Last weekend, in Lena, IL we held our seventh annual wine party. "We" consisted of four married couples in our late fifties to mid-sixties. What started as an impromptu gathering at our house over a couple of bottles of wine and some cheese, has blossomed into a yearly event with wine we've bought on vacation or tasted elsewhere and think is good enough to share. The wine is accompanied by a four or five course meal.
We've known each other for many years and everyone has different tastes in wine and, more importantly, music. During the party, we were asked to identify our favorite songs -- we each provided three anonymous "all time favorites" -- to be identified by the person selecting them. We were to guess who picked them.
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I never fell under their Scandinavian voodoo charms, never went to Halloween dressed in hot pants, glitter and pantsuits (Paul you never looked better), never bought one of their albums, and never dreamed about walking on the beach with Agnetha, Benny, Bjorn or Frida.
My money was better spent on Nazareth (Love Hurts), Mountain (Mississippi Queen) and Billy Pau (Me and Mrs. Jones). Now THOSE were good songs. Come on -- you must admit, just reading the titles brings the tune to mind. So what if they never went to number one or the artist was never never heard from again.
Not everyone can have my good taste in music.
I remind my wife of that all the time. Seriously. Somehow she still doesn't like Yes, Jethro Tull, or Kiss. I'll admit (under the influence of enough Pino Gris) some of their songs are pretty hard to listen to. Geddy Lee's early singing voice could peel the paint off a wall and Yes' Tales From Topographic Oceans still leads people down a rabbit hole..
Where was I?
Oh yes, now I remember. If my parents were still alive, I'd be on my knees asking for forgiveness for playing my music through three-foot tall speakers in their living room. In retrospect, it makes perfect sense that I should get headphones for Christmas one year. And it explains why they were so happy to see me move to Madison. The first things they packed were the speakers.
The problem with asking someone their favorite song is it removes so many other good songs that would qualify given a different state of mind, a few more glasses of wine or maybe you just haven't heard them in a while. You can also argue your taste changes as you get older. I wouldn't listen to Frank Sinatra croon over Lady Luck when I was eighteen, but I love listening to him now. Thanks to Pandora radio, I love "Con Te Partiro" and "Una Notte a Napoli" by the Pink Martinis, whom I didn't even know existed 10 years ago, but today make me want to to grab my wife and dance the Rumba. Surely those two songs deserve to be on my favorite's list.
Some songs "age" better than others -- think songs from the disco years -- while others reflect popular movies or outrageous outfits that fool listeners into thinking the band is cool, and by association so are their songs. KISS is a perfect example, since neither Gene Simmons or Paul Stanley could hold a tune if their lives depended on it. But their girlfriends were awesome and their stage show blew your mind with fire, smoke, rising drum sets and a blood-puking God of Thunder. A band that will go un-named (but was strangely popular at the wine party) fooled people into buying their records by being blonde, beautiful and -- depending on your eyesight -- resembling a singing disco ball.
So when we were asked to name our favorite songs, I had a really hard time coming up with just three. Maybe it's the quiescent disc jockey in me, but I could fill a whole night with my favorite songs. Given everyone's varied tastes and some people's affection for pantsuits that glitter, it's impossible to agree on great songs much less the best.
Rolling Stone Magazine recently released the Greatest 500 Songs of All Time, which was compiled from 250 artists, musicians and producers. So not normal people like you and me. I used to like Rolling Stone Magazine in college, but not so much anymore. A lot of things have changed since college (for example, I was one of 10,000 people who showed up in front of Memorial Union during the seventies in a toga looking for a good time) so my time in Madison should get the honest scrutiny it deserves. Somehow, Missy Elliot had two top 100 hits, "Get Ur Freak On" and "Work It," both of which placed higher than the Animal's "House of the Rising Sun" and Van Morrison's "Brown Eyed Girl." .Apparently, smoking pot and shooting acid destroys more than just a few brain cells. It appears to have replaced the coolness of Woodstock's rebellion against the Vietnam War and conformity with the uniform stupidity of wokenss and Black Lives Matter.
Say goodbye to the hippy flower pots and excess armpit hair and say hello to the iPhone revolution and the social consciousness of today's Hip Hop generation!
Last week, a friend (who will go un-named, but who used to wish anyone from ABBA was on the back of his motorcycle) asked me to check out a website called setlist.fm for concerts that were held at Mary E Sawyer Auditorium in La Crosse. What a great site. It brought back so many memories from my adolescence.
From 1955 to 1987, Mary E Sawyer was the place in La Crosse to hold concerts. It also was the venue for three U.S. presidential visits and a lot of university and high school sporting events. It's where a friend, who couldn't play a note, snuck in with the Central pep band just to watch a basketball game. I'm still surprised our band director didn't wonder who the extra trombone player was sitting in his band, but then again, our band instructor was rumored to drink a little and even entertain a high school girl in his car while parked on the bluff.
Despite a capacity of only 4,000, the Mary E Sawyer welcomed many up and coming bands like Heart, Journey, Rush, Kansas, Styx, KISS, Little River Band, Queen and Van Halen. Many were opening acts for bigger bands like The Cars, Fleetwood Mac, Foreigner and ELO. Tickets for events back in the Seventies were $8.50 for many of these concerts, featuring one, two and sometimes three musical groups.
Is there a better list of big time performers than that? What a time to be a teenage boy discovering acne, hot chicks and rock and roll! Could kids today have the same experience? I don't know, but given the state of high schools and colleges, I doubt it. Hard to relate to songs advocating the burning of police stations and looting Target stores, much less making love to gender-neutral pronouns.
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In March of 1975, Billy Joel had scored two Top 40 hits, "Piano Man" and "The Entertainer." That should have made him a big draw for the Mary E Sawyer Auditorium, but apparently not. The concert -featuring Billy and Al Steward (from "Year of the Cat" fame), was cancelled because only 120 tickets had been sold. Twenty years later, Liz and I saw him in the Twin Cities at the sold-out Target Center. It was packed, with over 20,000 people!
It is said Billy played that night at the Holiday Inn on the pike between La Crosse and La Crescent. What I wouldn't give to have been there.
Another performer, Elvis Pressley, made his first-ever Wisconsin performance at the Mary E Sawyer Auditorium in May, 1956. It caused such teenage disorder in the city that editorials in the paper blasted the promoter and those playing Presley records. Pressure was put on radio stations to stop playing Elvis records. It was a time for fearing anything or anyone exploring new ideas in popular music. It even prompted The La Crosse Register to send a letter to Edgar Hoover of the FBI claiming Elvis was "a definite danger to the security of the United States."
From the letter sent to the FBI -- "... Presley's actions and motions were such as to rouse the sexual passions of teenaged youth. One witness described his actions as "sexual self-gratification on the stage," -- another as a "striptease with clothes on."
Supporting evidence included a reporter's version of the show -- "Elvis leaned back, opened his white silk shirt and a great expanse of bare chest appeared. He grabbed the microphone. The drummer thumped his tom-toms and the guitar player stroked his instrument. The bass fiddle player thumped sensuously in the background."
"After the show more than 1,000 teenagers tried to gang into Presley's room at the auditorium, then at the Stoddard Hotel. All possible police on duty were necessary at the Hotel to keep watch on the teenagers milling about the hotel until after 3 a.m.".
Lindy Shannon, La Crosse's Godfather of La Crosse rock and roll contributed this memory, years later --
"...I recall the commotion he caused after the concert when hordes of teens blocked traffic in front of the hotel, hoping for a glimpse of their idol. Police tried in vain to disperse the crowd, but they wouldn't leave until Elvis waved and stuck his leg out the fourth floor window and wiggled it madly. This seemed to satisfy all but two over-excited city school girls who climbed the hotel fire escape and somehow managed to gain entrance to Elvis' room. The only other person there besides Elvis was the RCA Victor record salesman from Milwaukee who later told me what happened during those few bizarre moments."
"The girls began sobbing wildly, pulled up their Sloppy Joe sweaters and insisted that Elvis autograph their breasts. Elvis told them they would have to leave the room and he ushered them to the door. Later that night the girls apparently had an autograph session of their own, and after much boasting to their school friends the next day, their hero's signature was discovered on their bosoms by some teachers."
Crazy stuff, huh? -- you hear about such things from the Beatles and Elvis all the time. But in La Crosse? Their songs are certainly on my favorite song list, but my fanaticism only goes so far as buying their music. I wonder if my friends at the wine party have private tattoos with I Love Abba written on their butts. Or maybe a piece of fabric from one of their pantsuits they keep next to their beds. You never know what members of the unofficial "Mama Mia" fan club will do.
This year's wine party introduced music into the annual event, and it was great, even if it meant watching them dance around the table singing "Dancing Queen." Despite their reaction, the most important thing for me was this -- picking three of your favorite songs was meant to provide a bit of fun, food for thought, and good-humored debate. Maybe even prompt a post for Squirrel Factory.
And to be honest, I loved that my friends thought enough of me to secretly arrange for all of those Abba songs to be played. The way I look at it, with all the cancel culture and WOKE insanity everywhere you look, we need a little more love in our lives.
Even if it's sung by Abba.
Viva il vino!
