Portrait Series: Suzanne Farrell

Ballerina Suzanne Farrell sought dance as a sanctuary, whether she was happy or sad.  As artists like her advance in age, retirement is of course inevitable.  But life gives all of them an opportunity to do something else related to their art, particularly teaching and developing their younger brethren.  So Farrell does, and even at this point in her life she cannot listen to music without dancing.  I love it.

Portrait Series: Christoph Eschenbach

His mother died at children, and within five years of his life, his father was killed in World War II.  Certainly not the easiest of starts for any child, but it must've been fate for Christoph Eschenbach to end up in the care of his mother's cousin, who was a talented musician and teacher.  Unlike some maestros apparently, he also knew how to play music, which gave him fine empathy for what orchestral members have to perform.  It is lovely to hear that as he advanced in his chosen career, he took care to mentor younger musicians and to lend a passionate, guiding spirit when he conducts.

Portrait Series: Steven Reineke

Life without music would be a mistake.  I can't imagine a world without music. 

To hear conductor and composer Steven Reineke speak is to know what musical talent and passion mean.  To hear him speak is evocative indeed.  In his younger days he clearly had a knack for picking up the soundtrack of a film and replaying it on his piano, which, mind you, he taught himself how to play.  It is altogether delightful to see someone who loves his work so much. 

Story behind Sgt. Pepper's, by the Beatles

It was twenty years ago today
Sgt. Pepper taught the band to play
They've been going in and out of style
But they're guaranteed to raise a smile

So may I introduce to you
The act you've known for all these years
Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band

We're Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band
We hope you will enjoy the show
Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band
Sit back and let the evening go
Sgt. Pepper's lonely, Sgt. Pepper's lonely
Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band

It's wonderful to be here
It's certainly a thrill
You're such a lovely audience
We'd like to take you home with us
We'd love to take you home

I don't really want to stop the show
But I thought that you might like to know
That the singer's going to sing a song
And he wants you all to sing along

So let me introduce to you the one and only Billy Shears
And Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band

Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band, by the Beatles.

What would you think if I sang out of tune
Would you stand up and walk out on me?
Lend me your ears and I'll sing you a song
And I'll try not to sing out of key

Oh, I get by with a little help from my friends
Mmm, I get high with a little help from my friends
Mmm, gonna try with a little help from my friends

What do I do when my love is away
Does it worry you to be alone?
How do I feel by the end of the day
Are you sad because you're on your own?

No, I get by with a little help from my friends
Mmm, get high with a little help from my friends
Mmm, gonna try with a little help from my friends

Do you need anybody?
I need somebody to love
Could it be anybody?
I want somebody to love

Would you believe in a love at first sight?
Yes, I'm certain that it happens all the time
What do you see when you turn out the light?
I can't tell you but I know it's mine

Oh, I get by with a little help from my friends
Mmm, I get high with a little help from my friends
Oh, I'm gonna try with a little help from my friends

Do you need anybody?
I just need someone to love

Could it be anybody?
I want somebody to love

Oh, I get by with a little help from my friends
Mmm, gonna try with a little help from my friends
Oh, I get by with a little help from my friends
Yes, I get high with a little help from my friends
With a little help from my friends

With a Little Help from my Friends, by the Beatles.

In the years of my childhood, before we left the Philippines for the US in 1968, I had a vague memory of a Beatles scandal in our country.  I remembered my aunts, in particular, referring to them in sharp tones and angry scowls.  So apparently that's how it came to be for the Fab Four: As their popularity skyrocketed and peaked, they found themselves increasingly in controversy and it became too wearisome.  But as in keeping with their matchless musical genius, they came up with the concept of Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band, as a creative proxy for them.  The fact that it was lonely hearts must've spoken to the emotional toll and isolation that fame brought.  Nevertheless, this proxy allowed them to keep experimenting with their music, while avoiding what had come to be dreadful tours.

In November 1966, during a return flight to London from Kenya, where he had been on holiday with Beatles' tour manager Mal Evans, [Paul] McCartney had an idea for a song that eventually formed the impetus of the Sgt. Pepper concept.  His idea involved an Edwardian-era military band that Evans invented a name for in the style of contemporary San Francisco-based groups such as Big Brother and the Holding Company and Quicksilver Messenger Service. In February 1967 McCartney suggested that the Beatles should record an entire album that would represent a performance by the fictional band.  This alter ego group would give them the freedom to experiment musically. He explained: "I thought, let's not be ourselves. Let's develop alter egos."  [Producer George] Martin remembered:

"Sergeant Pepper" itself didn't appear until halfway through making the album. It was Paul's song, just an ordinary rock number ... but when we had finished it, Paul said, "Why don't we make the album as though the Pepper band really existed, as though Sergeant Pepper was making the record? We'll dub in effects and things." I loved the idea, and from that moment on it was as though Pepper had a life of its own.

Reference: Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band.

With a Little Help from my Friends accompanied Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band so often, that I thought it was all one song.  I was a thoughtful young man, and began to command and love English in my early teenage years, especially as I dabbled in poetry.  On this note, I saw that if we were to alter this song title by just one letter, that is, With Little Help from my Friends, the meaning would change radically.

Story behind 25 or 6 to 4, by Chicago

Waiting for the break of day
Searching for something to say
Flashing lights against the sky
Giving up I close my eyes
Sitting cross-legged on the floor
Twenty-five or six to four

Staring blindly into space
Getting up to splash my face
Wanting just to stay awake
Wondering how much I can take
Should I try to do some more
Twenty-five or six to four

Feeling like I ought to sleep
Spinning room is sinking deep
Searching for something to say
Waiting for the break of day

Twenty-five or six to four
Twenty-five or six to four

25 or 6 to 4, by Chicago.

As with Smoke on the Water, by Deep Purple, I love the rock defining guitar pieces in this Chicago classic.  Chicago is one of my longtime favorite bands anyway, stretching back to their first official album when their band was initially called Chicago Transit Authority (1969).  I could name all seven of their inaugural band members.  Besides the guitar, it was the brass section that drew me in.  Theirs wasn't classic rock in the sense of ear shattering, heavy metal, but of orchestral sounds unique in rock music.  Then, too, there is the curious story behind the song.  For the longest time, I didn't know what the title meant, and the lyrics did seem as if songwriter Robert Lamm was tripping.

Lamm says it's simpler than that. "The song is about writing a song. It's not mystical," he says. Take a look at some of the lyrics:

Waiting for the break of day - He's been up all night and now it's getting close to sunrise.
Searching for something to say - Trying to think of song lyrics.
Flashing lights against the sky - Perhaps stars or the traditional flashing neon hotel sign.
Giving up I close my eyes - He's exhausted and his eyes hurt from being open too long, so he closes them.
Staring blindly into space - This expression can be seen often on the faces of writers and reporters. Trust me.
Getting up to splash my face - Something you do when you're trying to stay awake, though a good cup of Starbuck's does wonders.
Wanting just to stay awake, wondering how much I can take - How far can he push himself to get the song done?
Should I try to do some more? - This is the line that makes many think it's a drug song. But it is just as easily construed as a frustrated writer wondering if he should try to do some more lyrics/songwriting.

As for the curious title, Lamm says, "It's just a reference to the time of day" - as in "waiting for the break of day" at 25 or (2)6 minutes to 4 a.m. (3:35 or 3:34 a.m.)

I think we can take Lamm's word for the whole thing. Because, when it's that early in the morning, does anybody really know what time it is?

Reference: What does the Chicago lyric "25 or 6 to 4" mean?

Nice little allusion there at the end.

Story behind Smoke on the Water, by Deep Purple

We all came out to Montreux
On the Lake Geneva shoreline
To make records with a mobile
We didn't have much time
Frank Zappa and the Mothers
Were at the best place around
But some stupid with a flare gun
Burned the place to the ground
Smoke on the water, fire in the sky

They burned down the gambling house
It died with an awful sound
Funky Claude was running in and out
Pulling kids out the ground
When it all was over
We had to find another place
But Swiss time was running out
It seemed that we would lose the race
Smoke on the water, fire in the sky

We ended up at the grand hotel
It was empty cold and bare
But with the Rolling Stones truck thing just outside
Making our music there
With a few red lights and a few old beds
We make a place to sweat
No matter what we get out of this
I know we'll never forget
Smoke on the water, fire in the sky

Smoke on the Water, by Deep Purple

Released in May 1973, Smoke on the Water is a standout rock classic and a longtime favorite of mine.  The music and the musicians alone can make a song fly, especially the superb guitar solo by Ritchie Blackmore.  But when the lyrics tell a compelling story and do so with fine poetry, then, to me, the song soars.  The band relates this story in the music video above, but here it is in more detail:

The lyrics of the song tell a true story: on 4 December 1971 Deep Purple were in Montreux, Switzerland, where they had set up camp to record an album using a mobile recording studio (rented from the Rolling Stones and known as the Rolling Stones Mobile Studio—referred to as the "Rolling Stones truck thing" and "a mobile" in the song lyrics) at the entertainment complex that was part of the Montreux Casino (referred to as "the gambling house" in the song lyric). On the eve of the recording session a Frank Zappa and The Mothers of Invention concert was held in the casino's theatre. In the middle of Don Preston's synthesizer solo on "King Kong", the place suddenly caught fire when somebody in the audience fired a flare gun into the rattan covered ceiling, as mentioned in the "some stupid with a flare gun" line. The resulting fire destroyed the entire casino complex, along with all the Mothers' equipment. The "smoke on the water" that became the title of the song (credited to bass guitarist Roger Glover, who related how the title occurred to him when he suddenly woke from a dream a few days later) referred to the smoke from the fire spreading over Lake Geneva from the burning casino as the members of Deep Purple watched the fire from their hotel. The "Funky Claude" running in and out is referring to Claude Nobs, the director of the Montreux Jazz Festival who helped some of the audience escape the fire.

Left with an expensive mobile recording unit and no place to record, the band was forced to scout the town for another place to set up. One promising venue (found by Nobs) was a local theatre called The Pavilion, but soon after the band had loaded in and started working/recording, the nearby neighbours took offence at the noise, and the band was only able to lay down backing tracks for one song (based on Blackmore's riff and temporarily named "Title n°1"), before the local police shut them down.

Finally, after about a week of searching, the band rented the nearly-empty Montreux Grand Hotel and converted its hallways and stairwells into a makeshift recording studio, where they laid down most of the tracks for what would become their most commercially successful album, Machine Head (which is dedicated to Claude Nobs).

The only song from Machine Head not recorded entirely in the Grand Hotel was "Smoke on the Water" itself, which had been partly recorded during the abortive Pavilion session. The lyrics of "Smoke on the Water" were composed later, and the vocals were recorded in the Grand Hotel.

Reference: Smoke on the Water.