Revisiting the Yardbirds

My first encounter with the Yardbirds occurred at age 14 when, as a morose, emaciated Catholic school boy, I took the time to watch the movie I had videotaped the night before. The movie in question was Blow Up (1966). Blow Up, a day-in-the-life drama concerning a possible murder witnessed by a  mod photographer in swinging London, was to have a deep impact upon me. Understandably envious of the photographer's world, which included a Bentley, romps with Jane Birkin, Vanessa Redgrave, Veruschka, and Sarah Miles, I turned time and time again to Antonioni's first English-language film as an escape from Xaverian High School, foul-tempered priests, freshman algebra, datelessness and general melancholia.

What struck me more than the comparative glamour of the photographer's existence was the presence in the film of a group that gave birth to 70s' metal juggernaut Led Zeppelin. This, of course, was the Yardbirds, a musical group far too neglected even by the most astute of today's popular musicologists. Certainly the Yardbirds have not been relegated to obscurity, but they are far less played by classic rock stations than their English peers such as the Kinks, the Who, the Rolling Stones or many others of the British invasion bands of that era.

This is a misfortune. Young people would benefit from further exposure to the band that helped bring to the forefront Eric Clapton, Jeff Beck and Jimmy Page. The amalgam of American blues, soul, rock and roll and psychedelia coalesced to form an enduring body of work. It is my pleasure to share with you what I hope may pique your interest in this criminally neglected parent of so many bands:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_zeza1xeWKM (the scene from Blow Up where the Yardbirds perform "Stroll on")
 http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pn6cxaKRwtk&feature=related ("For your Love")

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HTO7WVxjz3A ("Shape of Things")

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f9mQkFpkShg&feature=related ("Heart full of Soul")

P.S. Michelangelo Antonioni and the Yardbirds were unlikely role models for a fourteen-year-old boy coming of age during the George H.W. Bush administration, but they are remembered fondly by the now thirty-seven-year-old author of this piece.

The not-so-obscure connection between Ricky Nelson and Ludacris

             Ricky Nelson died at the age of 45 in a plane crash the year I turned eleven. I cannot say that I was familiar with Ricky Nelson at that age, for "Ozzie and Harriet" did not run in syndication on our local channels, unlike "I Love Lucy," and "The Honeymooners." I had heard Nelson's name mentioned more than once by my father, who bore a physical resemblance to Mr. Nelson and was born three years after him. Ricky Nelson was a teen idol who shot to prominence owing not only to the success of his parents' sitcom, but also to his considerable talent. Although blessed with the appearance worthy of a teen idol, his abilities rendered him far above the category of "bubblegum pop."

             Last night, whilst scouring Youtube for popular music prior to the British Invasion and the onset of psychedelia, I came across a favorite I had neglected for far too long: Ricky Nelson's "Traveling Man." With delight, I replayed the clip three times and thought about the rich trove of music I had ignored for far too long: the music that enchanted us before the Beatles came upon the scene and radically altered popular entertainment. For over an hour, the pleasures of listening to Dion, Buddy Holly, Chuck Berry, Elvis Presley, Little Richard, Jan and Dean, the Ronettes and so many others came back to me.

           My wife, who holds similiar tastes to me, enthusiastically listened as I replayed the clip of the twenty-year-old Mr. Nelson rendering homage to all the girls he had loved before in a variety of locations. Some time earlier, my spouse and I had stumbled upon a clip for a "song" entitled "I got hoes in different area codes" by the appropriately self-labeled Ludacris. Now, my wife, like many others of her generation, has been influenced in a positive way by the feminist movement. Equality is expected and rightfully so; however, the song was as ludicrous as its writer and instead of taking offense, its absurdity drove her to laughter, as it did with me. What is striking is that so many of those who lament the vulgarization of our culture and who look to the "innocence" of the past do not recognize how so much of today's vulgarity has its antecedents in the past itself.

           Returning to the "wholesome" clip of a young Mr. Nelson that I watched last night, it struck me that his song really did not differ all that much from the one of Mr. Ludacris. What differentiates it is, of course, the clean-cut appearance of Mr. Nelson (for all the appreciation I have of modernity, I do wish we had the same aesthetic as the early 1960s -my apologies, I just love narrow-lapeled suits and skinny ties!) and the relative coyness of the lyrics (at least compared to what is being offered fifty years later by Ludacris). Mr. Nelson sings of conquests awaiting him in disparate ports, an "Eskimo" girl who longs for him, a fraulein in Berlin, a señorita in "Old Mexico" and others. Mr. Ludacris more explicitly sings of conquests from area codes ranging from 702 to 212. Is there a difference? Well, of course; rock and roll and rap are two different genres. In reality, musical genres aside, the content is pretty much the same: a man who is coveted by women across the globe and has no qualms about boasting of it. The limits of Post-War America would not allow Mr. Nelson to more graphically illustrate just what the traveling man actually enjoyed in those corners of the globe.

             To juxtapose Ricky Nelson and a rapper is not as ludicrous as it would sound. The nexus exists between the two, just today's musicians are a tad less tactful and evasive when detailing their escapades.