Death Bands

The recent passing of Ginger Baker, the brilliant drummer for Cream and Blind Faith, made me think that, if there’s a rock ‘n roll afterlife, somebody’s band just had a great addition to its rhythm section.  And that thought, in turn, made me think:  okay, this is morbid and probably insensitive to boot, but if you were to assemble a dream band out of dead rockers, who would be the members?

depositphotos_5334627-stock-photo-rock-n-roll-is-deadThis isn’t a novel concept.  Back in the ’70s the Righteous Brothers recorded a song about dead musicians called Rock and Roll Heaven that had artists like Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin, Bobby Darin, and Jim Croce putting on a big show in the Great Beyond.  (And now that I’ve mentioned the song, those of us old enough to remember it will have a hard time getting it out of our heads.)  But there’s a big difference between putting on a single show featuring disparate artists and assembling a functioning band.  You’ve got to factor in styles, for example.  How would Jim Morrison mesh with, say, Kurt Cobain?

I think I’d go with John Lennon, George Harrison, and Chuck Berry on guitars, with Ginger Baker on drums and John Entwistle of the Who on bass, for a band that could really play some classic, old school early rock ‘n roll.  But you also have to wonder about what kind of interesting music could be produced if you put together combinations like Hendrix, Morrison, and Keith Moon of the Who, or Elvis Presley, Cobain, Glenn Frey, John Bonham, and Clarence Clemons, or Prince, Leon Russell, and David Bowie.  With more and more old rockers passing on with each new year, unfortunately, there’s a lot of choices.

Orange Bicycle

IMG_0796Yesterday Kasey and I were out for a walk when we encountered an orange bicycle chained to a traffic sign.  And when I say “orange,” I mean this bike was totally orange, from the seat to the frame to the tires to the brake lines, chain, spokes and pedals.  The only non-orange item was the black foam handlebar grips.

What’s the significance of a completely orange bicycle chained to a traffic sign?  These days, who knows?  It could be that the bike’s owner and rider just really likes orange — or maybe it’s some kind of weird advertising campaign for a new start-up tech company called Orange Bicycle.  Or maybe Orange Bicycle is the name for a rock band or a new beer; nowadays new high-tech companies, rock bands, and beer brands seem to draw from the same reservoir of abstract and improbable names.

Now that I think of it, Orange Bicycle would be a pretty good name for a rock band.