[Beer] Bud Light Platinum / Anheuser-Busch

Posted on February 20, 2012 by Sven

Monday, February 20, 2012—The taste of Bud Light always reminds me of warm beer in plastic cups.

It’s the flavor of beer you buy at a sports event or concert when there’s nothing else available. It’s the flavor of beer that you’re drinking because it’s what’s in the keg. It’s the flavor of beer you get when you’re buying the cheapest thing they have on a cart…you just want something wet to sip on.

Bud Light has so little discernible flavor, I struggle to define it. I can only describe it by the situations in which I might drink it.

With its watery feel and mild, slightly sweet flavor, Bud Light is the beer of choice for people who really don’t like beer.

A few weeks ago Anheuser-Busch launched a new premium light beer, Bud Light Platinum. It’s the new beer for people who don’t like beer, but do like a good beer buzz.

It’s also the beer being packaged in the distinctive deep cobalt blue bottles.

To be perfectly clear, I wasn’t all that curious to try this beer. However, I figured it would be worth drinking to get the blue bottles for my backyard bottle tree.

For those who are unfamiliar with bottle trees, they are a form of yard art, in which bottles of various sizes and colors are placed on a metal “tree”.

Today’s artificial trees trace their artificial roots back to the Appalachian custom of putting real bottles on trees. Some people claim this was to trap evil spirits, others say it was just to cheer up the yard in winter months.

Inside the blue bottle, Bud Light Platinum isn’t much of a light beer. It packs 137 calories per 12 ounce bottle, only a half-teaspoon of sugar away from regular Budweiser, and another half-teaspoon short of most sodas. (Bud Light has only 110 calories per bottle.)

It’s also slightly higher proof than Bud or Bud Light. Budweiser contains 5% ABV (about normal for mainstream beers), and Bud Light is a more sober 4.2@ ABV (which is where most of those calories get shaved off ).

Bud Light Platinum’s packaging proudly proclaims it carries 6% ABV. They want you to know this stuff packs a (slightly) stronger wallop, and they don’t mean it as a warning…it’s a selling point.

Outside the bottle, Bud Light Platinum pours the same piss-yellow, watery, highly carbonated, foamy brew that Bud Light drinkers apparently crave. Of course, all that extra carbonation comes in handy when it’s being served lukewarm from a street vendor’s keg into a clear plastic cup. (The color is there just to remind you what it will be looking like when you see it again in 20 minutes.)

The scent is a vague smell of beer fermenting…corn and yeast.

The taste is surprisingly sweet, with a sort of pear/apple cider flavor and no real beer flavor other than a slight bitterness at the finish.

I’m not really a beer snob. (Really! Read my prior reviews and there a very few things I outright did not like.) I will drink a regular Budweiser if that’s all they’re selling, and I’ll even drink a Bud Light if the price is right. But I do expect a beer to taste like a beer, and this doesn’t. (Neither does Bud Light, but then it doesn’t taste much like anything at all.)

So, trying to tease out who might actually like this beer. It’s a slightly faster drunk than regular Budweiser or Bud Light. It appeals to the American taste for sweet. It’s slightly lighter-bodied than Budweiser, so perhaps will feel less filling over the course of a drinking a few.

Light body, sweet, alcoholic. I think I see the market Anheuser-Busch was going for: under-30, not into beer per se, like to drink socially.

For me, the appeal is the blue bottle. Having secured one, I have no real use for the remaining five bottles in garage fridge. I’m sure someone will come along to drink them, but it won’t be me.

Now, if Budweiser would bring out Bud Ruby in a red bottle, I’d give it a try.

Red bottles are hard to find, and my bottle tree could use a couple.

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[Music] AT40 Annotated—February 17, 1973

Posted on February 19, 2012 by Sven

February 19, 2012—This week’s retrocast of American Top 40 first aired on February 17, 1973.

At the time, I was 11 years old, in the 6th grade.  My mom and I had moved from South San Francisco to Memphis in October, and I was just finishing up at the third of four schools I would attend that school year.

(I started in 6th grade in September in South San Francisco, California. I attended a school in Germantown, Tennessee for a couple months, but we had problems with the school and the apartment (both were new and poorly run}, so we moved to the Whitehaven area over Christmas break. I finished out the quarter at a school a couple blocks away, but court-ordered desegregation resulted in my being bused to a school in a predominantly black area of town several miles away (via the freeway) for the remainder of the school year.)

The fall of 1972 was about the time I first remember listening to Top 40 radio a lot, so a lot more of the top hits are not only familiar, but I can recall hearing them when they were new.

The week’s countdown has all the appeal of Top 40 format radio in the ’70s: every style of popular music is present, from R&B to country and even a little classical and bluegrass. Novelty tracks, earnest singer-songwriters, and cheery sing-a-long tracks, all compressed over three hours.

This is the kind of countdown that makes me realize what we’ve lost in today’s tightly stove-piped radio formats, where all the songs sound the same.

This week’s strange theme: Sesame Street.

40—Gladys Knight and the Pips / Neither One of Us—In listening to these retrocast countdowns, I’ve found that Gladys Knight had a lot of hits over a very long time, and yet I know very few of them. This is one I don’t recall, but it’s another fine vocal performance from Ms. Knight.

39—Curtis Mayfield / Superfly—I totally missed this song when it was popular, and only picked up on it many years later.

38—Seals & Crofts / Hummingbird—The duo’s 2nd big hit is distinctive and catchy, with its slow intro and the fast, repeated refrain that recalls the fast wings and darting flight of a hummingbird. I liked this one when it was popular.

37—Doobie Brothers / Jesus is Just Alright—I’ve heard this track a million times over the years, but I’m not sure I knew it when it was new. Listen to the Music was their first Top 40 hit, just missing the Top 10 list by one notch. This, their 2nd Top 40 hit peaked at #35.

36—Bread / Aubrey—This track debuted on the Top 40 the week prior, and would eventually hit #15, but I don’t recall it. The band’s next (and final) Top 40 hit would come in 1976 (Lost Without Your Love).

35—Anne Murray / Danny’s Song—I recall liking Murray’s second Top 40 hit quite a lot because of its music-hall sing-along chorus. Still, I’ve always found Murray’s voice to be a little flat and expressionless, sort of opposite to the way that Karen Carpenter’s voice was a little bland but always expressed the sound of sunbeams poking through the rainclouds.

34—Gallery / Big City Miss Ruth Anne—Casey introduces this song by telling how the band’s lead singer waited to quit his job as a welder until this song became the band’s second hit single. Unfortunately, this was the band’s last Hot 100 hit, so I can only hope he got his job back. I don’t recall this song at all, and it’s pretty forgettable anyway.

33—Bobbie Womack and Peace / Harry Hippie—This is a strangely serious R&B song about Womack’s brother, Harry. Womack sings “I’d like to help a man when he’s down, but I can’t help him when he’s sleeping on the ground. Sorry Harry, you’re just too much weight to carry around.” The rest of the lyrics are posted below. This is a solid entry in the list of R&B social protests songs…one I don’t recall hearing before, but like quite a lot.

32—The Fifth Dimension / Living Together, Growing Together—I usually like the Fifth Dimension’s hits, but this one has lyrics and an overall sound that would have suited a Coca-Cola ad or placement on Sesame Street. The song was from the soundtrack to the 1973 film version of Lost Horizon.

31—Billy Paul / Me and Mrs. Jones—I must have heard this song a million times when it was popular. A great vocal, with touching lyrics about a complex subject: the singer and a married woman meet every day for coffee but so far haven’t taken their relationship any further. Paul scored a few later R&B hits, but with his great voice, he should have been a bigger star.

30—James Brown / I Got Ants in My Pants—Sigh. Another of Brown’s repetitious, indistinguishable grooves.  Not one I recall from when it was first popular, but they all sound the same, so who knows?

29—Eagles / Peaceful, Easy Feeling—The band’s third hit single from their debut album. Another one that I recall hearing, and singing along to, when it was popular.

28—Moody Blues / I’m Just A Singer (In A Rock and Roll Band)—One of this week’s rock songs packs a powerful beat and still sounds great today. It was the band’s sixth top 40 hit in 10 years on the charts.

27—Chuck Berry / Reelin’ and Rockin’—Berry’s follow-up to his smarmy #1 hit of 1972 My Ding-A-Ling is another song filled with double entendres, but this one rocks harder. Berry still performs today, but this was his last charting single.

26—Joni Mitchell / You Turn Me On, I’m a Radio—I guess the title of grabbed me when this was popular, because I remember liking it…and I generally don’t care for Mitchell’s brand of hippie jazz. This was her first Top 40 hit.

25—Deodato / Also Sprach Zarathustra—I recall hearing this disco-infused funky retake on Ricard Strauss’ classical piece, most well-known from its use in the 1968 film 2001: A Space Odyssey. Deodato’s version was later used prominently in the 1979 film Being There.

24—Paul McCartney and Wings / Hi Hi Hi—Uncle Albert/Admiral Halsey seemed aimed directly at this 10-year-old but two year’s later, this hit was beneath my notice. 1973 would see McCartney and Wings chart four huge hits, including the theme from the James Bond film Live and Let Die. The band was never beneath my notice again.

23—Don McLean / Dreidel—This follow-up to McLean’s two smash hits, American Pie and Vincent (“starry, starry night”) is a limp take on how life spins around like a top. It was McLean’s last hit 1980.

22—Bette Midler / Do You Want to Dance—This painfully slow, pantingly sexual remake of the sunny 1962 hit by Cliff Richard makes me want to listen to the Ramones version just to clean it out of my ears.

21—Loggins and Messina / Do You Want to Dance—This was the duo’s first big hit, and I must have heard it a million times when it was popular. I think this type of retro rock was even more popular in the Memphis area.

20—Brighter Side of Darkness / Love Jones—This song, with lead harmony vocals by a 12-year-old, is almost as bad as Cheech and Chong’s parody, Basketball Jones. The original peaked at #16, while the parody peaked at #15. ‘Nuff said.

19—Dr. Hook and the Medicine Show / The Cover of the Rolling Stone—This is another one that I must have heard (and sung along to) a million times. It’s one of those songs that borders on novelty and could either enchant or annoy, depending on your mood. Dr, Hook had a solid 10 top 40 hits over the decade, all varied but all solidly pop-based. The last was Baby Makes Her Blue Jeans Talk.

18—Blue Ridge Rangers (John Fogarty) / Jambalya—Fogarty’s first solo album was credited to the “Blue Ridge Rangers”. This cover of the Hank Williams classic sounds enough like Creedence Clearwater Revival that I doubt many music fans were fooled. The song has been covered many times, including another 1973 version by the Carpenters.

17—Marvin Gaye / Trouble Man—I don’t recall this slight (and short) track from Gaye. It’s hardly memorable, even having just heard it.

16—Jermaine Jackson / Daddy’s Home—Jackson’s remake of this doo-wop track showcases his smooth voice. It’s hard to believe he didn’t have more solo hits, but he hit the Top 40 only one more time at the end of the decade.

15—The O’Jays / Love Train—It’s hard to imagine a more uplifting song, with a chugging beat that just puts me in a good mood, even after nearly 40 years. It was only the second top 40 hit for this terrific band.

14—King Harvest / Dancing in the Moonlight—Another one I remember clearly from when it was a hit. I don’t hear it much today, and it was the band’s one and only hit from their only album. (Nothing else on the album sounds much like it, either.) It’s clearly a product of its time, with slang that’s dated, and a sound that is mellow and maybe a little stoned. A great feel-good track.

13—Edward Bear / Last Song—I remember liking this maudlin song, with its sort of vaudeville arrangement. The band only had one other charting hit in the U.S., and is named for Winnie-the-Pooh.

12—Stevie Wonder / Superstition—Wonder’s 13th Top 10 hit was inescapable when it was charting. I miss the Stevie Wonder on the 1970s.

11—War / The World is a Ghetto—Never much liked this band, although at least this track doesn’t sound like a novelty song. (Unlike Low Rider or Cisco Kid.) The accompanying album was #1 this week.

10—John Denver / Rocky Mountain High—A great performance of a beautiful song, but one for many years I avoided because of its easy-listening arrangement.

09—Timmy Thomas / Why Can’t We Live Together—The first charting single from the former session musician for Memphis’ Goldwax record label. The rhythm track sounds several years ahead of it’s time, as computer programming would become very popular with the new wave crowd. Despite many years appearing on hundreds of R&B and soul hits, this was Thomas’ only hit. Many people may not realize Sade’s version on her mammoth debut album, Diamond Life, was a cover.

08—Lobo / Don’t Expect Me to be Your Friend—Lobo’s follow up to I’d Love You to Want Me was his third and final Top 10 hit, although he managed 5 other Top 40 hits before the end of the decade.

07—Spinners / Could It Be I’m Falling In Love—Another great track by this terrific band…still sounds incredible today. This was the band’s 5th top T0 hit in 13 years. They’d have 5 more before the end of the decade.

06—Steely Dan / Do It Again—This first Top 40 hit from the Dan led listeners to think they would be a huge pop band. Instead, the band turned out to be willfully non-pop, producing jazz-inflected rock. Their biggest influence on the pop charts wouldn’t happen until the last few years of the decade when they re-embraced the sound of pop music with hits like Peg and FM.

05—Roberta Flack / Killing Me Softly With His Song—Anyone who’s heard this record knows what a great vocal performance it holds, intimate and urgent. It just makes me cringe when I hear that idiotic shout out “One time!” from the hip-hop remake by the Fugees.

04—Eric Weissberg and Steve Mandell (Deliverance Motion Picture Soundtrack) / Dueling Banjos—After hearing the preceding 36 songs, it’s hard to imagine the amped-up bluegrass cover of the 1956 instrumental would be such a mammoth hit. Even harder to imagine it comes from a disturbing film scene involving a mentally-retarded inbred Appalachian boy.

03—Hurricane Smith / Oh Babe, What Would You Say—This number is sort of a cross between the vaudeville of Edward Bear and the soul of Billy Paul. I can’t avoid thinking about Sesame Street’s Mr. Snuffleupagus, although quick research shows it was the blue shaggy Muppet monster Thog who performed it.

02—Carly Simon / You’re So Vain—Simon’s 3rd Top 10 hit totally captivated me as a kid. Not because of the mysterious identity of the song’s subject, but just because he led such a glamorous life. At age 11, I thought that guy was cool.

01—Elton John / Crocodile Rock—John’s 6th Top 10 hit was the first that I recall catching my ear and the beginning of years of my teen obsession with the pop star. At my age, I didn’t really understand the song’s call-out to the music of the ’50s, I just liked that the song had some high-pitched vocals I could sing along to. The song was #1 for three weeks. Elton would totally dominate pop music for the next four years, releasing eight albums and dozens of singles, before (temporarily) turning his back on pop music in 1977.

Lyrics: Harry Hippie / Bobby Womack (1972)

Everybody claims that they want the best things
Outta life, (ha) but not everyone, not everyone
Want to got through the toils and strifes.
Like this particular fella, walks around
All day long singing this song
 
Harry Hippie, lies asleep in the shade,
Life don’t bug him cause he
Thinks he’s got it made.
He never worry about nothing in particular
Oh he might even sell free press on Sunset.
 
I’d like to help a man when he’s down
But I can’t help him much
When he’s sleeping on the ground.
 
He’s like a bottle in water
Harry just floats through life
Walks around all day long singing this song
Whoa, whoa, whoa, oh yeah
 
Mary Hippie, she’s Harry’s lady
Panhandles money just to feed Harry’s baby.
She can lie down a story so incredible
Man, you want to help her take the food
Home and put it on the table.
 
I’d like to help a man when he’s down,
But I can’t help ya Harry
If you want to sleep on the ground.
Sorry Harry, you’re too much weight
To carry around.
 
But he still walks around all day singin’ this song
 
Street child, street child, tell me where
Will you be goin’
When old man winter gets his horn
And starts blowin’
Will you hang around LA
Or hitch a ride on a freeway
Meet an old familiar face in a new place.
 
I’d like to help a man when he’s down
But how can I help him
If he’s somewhere outta town
Sorry Harry, think I’m gonna put you down.

 

Lyrics by Jeffrey Ford © Universal Music Publishing Group

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[Stage] Million Dollar Quartet

Posted on February 16, 2012 by Sven

Wednesday, February 15, 2012 (Memphis TN)—The Bottom Line: Million Dollar Quartet is a “jukebox” musical based on real event: an impromptu recording session by Johnny Cash, Jerry Lee Lewis, Carl Perkins and Elvis Presley at the Sun Records studio in Memphis. As a play, it’s fairly shallow, even by Broadway musical standards. As a concert, it’s as close as anyone will ever come to seeing these four legends play their early hits together.

Million Dollar Quartet is a somewhat fictionalized telling of one of popular music’s most intriguing footnotes. On December 4, 1956, four of rock ‘n’ roll’s legendary performers, Johnny Cash, Jerry Lee Lewis, Carl Perkins and Elvis Presley, came together in a recording studio for the first and final time.

The event probably didn’t seem as momentous at the time as it does today. The four didn’t really plan to record anything, and it was mostly happenstance that they were all there at the same time.

And despite the fact that Presley was finishing his first year as the “king of rock and roll”, their places in music history weren’t as assured as it now seems.

The story is loosely narrated by Sam Philips, founder of Sun Studio and the man who gave each of these legends their their first recording sessions. Along the way, the plot adds a little historical foreshadowing that would not have been possible at the time. (I’ll note where the story deviates significantly from history.)

At the end of 1956, Perkins was at Sun Studio, trying to record his next hit single. He’d had a massive national hit with Blue Suede Shoes (#1 Country, #2 Pop) earlier in the year, but his follow-up singles were relegated to the country charts, and he was hungry for another pop hit.

To make matters worse, Perkins’ signature hit had been performed by Presley on Ed Sullivan’s TV show, and the public thought of the song as Elvis’, not Perkins’. (Presley was always essentially a covers artist, a vocal stylist and performer, rather than a musician or writer.)

Phillips had recently signed a young piano player, Lewis, and thought the addition of keyboards to Perkins’ sound would give him the rock ’n’ roll sound needed for another pop hit.

Cash was in the studio to watch Perkins record. He’d had a couple country hits during the year, and his latest, Folsom Prison Blues, was burning up the country charts.

Later in the afternoon, Presley and a young woman, a singer named Dyanne, drop by the studio. (In real life, the woman was a dancer named Marilyn Evans.) Presley was capping off a year as the biggest name in popular music, having charted five #1 singles and nine other Top 40 hits.

Presley ended up hanging around, and the four performers, backed by Perkins’ band, passed the afternoon playing whatever songs they knew (mostly gospel and country songs they were all familiar with).

The event might not have seemed monumental (certainly not outside Memphis). While Presley was as hot a commodity as the world had known, Cash and Perkins had just achieved their first tastes of national fame earlier in the year. Like Lewis, many of their biggest achievements were still to come.

Still, someone had the sense to record the sessions…and in real life, alert the newspaper. A reporter and photographer were sent over, and the now-iconic photo of the four clustered behind a piano was snapped.

The next day, the photo ran in the Memphis Press-Scimitar under the headline “Million Dollar Quartet”.

Today’s entertainment industry would have released the recordings within a few weeks, but the tapes of the Quartet’s recordings remained lost on Sun’s vaults for over a decade before someone finally thought to cull a compilation of the most-polished tracks.

The story’s dynamic tension comes from the tug and push of fortune and fame. Phillips is holding a contract extension for Cash, not knowing he had already signed with Columbia Records with the promise he can record a gospel album. Phillips also doesn’t know that Perkins is planning to decamp to Columbia as well.

Meanwhile, Presley is nudging Phillips to sell Sun to RCA so he can move to New York City, where the two can work together again. (The previous year, Phillips had sold Presley’s contract to RCA for $40,000 to keep the record company solvent. This potential sale of Sun to RCA is apparently a bit of fiction.

By the end of the story, all has been revealed, but Phillips is sunny; he’s just signed another new act, a “funny looking guy from Texas” with the equally funny name of Roy Orbison.

Phillips steps forward to remind us the four entertainers never performed together again, bringing the narrative to a solemn end, but in a flash if lights, the set flies away and sequined jackets descend from rock’n'roll heaven, and the show ends with a high-energy glitzy mini-concert.

Overall, the story could have used a little more plot. The dialog is a little paint-by-numbers, as characters voice thoughts that are designed to fill in the historical narrative.

The lack of set or costume changes may be historically accurate, but it made the staging seem a little static. During the story, Phillips recalls how he met each of the performers, and setting those as flashback scenes would have allowed for some set changes.

(The single set and small cast makes the show seem like it was designed for eventual performances in smaller theaters and maybe even high school auditoriums. On the other hand, the actors have to be able to sing and play instruments, making it more challenging that it might initially appear.)

One of the tricks to the performance is that the actors have to be able to act, to look and move like their famous roles, and sing and play their own instruments. Given all that, a live production of Million Dollar Quartet is a feat unto itself.

The leads were all terrific in the musical numbers, and at least polished in the interstitial dialog where they reveal their doubts, display their competitive natures, and try to divine their own futures.

Most memorable was Martin Kaye as Lewis. His antics and continual barrage of punchlines give him the most outlandish role. He manages to duplicate many of Lewis’ tricks: playing the piano behind his back, stomping on the keyboard, and in general acting like a little crazy behind the keyboard.

Perkins, as a man at the crossroads in his career, carries most of the dramatic weight in the story. Lee Ferris does so handily, while also shredding his guitar in slightly modernized versions of Perkins’ hits. Overall, he came across the most skilled in balancing acting with performing.

Cody Slaughter has the challenge of playing Presley, whose appearance and speaking style are the most familiar of the characters. Slaughter genuinely looks like Elvis, and has his mannerisms, his slight stutter, and his dance moves down pat. Slaughter comes by his southern accent naturally; he’s from Harrison, in northeast Arkansas. He won the 2011 Ultimate Elvis Tribute Artist Contest sponsored by Elvis Presley Enterprises.

Cash is portrayed by Derek Keeling, who sounds a lot of like Cash when singing. As an actor, he didn’t leave much of an impression, although it seemed his character had the least to do among the cast. (Cash was also known for being far from loquacious.)

The character of Dyanne is a sort of Greek chorus, reacting to what she hears and sees, and counseling each of the characters in separate scenes. Kelly Lamont was serviceable in those scenes, but she gets a couple solo numbers, including a burning turn on Peggy Lee’s classic hit, Fever.

The actor I was most troubled by was Christopher Ryan Grant. His portrayal of Phillips as a chain-smoking, middle aged man was sort of pre-fab and lacked any hint of what made Phillips such a smart businessman or a musical visionary. Sure, if it’s not in the script, it’s not in the script, but I came away with no impression of what Grant brought to the role.

In the end, Million Dollar Quartet would have benefited from more dialog and perhaps fewer songs. The play runs 1:40 without intermission, so there was plenty of time to add in a few scenes outside the studio to flesh out the plot lines that are only sketched in.

Perhaps the story’s greatest flaw is that it assumes the idea of putting the four entertainers on stage is enough to make the audience care. The story resonated with me because I brought my own knowledge of the event into the theater with me. I doubt that is true for the average theater-goer.

Adding an opening scene of the discovery of the long-forgotten tapes, or some other framing device to give the story more of an emotional wallop would have only improved it.

As it is, Million Dollar Quartet is a bit lightweight, a piece of fluff that allows fans the opportunity to live out the fantasy of being at Sun Studio that day. It’s fun, but offers nothing for the audience to ponder after the final curtain.

[Details] I saw Million Dollar Quartet on its first national tour at the Orpheum Theater at the foot of Beale Street in Memphis. Sun Studio is still open today, just a few blocks away on Union Avenue. I took my Mom, who sang along with many of the songs and kibitzed about Slaughter’s accent and claiming (correctly) that Ferris was too heavyset to look like Perkins. Both she and Elvis had left Memphis by December 1956.

[Comments] If you’ve seen Million Dollar Quartet, please share your thoughts in the comments below.

Arguably, this photo is the inspiration for the play.

 

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