With guitar in hand, Fogerty took the witness stand and took the jury through the songwriting process of each song, showing that a musician can have an archetypal sound without borrowing from past successes. As Fogerty hadn't played Creedence songs in years, seats for the gallery were filled for his performance/testimony. "I was accused of ripping off myself," Fogerty later marveled. "The little boy in me envisions the day I'll actually segue from 'Old Man' right into 'Run Through the Jungle.'"

5. EMI Sees Things In Black And White – Not Grey

Before DJ Danger Mouse became a household name as the skinnier half of Gnarls Barkley, he stood poised to become a highly publicized defendant to a copyright infringement suit at the hands of EMI. Mixing Jay-Z's raps from The Black Album with musical snippets from The Beatles' White Album, Danger Mouse, nee Brian Joseph Burton, created the cleverly-named The Grey Album. Danger Mouse pressed only 3000 copies: none of which he sold, giving them away to his friends instead. However, in the age of the Internet, The Grey Album became a digital success story with copies being downloaded in record numbers. By exposing Beatles fans to Jay-Z and vice versa, Danger Mouse's 2004 venture transcended the lines that usually bracket musical genres, creating an interpretive work to be enjoyed by everyone . . . except EMI Records. While Sony Music/ATV Publishing, a venture between Sony Music and Michael Jackson, own the publishing side of The Beatles catalog, EMI controls The Beatles' sound recordings on behalf of Capitol Records, Inc. At the peak of The Grey Album's success, the hyper-vigilant EMI sent cease-and-desist letters to Danger Mouse and independent retail outlets carrying the album, effectively ceasing distribution of one of rock's most inventive musical works. The concept of reworking Beatles music and vocals in fresh combinations wouldn't be forgotten though. Two years later, EMI would release Love, a recombination of Beatles music overseen by producer George Martin and his son Giles.

4. Ticketmaster Crushes Pearl Jam

At the apex of their early 90s success, Pearl Jam got the bizarre notion in their head that tickets prices for their shows should be kept reasonable, somewhere around $20. Raining on the grunge rockers parade, Ticketmaster's service charges rendered such a dream relatively impossible. When Ticketmaster proved to be killjoy, remaining inflexible on Pearl Jam's demands that they soften their policies on excessive service fees, Pearl Jam refused to play any arena that sold tickets through Ticketmaster. Quickly, they learned that practically every arena in the United States had an exclusive ticket sales agreement with Ticketmaster and that the corporate behemoth threatened lawsuits against any promoter or arena that breached it by using another distributor. Left with no method of selling tickets, Pearl Jam cancelled their 1994 summer tour and brought an antitrust suit alleging that Ticketmaster used a monopolistic domination of the ticket distribution industry to secure a near 30% markup on tickets sales. In the band's view, Ticketmaster was taking unfair advantage of adolescent passion while unreasonably exploiting a marketplace in which they had no competition. Pearl Jam may have won a fleeting battle when Jeff Ament and Stone Gossard testified before Congress but ultimately Ticketmaster would win the war. By 1995, Congress decided against further investigating Ticketmaster's business practices and Pearl Jam's antitrust lawsuit proved unsuccessful. In 1998, heeding the complaints of their fans, who had difficulty acquiring tickets through alternative distributors, the grunge godfathers returned to Ticketmaster arenas. A true victory in every sense of the word for Ticketmaster, their service charges have doubled since the conflict ended.

3. Geffen Sues Neil Young For Not Sounding Like Neil Young

In 1983, David Geffen enticed Neil Young to sign with Geffen Records for considerably less money than Shakey was being offered elsewhere. The incentive that brought Young into Geffen's fold was the assurance that he could make whatever records he wanted without commercial restraint. Right off the bat, Young explored the new found territories of his freedom, testing the patience of his new label by experimenting with computer generated synth-rock and recording Trans, which gave the world an opportunity to hear what might have happened had "Mr. Soul" been recorded by robots. For his next effort, Young recorded Everybody's Rockin', an album of middling Fifties-style rockabilly tunes. Despite the fact that Young was exerting the exact creative freedom promised to him, Geffen wondered exactly they were getting out of their deal and sued Young for making "uncharacteristic music with no chance of commercial success." Even though Trans and Everybody's Rockin' peaked respectively at #19 and #46 on Billboard's album charts, Geffen seemed miffed that they didn't sound like Harvest or Tonight's The Night and demanded the return of $3 million dollars advanced to Young. In response, Young countersued for $21 million, the value of the entire deal. Although the matter ultimately settled, Geffen Records lost some credibility as a label with a commitment to fostering artistic creativity. Backtracking from the allegations of the suit, Geffen later tried to justify it, "The truth is I fought with [Young] because I wanted him to do better work."

2. The "Special Edition" CD

When music fans worldwide embraced compact disc technology in the Eighties, record companies salivated over the ability to sell them music they already owned, albeit in a higher-quality medium. Over the past 25 years, practically every major, minor and obscure album has been released on CD, leaving the labels with the quandary of having to come up with new music for the public to purchase. From this dilemma sprung the insidious creation of the "special edition" CD. Relying on fans' obsession to own the highest quality version of their favorite album, labels "remastered" them, tacked on a couple outtakes and re-released it in an effort to seek an additional $13.99. Already purchased Aqualung on CD? Well, too bad, because now you missed out on the "special edition" containing an interview with Ian Anderson and alternate versions of three songs off their earlier albums. The practice has pervaded practically any new re-issue. For example, although long available on CD, Arista re-released Patti Smith's Horses as a remastered special edition containing one solitary bonus track ("My Generation") and a "legacy edition" containing a second disc with a live performance of Horses. While nicely packaged and presented, the practice smacks of charging full price for an already available product with little fresh material. The practice has spread to Greatest Hits reissues as well. What better way to boost sales for Aerosmith's fourth Greatest Hits collection than to add on a couple rushed together new songs? Even when the re-issue does it right, like the "special edition" of Bruce Springsteen's Born To Run, the labels use the bona fide extras (e.g. concert footage, classic photos and copious liner notes) as an excuse to obscenely jack up the price.

1. Woodstock 99

Raping their own legacy and sinking to deplorable depths of capitalistic corporate behavior, Woodstock's organizers tried one last time to milk a dollar out of 3 more days of peace love and music. To counteract the storied legions of festival-goers who crashed the gates at the original Bethel, NY concert and its 1994 Saugerties, NY sequel, Woodstock 99 took place at the well-defended Griffiss Air Force Base in Rome, NY. The fenced in, concrete covered space not only kept anyone without a $150 ticket (a steep price at that time) outside the gates, it also trapped in the 90 degree heat. Bringing life to the grizzly yet surefire marketing concept of selling water in the desert, the festival's organizers were more than happy to hydrate the sweltering fans - for $6 a bottle. Contrary to the spirit of brotherhood fostered at the original Woodstock, everything at Woodstock 99 was for sale, with corporate tents and ATMs set up throughout the grounds. By Sunday night, the breaking point had been reached. Limp Bizkit's "Break Stuff" seemed to inspire many in the crowd to recklessness and by the time the Red Hot Chili Peppers launched into Jimi Hendrix' "Fire," rowdy, lawless fans had attacked numerous booths, ruined a great deal of merchandise and destroyed the Woodstock myth beyond repair. Woodstock 99's desire to wring every last cent out of their franchise, to the point of turning the crowd into a dehydrated, captive mass of marketing targets for food, water and merchandise, created the circumstances that led to the perfect storm of revolt against the "noble" corporate goal of maximizing profits at the expenses of the most communal, anti-commercial festival in rock and roll history.

Labels: Beatles, Creedence Clearwater Revival, DJ Danger Mouse, Grateful Dead, Jay-Z, John Fogerty, Lists, Neil Young, Pearl Jam, The Doors, The Rolling Stones, Woodstock

Neil Young is releasing a set of previously unreleased live and studio tracks assembled from earlier days in his career. His Archives Volume 1 will consist of eight CDs and two DVDs and will be out later in the year. But, first Young is putting out a live solo cd, Live At Massey Hall, which was recorded in January 1971 in Toronto, Canada.

Garbage is set to hit the studio to record some new music. Drummer Butch Vig reportedly told MTV: "We're recording a couple new songs at the end of February. I think everyone's excited about getting back in a room and playing some music together. We've been working on it for a while. There was originally talk about doing a B-side and remix CD as well. I'm not sure what we'll do, but we have a lot of B-sides and remixes over the years, so it would be cool to see that come out in a proper package for our hardcore fans."

Ted Leo and the Pharmacists have a new record due out in March. Meanwhile, catch "The Sons of Cain" here. Another indie buzz band, Arcade Fire, are also readying new material. Their new record is called Neon Bible. You can listen to the track "Black Mirror" here.

Brooklyn's Pela, who struck me as very nice guys when I got to hang a bit with them in Philadelphia last summer, have announced a deal with Great Society records and will be putting out a full length disc in April. The band has a great live show and worth checking out if you haven't seen them yet.

For those who like a genre mixing, check out this track with a little Biggie, Tupac and others mixed over a mash-up of David Bowie's "Fame" and Lou Reed's "Walk on the Wild Side."

Keller Williams got a bunch of friends together for his new record. Dream hits stores in February and includes appearances by Béla Fleck, Bob Weir, Michael Franti, Steve Kimock, The String Cheese Incident, Victor Wooten and a host of others.

Labels: Arcade Fire, David Bowie, Garbage, Lou Reed, Neil Young, Ted Leo