Dez Reviews Bruce Springsteen's 'High Hopes' (2014) and Offers Some Thoughts On Modern Boss

I've never trusted Bruce Springsteen as an editor. How do you explain the fact that songs like "The Fever," "Thundercrack," "Fire," "Because the Night," "The Promise," etc. never made it onto proper albums? How do you explain why Springsteen has never released the Main Point show from '75? The Winterlands show from '78? (Pristine bootlegs exist, I've got them. They will absolutely knock you on your ass). His new record, High Hopes, is only sort of new. It is comprised of tunes from the last 12 years that didn't make it on to one of the seven albums he has released since 2001. There are three covers (songs by The Havalinas, The Saints and Suicide), some leftovers and a couple of remakes of already released tunes. Doesn't sound that substantial, does it? Afterall, how bad does a tune have to be to not make the cut for 2009's Working on a Dream (tied with 1992's Human Touch as his worst album).

I am pleased to report that High Hopes ranks amongst the best of his post-2001 work (up there with The Rising and Magic). The fact is, most of these songs are much better than almost all of Working on a Dream. Again, perhaps Bruce is not the best judge of his own work.

By its very nature, High Hopes is not a very coherent record. It lacks the thematic arc of each of the previous seven records. But that, I argue, is one of its several saving graces. There is no overall theme here, but it still holds together enough to be a real album vs. an odds 'n sods collection. In his liner notes, Springsteen says that these tunes were "among the best of my writing [from this period] and deserved a proper studio recording." He is right. His new best buddy Tom Morello (formerly of Rage Against the Machine) plays on seven of the twelve tracks, sometimes adding killer and edgy guitar textures, at other times sounding very out of place. Morello has become an unofficial E Streeter, having filled in for Steve Van Zandt on legs of the last tour, and serving as Bruce's "muse" on this record (his words). They give their now famous duet on Bruce's "The Ghost of Tom Joad" a proper studio rendition, even trading vocals on verses. Bruce and Morello exchange fiery guitar solos, although this admittedly works better in the live setting (download the live version from Magic Tour Highlights on iTunes).

"American Skin (41 Shots)" first appeared on a live record from 1999. A controversial song written about the police shooting of Amadou Diallo in New York, he has resurrected the song in the wake of the Trayvon Martin shooting. I may not agree with Bruce's politics here (I often don't), but I cannot deny that "American Skin" is one of the best songs he has written in 25 years. The live version had some flaws associated with it being a concert recording, and the song desperately needed a proper studio recording. It is a centerpiece here, and rightfully so. People either really like the song or don't, I think it ranks amongst his best modern work.

Other highlights include the moody "Down in the Hole," with a smooth and brooding rhythm that recalls "I'm On Fire." "Frankie Fell In Love" is a joyous song of bromance along the lines of "No Surrender" or "Bobby Jean," a song that would have sounded at home on the stripped down rocking side of The River. In his notes, Bruce says the song reflects "shades of Steve [Van Zandt] and I bumming together in our Asbury Park apartment." With great throwaway lines like "World peace is gonna break out / From here on in we're eatin' take out," Bruce hasn't been this whimsical in a long time.

Along with "American Skin," the other clear highlight is "The Wall." A real stunner, Bruce uses most of his space in his liner notes talking about this song, which was written about Jersey rocker Walter Cichon of The Motifs. The Motifs were early musical heroes of Bruce's, "raw, sexy and rebellious, they were heroes you aspired to be," he writes in the liner notes. In the song, Bruce sings "Your high boots and striped t-shirt / Billy you looked so bad / you and your rock and roll band / you were the best thing this sh*t town ever had." Cichon was drafted in Vietnam, and went missing in action. So the song is from the perspective of visiting the Vietnam Memorial in D.C. one evening and talking to Cichon. It is a beautiful and haunting song (all the more as it features wonderful organ from deceased E Streeter Danny Federici).

This song is a key to why this is one of his best records in two decades. Springsteen's records have become more political since 2001. It worked on The Rising as a response and reflection of loss from 9/11, that record has only gotten better with age. But beyond that, Springsteen's populist protest and anger, to me, sounds forced and at times hackneyed (reaching a summit on Wrecking Ball). Bruce's message in "The Wall" is also a protest and political ("I read Robert McNamara says he's sorry"), but the difference here is that it comes first from a personal place. It is grieving the loss of someone he admired. The McNamara line would sound shrill on its own (like a lot of Wrecking Ball to me), but the previous two lines give it the needed emotional punch: "I remember you in your Marine uniform / Laughin', laughin' at your ship out party / I read Robert McNamara says he's sorry." Man, that is great! This is the Bruce of Nebraska/Born in the U.S.A., not Working on a Dream. And then there's this:

"I'm sorry I missed you last year / I couldn't find no one to drive me / If your eyes could cut through that black stone / Tell me would they recognize me / For the living time it must be served / The day goes on, cigarettes and a bottle of beer / Skin on black stone / On the ground dog tags and wreaths of flowers / With ribbons red as the blood / Red as the blood you spilled in the Central Highlands mud / Limousines rush down Pennsylvania Avenue / Rustling the leaves as they fall / Apology and forgiveness got not place here at all / Here at the wall"

Bruce hasn't written something that good in a long, long time. If you have ever visited the the wall in D.C., it is unlike any of the other memorials or sites (rivaled perhaps only by the Lincoln Memorial in its power). Bruce captures it beautifully.

I guess what makes High Hopes so excellent is that it is not trying to be. The fact that it is a ragtag collection of tunes left off records over the last 12 years, three covers and some dramatic remakes, Bruce, for the first time in 12 years, wasn't trying to make a labored statement. He is just being Bruce, writing song by song instead of trying to write an album that says more. The songs can say enough. Bruce sounds unforced (well, "Harry's Place" sounds a little forced), loose yet focused here, perhaps spurred in part by Morello. Morello is great in places and annoying in others, but I think working with him has given Bruce a nice change. He is working with someone he sees more as an equal vs. his band, as great as the E Street band is. There are few throwaways here (I'd really just categorize "Heaven's Wall" and "This Is Your Sword" as unworthy), the rest of this is great stuff. At 64 years old, this is more than we should expect from Springsteen.

**** out of *****

Dez Reviews the Documentary ‘Big Star: Nothing Can Hurt Me’ (2012) and presents a Big Star Record Guide

I have often said that Big Star was the greatest band that you’ve never heard of. Well, they aren’t that obscure anymore, having become a cult favorite and a common name dropped by the likes of Michael Stipe, Paul Westerberg et al. In a just universe, they would have become as big as Zeppelin in the 70’s, but instead due to almost comically bad luck, record label incompetence and combustible personalities, when they actually made their amazing Anglophile power pop in the 70’s nobody other than ecstatic music critics actually heard the stuff. Formed by brilliant and eccentric Alex Chilton (just out of his child prodigy phase as teenage singer for The Box Tops), tragic and talented Chris Bell, Andy Hummel and Jody Stephens out of the strange musical cauldron of Memphis, they had all of the ingredients to be one of the biggest bands of the 1970’s. But it just never happened.

That is the central theme of Drew DeNicola and Olivia Mori’s excellent documentary ‘Big Star: Nothing Can Hurt Me.’ That is, why the hell weren’t they the big stars they were supposed to be? Why wasn’t #1 Record a #1 record? The answers are many, and covered in great detail in the film. Stax bought out Ardent Studios (Big Star’s home), but had no idea how to handle a rock band. Then Stax went bankrupt in the early 70’s, and couldn’t promote the first record. Columbia Records bought the Stax label, and then refused to distribute the second record, Radio City. They were getting rave reviews in Rolling Stone, Creem and every other music publication, yet you could not find the record in any record store. The third record was so desolate and out there that it was not even released for three years (long after the band had actually broken up). Those three records (#1 Record, Radio City and Third/Sister Lovers) make up the remarkable core of their legacy.

Throughout the film, Alex Chilton remains a fantastic mystery and Chris Bell is finally given his due as an equal partner in Big Star, at least on that first record. The roots of the band and early days are well covered, but it is the disintegration and solo directions of Chilton and Bell that actually offer the most interesting moments of the film. (If you purchase the DVD, there is over an hour of deleted scenes that are quite good and fill the story out even more).

ABOVE: I want Jody Stephens' (left) jacket

Chilton went on to turn his back on the melodic power pop revolution that he helped to inspire, and became one of the true eccentrics of music. From punk pop to experimental rockabilly/punk deconstruction to Sinatra covers, he was nothing if not unpredictable. Bell’s mental illness and tragic death in a car accident in 1977 are especially poignant in the film (with great interviews with David Bell, his brother and keeper of his legacy), including the stunning fact that a guy with that talent was working as a cook in a local restaurant at the time of his death (Alex Chilton quit music in the 80’s for a few years to be a tree trimmer in New Orleans, but that was more out of eccentricity). My only complaint regarding Bell is that they barely touch on his conflicted sexuality that was such a big part of his pain and confusion, which in turn influenced his work a great deal.

But for any Big Star fan, this film is a godsend. Fantastic footage, humorous and heartfelt interviews with the survivors (both Bell and Chilton, the key figures, are dead) and it does justice to the legacy of the greatest forgotten band. One of the most telling scenes in the film is the one regarding the early showcases where the audience is going absolutely nuts during the performances. The audience was comprised completely of music critics. No fans. They didn’t have any.

‘Big Star: Nothing Can Hurt Me’ (2012) **** out of *****

Big Star Record Guide

#1 Record (1972) *****
Many people slightly prefer the sophomore effort to the debut, but the first is still my favorite. Perhaps because this was still a joint Chilton/Bell band, and I am a huge Chris Bell fan. Shimmering, staggeringly great power pop. This record should have been huge, it is as much a bridge between the Beatles and Kinks to American power pop in the 70’s and 80’s as The Byrds were. Maybe even more so.

Radio City (1974) *****
Chris Bell had left the band due to depression, anger over the lack of success of #1 Record and confidence issues dealing with Chilton getting most of the press. His presence is still here, though (he is uncredited on some of these tracks). But you can tell that this is now an Alex Chilton enterprise. Things are a bit more chaotic, riskier. This is a rawer record than the debut, but just as great. Chilton is a master of power pop, and he lets a bit of off kilter madness into the mix as well.

NOTE: One of the best deals around is the twofer released in the late 70’s of #1 Record and Radio City. You can still buy it for the price of one cheap record. It is what introduced most people to the magic of Big Star.

Live (live) (1974/1992) **
A live radio session from ’74 while they were promoting Radio City that is pretty loose, but it does have Chilton’s brilliant cover of “Motel Blues.”

Third/Sister Lovers (1974/1978) ****
After the double failure of their first two records, Hummel also left and Chilton became pretty bitter. He was also struggling with some drug addiction. Out of the chaos comes the outstanding and disjointed third record. For all intents and purposes, this is an Alex Chilton record. None of this was suitable for radio play, and it wasn’t even released until several years after they broke up. That being said, much of it is stark and beautiful. “Holocaust,” “Nighttime” and “Kangaroo” simply must be heard. And “Thank You Friends” is a fantastic, sarcastic kiss-off to all to the nonexistent (at the time) Big Star fans.

Nobody Can Dance (compilation, live) (mid-70’s/1999) *
Is this a joke? This collection of rehearsals, outtakes and live tracks is unlistenable. Chilton at his most disdainful of his audience.

Columbia: Live at Missouri University (live) (1993) ***
After over a decade of not even being willing to discuss the topic of Big Star, Alex Chilton shocked listeners again by reforming the band. The reason was typical Chilton whimsy. Some Big Star fans at the University of Missouri asked him to reform the band and play at the university. So he did. Reuniting with Jody Stephens and adding Big Star acolytes Ken Stringfellow and Jon Auer (of The Posies), they played a joyous set. And stayed together and sporadically performed until Chilton’s death in 2010.

In Space (2005) ***
The latterday line-up released a much anticipated record in 2005. About half of it is excellent power pop. The other half sounds like Alex Chilton being very weird.

As far as compilations go, there are several out there. The box set Keep an Eye on the Sky (2009) **** is exhaustive, with some rare pre-Big Star tracks to boot. The live bonus disc is a bit disappointing, though.

Chris Bell solo

I Am the Cosmos (mid-1970’s/1992) ****
Chris Bell never released anything after Big Star in his lifetime, other than the stunning single and b-side “I Am the Cosmos" / "You and Your Sister” (both on this record). But he recorded sporadically in the mid-70’s, and these tracks were laid down in Memphis, England and France. So it would seem that this hodgepodge of tracks would not really hold together. On the contrary, it is a wonderful record and really does sound cohesive. Someone interviewed in the Big Star documentary (I forget who) said that Bell’s solo record (not released until 1992) is the actual sonic continuation of Big Star. I agree. “I Got Kinda Lost” is an infectious and loose rocker, the title track is majestic, “You and Your Sister” is likewise beautiful (and features Chilton on vocals). “Speed of Sound” is one of the most gorgeous songs I’ve ever heard.

Alex Chilton solo

You want to explore Alex Chilton’s solo work? Good luck to you. Spread over many records, EPs and one off singles, it is a maddening discography. I’ve got some of his material. Like Flies on Sherbert (1979) is either * or ***** depending on your personal philosophy regarding what music should be. Rhino’s 19 Years: A Collection of Alex Chilton (1991) *** is a fair representation of his overall solo career, but is also a mess. Like his work.

RIP Phil Everly, 1939-2014

Dez Reviews 'Johnny Carson' by Henry Bushkin, 2013

The title of Henry Bushkin's "biography" of television giant Johnny Carson is a bit of a misnomer. A more appropriate title would have been 'My Adventures With Johnny' or 'Two Decades of Hanging Out With Carson.' Not that it was a bad read. In fact, in general, it was quite good. But in many respects it is just as much about the author (Carson's lawyer, pseudo-manager, tennis partner, entourage and fixer all wrapped into one from about 1970 through the late 80's) as it is about Carson himself. But that is appropriate, because as most people know already from his reputation, Carson was one of the most unknowable and cagey personalities in the history of show business. A straight biography would never really work beyond just surface facts because Carson was impossible to know. The only real way to approach a book about the man would be like this one, describing someone else's interractions with him.

That is, of course, a supreme irony because his persona and easy manner hosting The Tonight Show from 1962 to 1992 made him a warm and witty late night companion for millions. I remember watching Carson a lot near the end of his reign on television, and no matter the stresses of the day, it was great to sit down with Johnny and unwind. But as Bushkin (and many others have as well) points out, Carson was completely at home chatting it up with celebrities separated by his desk barrier and 20 million viewers on TV, but he was ill at ease at a small dinner party.

In person, Carson was a difficult man, to say the least. Bushkin started his association with him in the early 70's, when Carson rashly decided to get rid of his representation and start over with a young, unknown, inexperienced lawyer to help him out with one of his many divorces. One of Bushkin's first encounters with Carson entailed helping to break in to Carson's second wife's apartment to gather evidence of infidelity (it turns out she was sleeping with Frank Gifford). One of the more interesting aspects of this whole book was how working for Carson, especially in the capacity that Bushkin did, was a full time committment. Bushkin blames Carson's demands that "he be top priority" for the dissolution of his own marriage. But it also brought him wealth and the usual amenities associated with hanging out with one of the most powerful men in showbiz.

Again to the unknowable Carson. Part of it was perhaps his stoic Nebraska upbringing. Some of it, according to Bushkin, was his emotionally abusive mother. But Carson was not really open to anyone. Not his four wives, not his own children, not the A-List celebrities that he seemed to be so comfortable with on his show. Bushkin describes an at times generous man, but strictly on his terms. And he hated to be "pressured," as in asked for emotional support when he just was not capable of giving it. Two stories told in the book exhibit this dichotomy. His own son descended into suicidal mental illness and was hospitalized. He asked for his dad, but Carson refused to visit him. Instead, he sent Bushkin (his lawyer) daily to visit his son and make sure he was alright (Carson weakly rationalized this by saying if he showed up, it would create a media circus). On the other side of the coin, when Carson heard that the owner of one of his favorite steakhouses was having serious tax problems with the IRS, he sent the guy a $100,000 check.

Bushkin is a bit vague on their falling out. Carson abruptly fired him over some business dealing related to Carson's production company. But perhaps that was the way it was with everyone in Carson's orbit. Easy come, easy go, and the person left behind is a bit dumbfounded. The book is good, with plenty of entertaining anecdotes (such as when Carson drunkenly lunged across the table at Tom Snyder for little other reason than Carson hated his show, or when president Reagan had to call Carson personally and apologize after Carson felt slighted for being given the standard tour of the White House vs. a private one after Carson had hosted an innaugural ball) and with some very interesting insight into the business dealings with the networks. Afterall, it was Bushkin negotiating on Carson's behalf, so he has some considerable knowledge.

Regardless of the complicated and often petulant man that Carson was, his talent remains singular. I'll leave you with an extended quote that captures how special Carson was. Bushkin is describing a dinner party at the house of Henry Mancini. Carson is supposed to be there, but he is uncharacteristically late. Bushkin is amazed at these A-list Hollywood players nervously awaiting the arrival of the King of Late Night:

"And thus I was surprised that so many of these people made it a point, when getting a drink or another canape, to detour to my side of the room and quietly ask...'so where's Johnny?'...what was fascinating was the eagerness with which they asked...none of them knew Johnny well. It struck me that most of them genuinely wanted him to come...hoping to get to know him better. You could see how Johnny's general aloofness from the Hollywood scene actually drew people to him, how his relative unavailability on the social circuit restored the mystique that his nightly presence on the tube corroded...

And that's when most of these people had met Carson, on the set of the Tonight Show, where they developed an incredible respect for what he did. Despite their enormous talents, none of these actors could do what Carson did...they played characters, inhabited invented identities, brought to life a carefully constructed script. But Johnny took the stage just as himself, reliant mostly on his own native gifts. Night after night, he performed live to tape in a medium that permitted no rewrites if a line didn't work or no do-overs if someone messed up...When guests like Stewart or Kelly or Lemmon came on the Tonight Show, they were naked - no lines, no characters, no costumes, no director - just themselves. Carson helped them by drawing out the qualities that made them seem interesting, glamourous, witty and fun...he played the straight man to their jokester, the pupil to their master, the fan to their stardom...Carson's nightly exhibitions of wit, intelligence, grace and sheer showmanship set [the] standard for entertainment.

And on that night at the Mancinis, after hearing the eagerness and even tension in the voices of Hollywood's greatest luminaries as they asked for Carson, I saw the singular respect he'd earned among his peers. He was indeed a star among stars."

ABOVE: Nobody was better

*** out of *****

Krauthammer, Christie and the Way Forward

Although it is a passion of mine and it also usually garners more response than most other category of post, I’ve avoided politics here at GNABB of late. It is not due to a lack of interest on my part. And this past year has definitely presented some important topics for discussion. Perhaps I find it easier to talk about music or Christmas television specials than to unravel the complexities of the world. Perhaps it is also that I am constantly evolving, politically, constantly considering and reconsidering my stances. My views on the greatness of Springsteen are pretty set in stone by this point, regardless of the mediocrity of his recent output. But how do I feel about possible Syrian intervention? I’m not so sure.

I think I did set out a fairly consistent political ideology in our epic discussion/debate over on ANCIANT’s site awhile back. While I do listen to talk radio rather frequently in my car on the way to and from work most days, I don’t necessarily agree with them. Michael Medved comes across as the most reasonable to me out of all of the nationally syndicated guys that I listen to. If you had to peg me somewhere, I guess you could call me Center-Right. Deep down, if they really understood their own beliefs, I think you would find that most of the tax-paying country is there too. That’s why Reagan was so popular. That also explains our success as a country.

But I am excited now because I think that I have found someone who really reflects my own beliefs and presents them in the most brilliant way that I have heard in a long time. I was listening to talk radio one afternoon last month (I don’t even remember which show), and the guest was columnist Charles Krauthammer. I listened to a rather long segment, and found myself nodding and agreeing with almost everything he said, even saying “yes!” out loud in my car to nobody in particular. This is who I have been looking for. I also was immediately drawn into the way that he made his arguments. He was promoting his new book ‘Things That Matter,’ which is a sort of Greatest Hits collection of his columns from the past 30 years or so that have appeared in Time, The Washington Post and The New Republic. Most are relatively short editorials (a couple of pages), although he also includes several longer essays adapted from lectures that he’s given over the years. Needless to say, I rushed out and grabbed a copy. What a brilliant book.

It is divided into four sections, “Personal,” “Political,” “Historical” and “Global.” The personal essays are fun and good, ranging from heartfelt obituaries, to reflections on his former career as a psychiatrist, the intricacies of chess, dog shows, astronomy and the joys of being a fan of a mediocre sports team (in his case, the Washington Nationals, in an editorial entitled “The Joy of Losing”). There was only one essay where I disagreed and felt he was off base, the one where he is a bit dismissive of the natural childbirth movement (both of my children were born naturally), and uses an extreme case to make his point. But that aside, they were all enjoyable.

The meat of his writing, though, deals with politics and history. He tackles topics such as the legacy of the French Revolution, Angry White Men, affirmative action, Newtown, immigration policy and social security reform (in “Of Course It’s a Ponzi Scheme,” where he argues for its importance, but also makes crucial suggestions to keep it solvent, saying “When FDR created Social Security, choosing 65 as the eligibility age, life expectancy was 62. Today it is almost 80. FDR wanted to prevent the aged few from suffering destitution in their last remaining years. Social Security was not meant to provide two decades of greens fees for baby boomers.”) He also tackles euthanasia, stem cell research, religion in public life, 9/11, Middle East policy and the Iraq wars (arguing convincingly in several columns that Obama has squandered a historic opportunity in Iraq with his withdrawal. Regardless of the wisdom of entering the conflict, we were in a hard fought position to really influence the Middle East for the better, but Obama lost all of that opportunity. Why did Obama let it go? A mixture of wanting to fulfill a campaign promise, an inability of the Left to make a decision that might shed some positive light on anything initiated by George W. Bush and Obama's own ideological worldview, which I will address in more detail below). All of these topics he tackles with sharp reason, compassion and rock solid logic.

There are 85 total editorials/articles in the book, so obviously I cannot discuss in depth all of them or even many of them here. But I will discuss two of them that had a particular effect on me.

Krauthammer is Jewish, and he has about six or seven essays relating to being Jewish and the state of Israel. I found these to be particularly interesting, especially the 15 page essay, “Zionism and the Fate of the Jews,” where he traces the entire history of the Jewish people, argues for why the diasporas have actually saved them historically as a people, gives grim demographic data showing why Jews are soon to be an endangered species, and makes the best argument I have ever seen for supporting and sustaining Israel against Middle Eastern aggression. It is an absolute must read.

But I guess the most prescient essay/article is the final one, appropriately entitled “Decline Is a Choice.” Here he brings together many of the points he has made over the years, both dealing with foreign policy and domestic policy, and makes a fascinating argument for how they are inextricably connected, and how what Obama has been doing both with health care and internationally makes perfect sense due to his ideology. I agree with Krauthammer that Obama has done long term damage to this country, but it is not due to him being stupid or him “hating America,” as so many ignorant Tea Partiers and loud talk show hosts argue. It is due to what Krauthammer calls Obama’s worldview of Liberal Internationalism (and he goes into much detail as to what that means), and therefore a withdrawal of American hegemony and simultaneously the building up of the welfare state are ideologically and logically (for Obama) connected. Krauthammer (and I) disagree with that ideology, and the requisite destiny that must follow from that ideology, but it has an internal logic nonetheless, and Krauthammer explains it. American decline is actually the goal, but not out of hatred of America or even being unpatriotic. It entails some arguments that I intuitively have felt for some time now but have never been able to articulate to my satisfaction (and some additional arguments that never occurred to me), but once again Krauthammer lays it out here, as well as the reasonable, conservative alternative.

What I like about Krauthammer is that he seems to be the Center-Right, “reasonable conservative” voice that I argued for so passionately in our debates on ANCIANT’s site. I knew they were out there!

His ideas and arguments offer a way forward, not the decline of Obama’s agenda and not the shrill, suicidal cliff-jumping of the Tea Party either. (I think, ironically enough, the likely candidate that would follow a Krauthammerian worldview is Chris Christie, which is why the “elephant in the room” has my early support for 2016).

It is not that some Tea Party darlings like Ted Cruz are idiots. Cruz is no Palin. Cruz graduated cum laude from Princeton, attended Harvard Law School and has argued multiple cases in front of the U.S. Supreme Court. He is a lot brighter than I am. But he is either wrong or dangerous or both. He knew that his faux filibuster and spearheading of the government shutdown would not kill Obamacare. So why did he do it? Why is Cruz dangerous? He shut down the government of the United States to position himself in the primaries for 2016. That is utterly Nixonian. Cruz is dangerous, smart and an ideologue (Nixon was also dangerous and smart, but crucially he wasn’t an ideologue, he was the ultimate American practitioner of realpolitik). Do not underestimate or sleep on Cruz. Our path to national recovery and continued international hegemony (and I do not use that word in the negative), our path in between the equally dark futures of Obama liberalism leading to European social democratic malaise and the harsh Cruz Tea Partiers (who may be correct on some of the most crucial issues, but their tactics are uncompromising and counterproductive), is the way of Krauthammer and Christie. I firmly believe that.

‘Things That Matter’ by Charles Krauthammer, 2013: ***** out of *****

Rock and Roll Hall of Fame Class of 2014

I was a bit off in my predictions this year (only got three), but the Class of 2014 is pretty solid, although it could have been better considering the nominees to choose from. Nirvana was a no brainer and everyone knew it. I’ve never been a fan, but I cannot deny their impact or credentials. It has been a given all along that they would be inducted in their first year of eligibility.

While I still question her Rockhall credentials, I have softened my stance on Linda Ronstadt somewhat. I still think that someone who makes their mark as a vocalist singing versions of other peoples’ songs is a bit suspect as far as a Hall of Fame induction goes. The Innovation is nil, she did not take these songs in wildly different directions (making her different from, say, an Ella Fitzgerald or a Janis Joplin, who also primarily sang songs written by others but they took them to entirely different places). She just had a great voice and did the songs well. The Influence may be there in some form, but she did not stand so far apart from other very talented female pop vocalists to really singlehandedly influence generations of singers. The Quality can be good (to occasionally great). Just a weak Hall case based on their criteria, even if she is a talented singer with some great songs. Alright, never mind. I have not softened my stance. She does not deserve induction.

I was surprised that Cat Stevens made it, considering the competition. But then you have to consider the genre breakdowns. He had no singer-songwriter competition in the field (Ronstadt had no genre artist to compete against either) and the Hall traditionally likes singer-songwriter types. So in hindsight, perhaps he should have been given a better chance by me and almost every other Hall watcher than he was given. There were few experts predicting his induction this time around. He’s on the border as far as worthiness, but I don’t feel too strongly about it.

Great to see Hall & Oates make it. While slight on the Innovation (and perhaps Influence), the Quality is strong and while the powers that be do not officially consider sales and chart success, that had to be a factor amongst the voters. Hall & Oates are one of the most commercially successful duos in pop music history. A great group and deserving.

At long last, one of the biggest snubs has been rectified with the induction of Peter Gabriel. In relatively short order, Gabriel went from criminally neglected to joining the rarified air of the Clyde McPhatter Club (artists with two inductions, named by Hall watchers after the first artist to accomplish it…there is only one artist with three inductions, and that is Eric Clapton). With a 2010 induction as a member of Genesis and now for his solo work, Gabriel joins that elite group of artists. Not only is he unquestionably deserving for innovative, influential and quality work, he is also a personal favorite of mine, making his induction all the better. And unlike with the Genesis induction, he claims that he will show up to the ceremony this time.

And then there is KISS. I love KISS from a deep place of childhood. Their influence on other hard rock/metal artists is well documented through testimonials and they also influenced the business of rock and roll as well. Innovation, musically speaking, not a scintilla. But again, they innovated in a business sense and as showmen. Quality of work? Well you can decide that for yourself. For many, KISS has been one of the biggest snubs (inspiring petitions, angry letters to the Hall and even a “protest march” on the Hall of Fame Museum in Cleveland by the KISS Army).

Few people felt more strongly about this than KISS themselves, not surprisingly. Simmons especially has slagged the Hall for years (last year threatening to just “buy it and fire everyone”). The tune has changed this morning, though. Paul Stanley, through Twitter and other social media, has been basking in his induction. Now, apparently, The Hall is a legitimate and respected institution. Stanley says that “they finally see things our way.” Yes, there is reality and then there is KISS-reality. In contrast, KISS champion/That Metal Show host Eddie Trunk called Peter Criss this morning to congratulate him on the momentous news, but only spoke to his wife because apparently Peter was “still asleep.” (My favorite line from a Rolling Stone interview with Gene Simmons today was when asked about less than glowing critical reviews over the years, he replied that "Jesus also had people who did not like him.")

The E Street Band was inducted as part of the Musical Excellence category, as the Hall rightly continues to try and rectify past wrongs of inducting artists without their crucial backing bands. They need to continue to do this, and I applaud them for admitting a mistake and fixing it over the years. Bob Marley’s Wailers should be next. It is a little nepotistic as Little Steven Van Zandt is on the Committee, so did he play a part in inducting himself? Deserving nonetheless, although too bad Clarence Clemons and Danny Federici are not around anymore to enjoy the honor. The band should have been inducted with Springsteen himself in 1999, not 2014.

Early Beatles manager Brian Epstein and early Rolling Stones manager Andrew Loog Oldham were inducted in the Non-Performer category. Solid picks. This category needs to be used more, as there are many individuals who were not musicians but that were nevertheless crucial to rock and roll’s history and development. Dick Clark and Alan Freed are in (I believe), but there are a host of other crucial DJs who deserve induction in this category. Wolfman Jack, anyone?

As for those left on the outside, I think it ridiculous that Yes is still not inducted. Whether you like their brand of pompous progressive rock or not (and I most definitely do), they may be the most important band in that entire genre. That very fact should make them a shoe-in. It was ridiculous that this was the first year they were nominated, and it is ridiculous that they were not inducted this time around. I have grown to appreciate Link Wray immensely during the past few months, and am now disappointed he did not make it in. That is eight strike-outs for Chic. I think they are deserving, but the voters have spoken. Eight times. Let’s give them a rest for awhile (although it took Black Sabbath an absurd eight times before they got inducted, and then without inducting Ronnie James Dio to boot).

Should be a fun ceremony to watch this year, with several potential dramas. Dave Grohl and Courtney Love do not like each other. How will the Nirvana induction go down? Who will perform with the living members of Nirvana? Are Peter Criss and Ace Frehley going to watch Gene Simmons and Paul Stanley perform with their hired guns in the Catman and Space Ace make-up? Or can they bury the hatchet for one night and have the four original members of KISS up there once again? If all four are accepting the award, how awkward will that be at the podium? Can’t wait to hear Gene Simmons tell us why KISS is the most important thing to have occurred in all of American history.

The Kings of Jingaling

One of the joys of fatherhood is that I get to revisit the pop culture of my own childhood in my attempt to brainwash my children into liking the things that I used to like. This has been a fun holiday season so far because it is the first Christmas where my oldest daughter really has a grasp of what is going on. She has been incredibly excited about all things related to Christmas (well, at least the secular commercial version). We put up the tree and decorated it over the weekend, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen her have more fun. Granted, about 80% of the ornaments are in a small quadrant near the bottom of the tree, but she was having so much fun decorating that I just kept them there.

I have been introducing her to the classic Christmas TV specials of yore. In my mind there are six essential ones: ‘The Grinch Who Stole Christmas,’ ‘A Charlie Brown Christmas’ and the four canonical shows from Hankin/Bass: ‘Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer,’ ‘Frosty the Snowman,’ ‘Santa Clause is Comin’ To Town’ and ‘The Year Without Santa.’ Now, having viewed them all in recent weeks (and some of them over and over and over again), some thoughts (and of course, judgments)…

‘Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer’:

This is clearly the king of them all. It has everything magical about nostalgia and the holidays. The primitive stop motion technology merely adds to the charms. My daughter is obsessed with all things Rudolph, and I’ve got to say that I enjoy watching this with her every time, even if it is the 86th run through it. Part of its charm, for me, is the anachronistic attitudes and the 'Mad Men' world in which it was made (1964). Check this scene out: when Rudolph runs away, and his father Donner decides to go look for him and Rudy’s mother wants to come too, Donner says sternly “no, this is man’s work.” Another nugget, after fighting off the abominable snow monster, Yukon Cornelius has supposedly gone over the cliff with the monster, thereby saving Rudolph and his family and friends, the narrator (Burl Ives as Sam the Snowman) says that although they wanted to stay and see if they could find Yukon, they “knew they needed to get the women back home.”

And Santa is a real jerk. He comes to visit Donner and wife to meet the new baby, and once Rudolph’s nose glows Santa recoils ("Great bouncing icebergs!") and tells Donner that he needs to take care of the situation asap. Then he turns around and sings a happy song about Christmas to Rudolph. Later, when Rudolph’s fake nose pops off during the reindeer games, Santa scolds Donner “you should be ashamed of yourself.” When the elves sing their song for Santa (“We Are Santa’s Elves”), he looks visibly irritated and bored, slumping in his chair, sighing and covering his eyes, and says “oh well, it needs work” and then storms off. The song was delightful, what the f**k, Santa?

ABOVE: Wonder what happened to the stop motion puppets used in the show? Sure you do. Apparently Rankin/Bass had no idea how popular 'Rudolph' and their other shows would be, and so when production was over they gave the puppets away to employees, secretaries, etc. Apparently one lady got Rudolph, Santa and others and gave them to her nephew as toys. Some of the puppets "melted in the attic," but as you can see above the nephew brought Rudolph and Santa to be appraised on 'Antiques Roadshow.' They were estimated to be worth about $10,000 at auction. Which I think is actually a little low, considering the pop culture value, and the Christmas collectors market is pretty big. But they are damaged (Rudolph doesn't have his nose and Santa is missing half of his mustache.)

My favorite character, by far, is Boss Elf. He’s the elf overseeing the toymaking process who is always shouting orders and who gets all over Hermey the Elf for wanting to be a dentist instead of making toys. “Now you get to elf practice and learn to wiggle your ears, chuckle warmly, say ‘hee hee’ and ‘ho ho’ and important things like that!!” I shout that at my daughter at least once a day now and she enjoys it.

ABOVE: Boss Elf scolds Hermey

All of that aside, it really is the gold standard. With timeless songs, a classic story of misfits who join together and end up saving the day because of their oddities…it doesn’t get any better. The primitive stop motion techniques are strangely effective and evoke a warm nostalgia for simpler times and simple messages that are incredibly powerful (mid-60's gender role attitudes aside). And such a cultural touchstone too. I was reading the Lou Reed remembrances in Rolling Stone, and Michael Stipe references the “Island of Misfit Toys” (with no explanation). Most people of my age, I think, would instantly know what he was talking about and what he meant to say regarding Lou Reed’s appeal to outsiders.

***** out of *****

‘A Charlie Brown Christmas’

Confession: I’ve never been a huge fan of the Peanuts gang. I have never (and still don’t) get why everyone picks on Chuck. He seems a nice enough guy and tries to do the right thing, yet everyone thinks he is an incompetent idiot. I don’t get it. Even their beloved holiday specials are overrated. The Thanksgiving one is just OK, and the Halloween ‘Great Pumpkin’ sucks. That being said, the Christmas special has a real magic that is lacking in every other Peanuts special. It has a languid but pleasant pace that just couldn't be pulled off today, accentuated by the absolutely wonderful jazz score from Vince Guaraldi. The story is simple, with the only things at stake a Christmas pageant and a rather pathetic tree. But the message tries to cut through the commercialism of the holiday and find real meaning. It does so effectively.

**** out of *****

ABOVE: Boris Karloff and The Grinch

‘How the Grinch Stole Christmas’

The original animated show is absolute perfection. It is Dr. Seuss at his most witty, and to have the voice of Boris Karloff as both narrator and The Grinch was a masterstroke. Other than as the iconic Frankenstein monster, it is Karloff's most lasting work. The prose is great (since it is Seuss) and the story is a wonderful lesson about what Christmas should be about. Although even my daughter has picked up on the fact that The Grinch violates multiple animal cruelty laws in his treatment of his poor dog, Max.

ABOVE: Look closely at the still from 'The Grinch.' A little dog should not have to carry a sleigh of that weight. Uphill. In the snow.

***** out of *****

‘Frosty the Snowman’

This took a few modern viewings to click with me again, but it really is fantastic. One of the things I enjoy is that many of the voices sound like Sopranos actors. Jimmy Durante narrates, and his voice is so warm yet rough that it sounds like he is telling the story of Frosty while you are seated next to him in some mob-run bar in Jersey over some bourbons and cigars. But the story is great, the message good, and Santa is actually quite kind in this one, and disarms the villain by threatening not to ever bring him any presents ever again.

***** out of *****

ABOVE: A young Santa

‘Santa Claus is Comin’ To Town’

Like all modern comic book heroes who get the big screen treatment, Santa Claus needs an origin story. This is it. Narrated with class by Fred Astaire (with Santa voiced by Mickey Rooney), it actually presents an interesting story of Santa’s roots. But the pace is a bit slow and the music forgettable. It did not hold my daughter’s interest, nor mine.

*** out of *****

‘The Year Without Santa’

Mickey Rooney is back as Santa, and in this one the Red One has a cold and decides that since nobody remembers the real meaning of Christmas anyway, he’s done. It is up to Mrs. Claus to save Christmas, sending two bumbling elves and a reindeer down to find traces of Christmas spirit. The music sucks, and the story is slow. The only cool thing is the Miser brothers, Snow Miser and Heat Miser, who are competing with each other for global weather dominance. In doing some research, I found that the Misers have become minor cult figures. Needs much more Misers, less everything else.

ABOVE: Considering global warming (or 'climate change'), it appears that Heat Miser has gained the upper hand

** out of *****

Did I miss any crucial holiday shows?