The things I had somebody took away

The wildest things we'd ever seen

Odds and Sods.....

I've been listening lately to the vinyl of the best album the E Street Band never made -- Gary U.S. Bonds' "On the Line."

Except they did make it. Bonds is backed by the E Streeters on a remarkably solid set of tunes, seven written by Springsteen himself. And the album's closer, "Last Time" is one of Miami Steve's best efforts. It doesn't quite take me back to Kingsley Avenue in Asbury Park like Southside's "This Time it's for Real," but it does the trick. This was Springsteen at the height of his power, when he could give away songs of this caliber.  An album worth seeking out, vinyl or otherwise.

I've searched all for my life to songs that reflect me, my story. I've posted some of them in this blog. I've attempted to do it myself with my limited musical ability. So I've tried to post them, some in this blog.

But perhaps the best answer is action, you know, speaks louder than words and all that.

I've been thinking about mortality a lot lately. You can't escape it. Wills and the future and what's left behind, if anything. Where does it all end? When does it all end? And does it matter?

I don't see too many new "adult" movies. Tonight I watched "Manchester by the Sea," an unflinching study on profound grief. A grief that can subside but that never disappear.

Sometimes I think that's where I live, the sadness ebbing and flowing. But every day you wake up and it's still there. No pity, as some is self-inflected. But some hasn't been.

The protagonist in "Manchester by the Sea" says that he "can't get past it." For some, it's uphill all the way.

Springsteen was once asked why he keeps going for three hours, night after night, when he could just do a rote 90 minutes, play the hits and get out.

"You can't save everyone," he said. "But you gotta try."

Even if the only person you are trying to save is yourself.

Love on the Wrong Side of Town

'The past is never past. The past is always present." 

Bruce Springsteen

I'm comin' back, back for what's mine"
Little Steven (Miami Steve) Van Zandt

Bringing me back here is release of Little Steven's "Soulfire," a record that harkens back to the glorious sounds of Asbury Park.

My favorite album from that era, Southside Johnny's "This Time's it's for Real," is muddy and drenched in Shore Soul. And it's glorious.

"Soulfire" is an update of those sounds, although with a fresh kick, sonically and otherwise. Of course, covering two gems from that Jukes' album (including the monumental "Some Things Just Don't Change") helps things along material-wise. But it's universally strong, the only flaw is just a bit too much reliance on lyric-repeating backup vocalists.

So, I've gone back to 'This Time," when the world held so much possibility, so much hope.

So long ago.

On this Memorial Day, I am revisiting those days (see my thoughts on the real meaning of Memorial here), while looking to the new chapter about to begin.

"Soulfire" is sort of musical rebirth for Van Zandt. Musically, he didn't need a second chance; his first chance was a home run. With Springsteen, with the Jukes, his solo stuff.

Someone of us need a second chance. But we have to make the conscious decision to go after the opportunity.

All it takes is some guts. May the future have as much clarity as "Soulfire."

You can say what you wanna, but ain't nothin' gonna change my mind

Saw Southside Johnny and the Asbury Jukes over the weekend, in one of their rare forays into the South. (South goes South, as it were...)

No original Jukes remain, with Mr. Lyon carrying the torch from the Jersey Shore.

The show had it high points, but was endearingly sloppy. Southside at one point said to the crowd: "We're making it up as we go along."

There were several moments when that seemed true, for sure.

Still, any show that contains this is worth getting off your couch for:

I dearly love this song, so I will post this as well, if only for the staggering energy:

The 70s: After the music had stopped, I still heard it playing

That's not my Pinto parked next to the Stone Pony;
my '74 Pinto was brown....

By the time I first got to Asbury Park in about 1975, it was starting to fade. The glory days were passing it by, fast.

But its soul remained intact, as evidenced by the music. The sound of the shore -- the soundtrack to those sticky summer nights, when freedom and possibility were straight ahead and not in the rear view mirror.

Hot dogs at Mrs. Jays, cars dragging up and Kingsley Avenue, Cokes at the HoJos, elbow to elbow at the Stone Pony and Fast Lane.

And this blasting from the Torino's 8-track.

All night long.

So he put all his money in a hole in the ground....

Fake drums, cheesy synthesizers, false sheen and bravado, even our old friend arrogance. Reeking of cheapness and trash.

Yet, oddly affecting and catchy, even.

I see its appeal – and a low-rent description, so to speak, also certainly befits any song that features mentions of the definition of trash(y), Frederick’s of Hollywood.

Still, an interesting period piece for Southside, but no “Hearts of Stone” for sure.

Song of the Day -- Sept. 24, 2013

Look now baby, and see what we have undone

Kevin Kavanaugh was the first "rock star" who ever took the time to talk to me.

You might think the original pianist for Southside Johnny and the Asbury Jukes was not a "rock star" and you would be right, at least in the traditional sense.

But the fact that he spent 10-15 minutes talking to me before a Jukes show in Mansfield, PA, around 1977 or so made him a rock star in my eyes. We spoke about their first couple of albums, the sounds of Asbury Park and why Beaver Brown could probably not escape the long shadow of Springsteen. We also talked about our favorite bands and what my favorite Jukes song was ("Sweeter than Honey"). And then when he actually recognized me and spoke with me again for a short time a year or so later at the The Stone Pony; well, not only did he play in one of my favorite bands, it proved to me that he really was a nice guy. And genuine to boot.

His melodic work graced some of the Jukes' best songs, including the seminal "Hearts of Stone" album.

Southside Johnny and the Asbury Jukes never quite made the big time. But for several years, I followed them from the Stone Pony to places like Bucknell, Bloomsburg, Trenton and the afore-mentioned Mansfield State College (now University), among others.

They did more than just fill in the gaps when Springsteen wasn't touring. They were a sweating, rollicking encyclopedia of rhythm and blues and soul, and quite possibly the best bar band of all the bar bands. And by the time of "Hearts of Stone," with a handful of sterling Van Zandt/Springsteen originals, they were one of the top 3-4 bands period in the country.

They were plenty big time to me.

Especially Kevin Kavanaugh, who died last week at the too-young-age of 58.

"Love on the Wrong Side of Town"
(THE Jukes lineup; look at those suits......and one of my favorite Asbury Jukes songs, with Kevin Kavanaugh playing piano and singing backup)

Strictly 100: Number 26 - Southside Johnny and the Asbury Jukes