May 20 - Stargazer

Technically some can argue this song is a repost, as I did post this one back in the infancy of the blog - but this is the first time I am posting it for the song a day project - and it needs to be included. After Ritchie Blackmore teamed up with Ronnie James Dio - and after they got rid of the last of Dio's bandmates from Elf - Rainbow recorded the album Rising. As far as 70s hard rock goes, it's hard to find anything better - and the song of the day has been a favorite of mine ever since I purchased Rainbow Rising in the bargain cassette bin at a record store around age 12 or so. I think I paid 25 kroner for it, and I also think I wore that tape out. But the song that became the song was one of the longest of the album.

Rainbow Rising was released 40 years ago, and it really should be celebrated. A deluxe edition was released in 2011, but with two additional mixes, which really isn't that interesting to me. There are also live recordings from the ensuing tour, and some of them are phenomenal. On Rising, Blackmore and Dio had Jimmy Bain on bass (he would go on to play with Dio back and forth throughout his career), Cozy Powell on drums (a legend of 70s, 80s, and 90s hard rock until his untimely death in 1998), and Tony Carey on keyboards. The band was spectacular, and Rainbow Rising is the perfect song not just because it captures the essence of Rainbow Rising, but really the essence of all 70 hard rock. If I could pick just one song that would represent a decade, I would pick this for the 70s.

January 26 - Holy Diver

So Sunday, Jimmy Bain died. He was 68. Now, I am thinking that some of you might never have heard his name before, but he was a very influential bass player, who stood by Ronnie James Dio's side on some of the most significant moments of Dio's career.

When Ritchie Blackmore walked out on Deep Purple in 1975, he initially teamed up with Ronnie James Dio and the majority of Elf, which was the band Dio was fronting. Elf had been produced by Roger Glover and Ian Pace of Deep Purple, and Blackmore had ample time to get to know them as they were a support act for Deep Purple. After recording their first album, Ritchie Blakemore's Rainbow, Blackmore fired everyone except for Dio, and started recruiting new members: Tony Carey on keyboards, Cozy Powell on drums, and our man of the day, Jimmy Bain on bass. This lineup only lasted for one studio album, but what an album it was! Rainbow Rising is one of the best hard rock albums ever released, with long and intricate songs, great musicianship throughout, and Dio's voice soaring. I am even willing to forgive the lyrics because of the greatness of the music.

In 1982, Dio had spent a couple of years in Black Sabbath, but as they were mixing Live Evil, tensions mounted and he decided to leave, taking drummer Vinnie Appice with him. Vivian Campbell took on guitar duties, and when it came to finding a bass player, Jimmy Bain was the one he turned to, and this is also when I started discovering Dio.

I believe it was in 1984 that my school marching band, Strindheim Skoles Musikkorps, went on a band trip to Stavern, a small town in the southern part of Norway. As usual we stayed at a school, which I remember as a having white stucco-like exterior. One of the sax players, Bård Olsen, was also developing into a great guitar player, and he brought his guitar, which I believe was bright green, and a practice amp, and he and another of the older kids in the band (in Norway, the marching bands are often tied to the elementary schools and completely extracurricular and volunteer run) were playing and singing. At one point, Bård was playing this incredibly catchy riff, clearly in a minor key, but more menacing than sad (I wasn't aware of key signatures at that point - that awareness has come later), and the singer belted out lyrics that stuck with me from that very day: "Holy diver, you've been down too long in that midnight sea..."

A little later I picked up the album because that song kept on playing over and over in my mind. Dio's début album was called Holy Diver and had hit the record stores in 1983 - but by the time I had picked it up, it was available in the bargain basement of Playtime for NOK 49.50. I know this price by heart, because a majority of my records were purchased at that price. That's also when I started reading record covers - and thus I found Jimmy Bain.

So today I am saddened by the loss of a great bass player. According to his Wikipedia entry, he co-wrote the title track, Holy Diver, although in the credits, only Ronnie James Dio is listed. Since this is the song that introduced me to both Dio and Jimmy Bain, I leave you with Holy Diver.

Intermission

Yup. I know I want to write more about my radio days - and it is coming regardless of whether you want it or not. However, Ronnie James Dio recently passed away, and I thought it necessary to spend a couple of minutes with this little giant. He was always the size of an Elf, which also happened to be the name of one of his first bands, but he packed a giant voice in that little body of his.

I first encountered Dio very indirectly. It was on a band trip to Stavern, in the southern part of Norway. We stayed at a school, sleeping on the floor in a class room. I believe the school was white, and against this white backdrop, a long-haired guitar player who I believe played the saxophone and a short-haired (read buzz cut) singer (also a sax player, I believe - although I am a little more fuzzy about that) ended up looking like silhouettes. The guitar player was playing a riff that was as powerful as it was simple, and the singer belted out lines that have been with me ever since: "Holy diver, you've been down too long in the midnight sea..."

I was hooked. Instantly. I didn't buy the album right away - as this would have been around the time it was released, but I ended up buying the record in the basement of Playtime, which also set the stage for my second chance encounter with Dio. I wrote about both Playtime and this chance encounter with Dio in an earlier entry. Later I discovered that Dio not only had played with Ritchie Blackmore (in Rainbow), but that he also sang for Black Sabbath on two studio albums and one live album, making him one of three singers who spent time with both Ritchie Blackmore and Tony Iommi, two of hard rock/heavy metal's early guitarists who developed and set the standard for what heavy metal guitars should be all about. The other two are Ian Gillan and Glen Hughes, who both spent time in Deep Purple and Black Sabbath. Dio immediately made his mark on Black Sabbath as well, as is evidenced by the song Heaven and Hell from 1980:

When Ronnie James Dio died after a fight with stomach cancer on May 16, he finally lost the fight against the dragon. This image has been recurring in many of his songs and albums - heavily inspired by fantasy and wizardry long before Harry Potter made it fashionable. I remember trying to decode the lyrics to The Last in Line, and I could not understand what he meant by "we're off to the witch, we may never, never, never come home but the magic that we'll feel is worth a lifetime." 25 years later and far more proficient in English, it makes more sense, although I sometimes do believe he lost meaning in the imagery in his songs.

I never met him. I never even saw him in real life. But I still feel his loss. A great voice is silenced, but his music will live on.

Radio Days vol. 1

I miss radio. After discovering NPR, I can say that I don't miss the listening part, as I do my fair share every day: Michigan Radio is my travel companion for both my morning and afternoon commute. But I miss being a part of a team creating the broadcasts. I think I spent about 8 years working with weekly broadcasts (sometimes more often). Most of it as the host/DJ of various music shows, predominantly focusing on the heavier sides of rock; however, I also spent quite some time as an engineer, making sure the programs sounded the way they should - and I enjoyed that as much as anything.

My radio career (as much as you can call volunteering a career) began the summer of 1985 through a series of rather unbelievable coincidences. I was 13 years old, and one day I found myself home alone (I believe my parents and sister had left to visit my grandmother). Being home alone and bored, I picked up the phone and called a party line, which was pretty new at this point - and, I believe it still was free. After the normal series of hellos, I ended up talking to two girls (which, of course was what I wanted to do anyway). We hit it off fairly well, and I ended up agreeing to travel across town to hang out for a while. I met up with them, and we ended up just talking, sitting down at some benches in their neighborhood. I did not know the first part of the unbelievable coincidences at the time, but one of the girls I was talking to was the daughter of my best friend Arve's mother's partner. In other words, she was his step-sister, but since she lived with her mother, I had never met her, nor did I know she existed.

Anyway, we were sitting outside, just hanging out and talking as a couple of guys walk by. They knew the girls and started talking to us. One of them, Chip Peters was his name (by no means a Norwegian name - but then again, he had at least one parent who was either English or American), noticed the patches and buttons on my jeans and jean jacket (at least a Dio patch, probably a Rainbow patch, and a couple of Kiss buttons - it was my standard fare at that time) and decided he would quiz me about music. I was able to answer all of his questions but one (what motorcycle does Rob Halford of Judas Priest ride on stage?), which must have impressed him. He told me that he had just started working for Radio Ung (ung=young), which was one of many brand new radio station in Trondheim that had started up as a result of an opening of airwaves to other actors than the nationally owned NRK, and then he proceeded to ask me if I wanted to start working there as well - because they had a rock show that I might be able to work for. I said, "sure," and we agreed to meet later that week so that I could meet the managing editor to see if this actually could happen.

I still remember my first meeting. Once again I took the bus to the other side of town, and I met Chip as planned. When we walked over to the studio, I was very surprised to see that it was in the basement of a large apartment building, which again was a part of a complex of apartment buildings - similar, yet more upscale, to the American projects. Studio 45 was located in Øvre Flatåsvei 45, it was owned by Trondheim Kommune (municipality). In the daytime, they ran job training/sysselsetting (essentially giving the unemployed something to do) programs, but in the late afternoon and evening, the two radio studios that made up Lydverkstedet (the sound workshop) were used by volunteer organizations who started their own radio stations - and that is where Radio Ung fit into the patchwork of activities taking place in a very small space.

So I enter the studio. Immediately to my left, there is a large office with windows all around it, which is the only way natural light enters the premises. To my right, we have Lille Studio (the little studio), lockers, then Store Studio (the big studio). Finally, behind the office on the left hand side, there is a common area, and that is where Jørund Hølaas, managing editor, meets and greets me. Whether he actually sized me up or not, I am not sure, but I remember it as him taking a close look at me, then asking me a couple of questions before saying, "OK, come in the studio with me, we have to run an outro right away." I started trembling. I was only expecting to find out whether or not I would be starting - not to actually get on the air. But I did it. I joined him in the studio - I said my one line (which I wish I could remember) as a part of the closing of the broadcast of the program "Give Peace a Chance," and then it was all over. The show was done, and my first time in front of a microphone was over with. It happened so fast that I didn't get the chance to get really nervous. I was then told that I should come to the studio again that Friday to meet the host of Flazz, which was the hard rock show I was going to join. But for now, here is John Lennon singing the song that named the radio program I first was associated with: Give Peace a Chance.

Also - since it still grinds me that I got this question wrong, here is Rob Halford entering the stage on his motorcycle. The song is Hell Bent for Leather:

And, finally, since a Dio patch probably was to blame for my radio entrance, and since he, according to everything I have ever read, is the nicest guy in metal (and please don't argue about him being metal or not), here is Dio with Egypt (The Chains Ar On), which is one of my personal favorite Dio tracks...

Record Store Day Part I - Playtime

April 17 is Record Store Day, so I thought to myself, what better excuse to talk a little about the record stores that have played such a huge part of my formative years...

Playtime
The first record store I ever visited was Playtime. It was in an old wooden building downtown Trondheim that now houses the pub Three Lions. It pains me to see this former temple of vinyl turned into a house of worship for the anglofiles, but there really hasn't been a decent store there since they closed their doors in the late 80s or thereabout. When you entered the store, they had bins upon bins of vinyl - and they had the mandatory tape racks as well. This was where they kept all the new stuff - the things they still could charge full price for. When I started shopping there, I think the price was around NOK 70 per record or tape, but before too long, the price was around NOK 100, which is the price I remember paying most of the time - as long as the music was new.

While the main floor was nice and had all the important new releases - especially from the hair bands of the 80s, the basement was the holy grail. Nice Price albums were the main feature of the basement - they were older releases not selling that well anymore and discounted to NOK 49.50. Some were of more foreign origin. I still remember Mexican pressings of Kiss' Love Gun and Rock and Roll Over - and the Black Sabbath box set Hand of Doom, which I also believe could have been of Mexican origin, featuring the first four Black Sabbath albums on flimsy vinyl and without any of the original artwork.

Playtime was also where I purchased most of the presents I ever gave to people. My good friend Arve received many an old ZZ Top tape purchased in this basement - often even cheaper than the NOK 49.50. I think I got him most of the pre-Eliminator releases - and then I made good use of them myself. Copying records and albums to tapes was a very common occurrence, and I think my parents' basement still holds a huge box of tapes I made throughout my adolescence.

I also discovered new music there. I kinda liked what Phil Lynnott had done with Gary Moore (Out in the Fields was a huge hit for the two of them), so I thought I should pick up a Thin Lizzy album. I ended up with Live Life from 1983, which I thoroughly enjoyed, although it was not being recognized as one of their best. I also picked up a cassette once that set my tastes off towards the more progressive music. I had friends who really liked Deep Purple, and it was in the Playtime basement I realized that Ritchie Blackmore had formed another band after leaving Deep Purple: Rainbow. I ended up buying a tape that had a cool cover - the image of a hand coming from a stormy sea and grasping a rainbow. It was called Rainbow Rising. I did not know that the singer was the Holy Diver himself, Mr. Ronnie James Dio, so I was very surprised when I read the cover to find out who played in the band. While I liked the entire tape, the goosebumps appeared when I heard the final track: Stargazer. It still gives me the chills. And for that - and as a tribute to Playtime, which truly was the treasure chest of my youth - here is the original version as recorded by Rainbow in 1976 - and as a nice bonus, a version by Dream Theater from 2009 - eerily close to the original.

Dream Theater - from Black Clouds and Silver Linings: