Tony Bennett – 92
Harry Belafonte – 92
Burt Bacharach – 90
Ennio Morricone – 90
Loretta Lynn – 87
John Williams – 87
Willie Nelson – 86
Quincy Jones – 86
Little Richard – 86
Yoko Ono – 86
John Mayall – 85
Richard Chamberlain – 85
Herb Alpert – 84
Pat Boone – 84
Jerry Lee Lewis – 83
Johnny Mathis – 83
Sam Moore – 83
Kris Kristofferson – 82
Buddy Guy – 82
Charlie Daniels – 82
Don Everly – 82
Frankie Valli – 82
Wanda Jackson – 81
Charley Pride – 81
Kenny Rogers – 80
Bill Withers – 80
Gordon Lightfoot – 80
Smokey Robinson – 79
Herbie Hancock – 79
Mavis Staples – 79
Tina Turner – 79
Ginger Baker – 79
Ian Hunter – 79
Grace Slick – 79
Spencer Davis – 79
Giorgio Moroder – 79
Bob James – 79
Phil Lesh – 79
Neil Diamond – 78
Joan Baez – 78
Ringo Starr – 78
Aaron Neville – 78
Ann-Margret – 78
Mike Love – 78
Dionne Warwick – 78
Tom Jones – 78
Toni Tennille – 78
Bob Dylan – 77
Barbra Streisand – 77
David Crosby – 77
Graham Nash – 77
Charlie Watts – 77
George Clinton – 77
Darlene Love – 77
Paul Simon – 77
Art Garfunkel – 77
Wayne Newton – 77
Carole King – 77
Dr. John – 77
Helen Reddy – 77
Paul Anka – 77
John McLaughlin – 77
Eric Burdon – 77
Mark Lindsay – 77
Paul McCartney – 76
Brian Wilson – 76
Andy Summers – 76
Sly Stone – 76
Mike Nesmith – 76
Jean-Luc Ponty – 76
Rodriguez – 76
Taj Mahal – 76
Mick Jagger – 75
Keith Richards – 75
Jimmy Page – 75
Diana Ross – 75
Roger Daltrey – 75
Joni Mitchell – 75
Randy Newman – 75
Roger Waters – 75
David Gilmour – 75
Steve Miller – 75
Julio Iglesias – 75
Albert Lee -75
Geddy Lee – 75
Tony Orlando – 75
Barry Manilow – 75
Dickey Betts – 75
Eric Clapton – 74
Rod Stewart – 74
Stephen Stills – 74
Bob Seger – 74
Jeff Beck – 74
Billy Cobham – 74
Robbie Robertson – 74
Jon Anderson – 74
Ray Davies – 74
Boz Scaggs – 74
Gladys Knight – 74
Tim Rice – 74
Robin Trower – 74
Dolly Parton – 73
Neil Young – 73
John Fogerty – 73
John Paul Jones – 73
Pete Townshend – 73
Debbie Harry – 73
Van Morrison – 73
Itzhak Perlman – 73
Steve Martin – 73
Bette Midler – 73
Don McLean – 73
Al Green – 73
Elton John – 72
Iggy Pop – 72
Robert Fripp – 72
Dennis DeYoung – 72
Jimmy Buffett – 72
Linda Ronstadt – 72
Cher – 72
Daryl Hall – 72
Carmine Appice – 72
Ry Cooder – 72
Steve Howe – 72
Howard Shore – 72
Melanie – 72
Steven Tyler – 71
Kenny Loggins – 71
Jim Messina – 71
Brian May – 71
Joe Walsh – 71
Bob Weir – 71
Mick Fleetwood – 71
Ronnie Wood – 71
James Taylor – 71
Carlos Santana – 71
John Oates – 71
Stephen Sondheim – 71
Donald Fagan – 71
Andrew Lloyd Webber – 71
Ian Anderson – 71
T Bone Burnett – 71
Ozzy Osbourne – 70
Robert Plant – 70
Stevie Nicks – 70
Steve Perry – 70
Grace Jones – 70
Rick Ocasek – 70
Billy Joel – 70
Jackson Browne – 70
Ted Nugent – 70
Cat Stevens – 70
Lulu – 70
Steve Winwood – 70
Brian Eno – 70
Brian Ferry – 70
the best times to tell stories and the best time to reveal things and the best times you’re interesting
are the times you really dont wanna write at all
and thats when your world is inside out and youre in a free fall
and you think youre gonna die.
during those times every part of your brain is firing because its trying to protect you from freaking out
and every sliver of fear is done stretching and theyre now ready to run.
problem is, im not fixin to die.
im tony pierce. busblog. king of siam. leader of the underdogs.
defender of freedom.
all of this is happening for all the right reasons and my network of angels are working overtime to get me where i need to be
just like the done when i wanted to go to the world series.
did i deserve to go there, and the parade afterwards? no.
no more so than any one else.
likewise i dont deserve all these people writing and DMing me and emailing me to provide help. and i feel bad when i dont seem super eager when they offer me this or that.
unfortunately i want the world.
unfortunately i know what i want, and i can see the future, and i can read peoples hearts, and when i tell them about every purplish vein in there it can be jarring and uncomfortable.
which is why even though its so damn cliche i would love to start a podcast and get it going fast. today i was procrastinating reading the bible because i didnt do it on sunday and the whole time i was all i wanna interview him and her and him and her.
i got to rodney on the roq. and i imagined what id ask him. and i predicted how he would get shy and how i would ask him about his shyness
and i would ask him do you know that morrissey song ask
shyness is nice / but shyness can stop you / from doing all the things in life you want to
i want a podcast so i can ask a music legend if he is familiar with a hit tune from a music legend that he helped get big, and ask him if he feels seen with that song.
i was like ma thats tom morello from rage against the machine
who not only looks like a thinner, wealthier, healthier me,
also happens to be a damn guitar hero.
as in, he’s one of the guitar heroes you have to face off against in the billion dollar best selling video game guitar hero
born in harlem, but raised in naperville i think.
like chicago, his mom is half italian half irish and his dad is from kenya. but the good part of kenya. his great uncle was the country’s first elected president. i guess they had kings before that. who knows. who knows anything?
tom probably would. he graduated from harvard and then found his way in one of the most powerfully aggressive hyper political heavy rock bands of the 90s. the singer zach de la rocha had this wild afro and stormed around the stage exactly like you would if you were trying to incite a riot.
riots were incited.
only one guitarist in this band that sounded like it had 80. and that one was tom. he plays solos like no one else.
it’s painfully sharp at times.
it sounds like what electrocution probably feels like.
the music is meant to get under your skin. the bassist has a stylized filled in giant tattoo of all black.
also, tom is a cubs fan. also, he played in Bruce Springsteen’s E Street Band for a little while, and on eight tracks of his album “high hopes”.
when chris cornell left soundgarden for a little while, rick rubin suggested that he hook up with tom and rage because zach had left them to do something far more interesting than be a super star singer of a incredibly important band
chris and tom and tattoo guy and the drummer (who has been dating juliet lewis for a while) made a band called audioslave which showed us what rage would sound like with an otherworldy singer instead of a dynamic rapper shouter.
they kicked ass.
audioslave’s first record went triple platinum, and their follow up went regular platinum. they had a medicore third record, broke up, and tom found himself in a band with the dude from cypress hill and chuck d from public enemy called prophets of rage which was an interesting thing on paper but weirdly… bruce, chris, chuck d, b real, there was something very different about tom and zach
it was a one two punch in the middle of grunge that took it up a notch. for years if you wanted to put a little spice into a huge festival youd have the red hot chili peppers, but on a night of say 15 bands, if rage was on the bill they better be put on last because how are you gonna follow a hurricane of angst and power and barbed wire solos?
which brings us to sunday. some devout fans of rage and tom thought that presenting at the oscars is the opposite of punk rock, and to wear a tuxedo is not very rock n roll.
but anyone who has listened to him in interviews would know, he’s not really here begging for you to love him. he’s just here to save the world.
adam levine, the singer of the extremely mediocre Maroon 5, could have become a rock and NFL legend today
musicians from Rihanna to Cardi B turned down the honor of performing at halftime of the Super Bowl this year, in solidarity against the obvious collusion that has kept quarterback Colin Kaepernick out of the NFL.
through their performance levine took off a jacket, a sweater, and then his shirt before ending the show bare chested and stupid. if under his sweater was a Kaepernick jersey, levine would have won the hearts of gazillions.
instead neither he nor the band wanted to acknowledge the elephant in the room and they pranced around like dingos, did their tunes, and got off the stage.
by now we should know that Maroon 5 will not save us. neither will most of the flashes in the pan that for one reason or another hang around beyond their expiration date.
but in the realm of rock n roll, there is a beautiful history of rebellion and protest that should never be forgotten. once upon a time tattoos were the symbol of defiance and individuality. today it’s just another accessory.
the nfl chose the right johnny bravos to keep things as least interesting as possible, but one day rock will return.
some say it’s the largest home in all of beverly hills. some say it has 54 rooms.
i say, thats a lot of rooms for a single family with five kids in the late 1920s.
it was super cool. we were on a special visit. the people gave us an amazing tour that included the secret bowling alley and hidden bar.
the grounds are used for weddings a lot.
amber does this funny thing where she says i dont want to get married but if i did i would want to do it… and invite…. and honeymoon in….
so yesterday i told her the story of mick and jerry and how happy they were when they were not married and how they broke up almost as soon as they got hitched and i showed her pictures and i thought i had convinced her
until we visited the largest home in beverly hills and the gardens where even famous people have been married in. with its sweeping views of LA.
i love music so much and music docs or retellings, especially if they utilize the actual tunes, will have me glued, so i am the wrong person to ask about the Freddy Mercury film because of course i loved it.
rami malek was perfect in every way possible. his accent, his moves, the way he arched his back, the way he posed
i grew up in an extremely homophobic town. if you were a teenage boy you could barely say you liked Journey without being called gay. And yet every long haired rocker had a Judas Priest shirt despite the fact that Rob Halford was never seen without a full leather daddy outfit.
Why were we surprised when he came out, likewise why was Queen of all bands allowed a pass?
Because sometimes the music is so good that the champion of the gayest guy in the room can sing it right to your face and all you see are heart emojis.
I’m still very curious why I never thought about Freddy’s sexuality while in high school. Could he have been more blatant? Whatever. Loved him then, love him more now.
My only gripe about the film was they glossed right over “Under Pressure” like it’s NBD that Queen had an unbelievable collaboration with David Bowie. As if that song wasn’t a huge hit for both of them. For Queen it was just their second #1 tune in the UK, for Bowie it was his third.
Originally Bowie came to the studio with Queen to sing background on a song that was never released. So while he was there they jammed and tried another song that failed. Later they met up again in Switzerland and jammed and you can hear via the scatting on “Under Pressure” how they were formulating the dynamic tune. It is epic not in length but in styles. Count how many changes happen in it: a gazillion. It goes from one song to another to another to another and returns to that beautiful Vanilla Ice riff.
How do you just toss that into a story about something else?
Whatever. Loved it. Give the dude an award because fuck man that could not have been easy to do.
i still have cable tv. i still miss my mtv. even though i listen to jazz on sundays i couldnt tell you four miles davis records let alone four white piano players.
i try but i am Joe Sixpack who fortunately moved to LA at the right time otherwise id have 2.4 kids and a four bedroom 3 bath house with a messy garage in suburbia right now, id be fatter and balder and seeing possibilities with Mitt.
but like i said the Lord nudged me west and opened my mind so you can all get inside
when i landed on this coast in the mid 80s, one young woman after another told me i was on the wrong path; that i was steering into sexism and stupidism and lazyism, and god bless them for calling bullshit because my dude friends sure as hell never told me those things.
so here we are in the future i never expected. a world without mtv. dumbest president ever, voted on by the most gullible 60 million plus some russian bots. only music can tame this wild beast so after seeing this glorious write up in my favorite paper, i told the gf that i bought tickets, in cleveland, to listen to classical music in that gorgeous setting.
she was all, fuck yeah.
until i learned that the stones are playing that same night here in LA. what to do? the Stones are olllllld. there can’t be that many more chances to see Keef and Mick bouncing around. they want my money and i want to give it to them.
do you know how many times i say Siri, play Some Girls?
all the times. do you know i devoured keiths book? how much i love how they took black music and immersed themselves in it and washed it behind their ears and let it seep into their nooks and crannies and marinated in it album after album in the early days and then, as if it was like magic, 1967 appeared and out came the perfect swirl of brit pop, american r ‘n b, and lsd. her satanic majesty’s secret sauce. the perfect storm. the storm before the storm because boom boom boom one classic after another.
will this tour be a celebration of experimentation and exploitation?
no. it too is living in the future they never thought would exist: selling out stadiums in their mid 70s.
but everything is possible in this brave new world so when i said baby the Cleveland show i wanna go to is the same day as the Stones show, what do we do?
she said, “lets go to Cleveland, ive already seen the Stones. And you have too, several times.”
and my mind was blown because once again a delightful woman had gently advised me that i buy in to the hype time and again. i am the most basic of bitches. the most gullible of guppies. i am Joe Sixpack, quietly being led to the slaughter.
shes been a little bit sick so shes been in bed for two days,
i was standing with my shirt off and long plaid pajama pants on
eating some jumbo shrimp i had just gotten for myself after going out to get her soup and seltzer water.
she said, “you remind me of a lot of the rock stars that stay at my hotel”
she works at a fancy beverly hills joint
she said, “you don’t worry about anything. you’re just cool.”
shes lived with me over a year and thats what she thinks?
oh i worry.
i worry this whole thing might get pulled out from under me at any minute.
i am not in control of anything. i could do the greatest job ever on this secret project and still get thrown to the wolves. i could do a cruddy job and get praised. you never know what people will think.
but my biggest fear is not a person at all. it’s God. i wanna go to Heaven. but you dont get in because of your dazzling good looks or witty banter. it’s your heart. and you can’t fake that.
of course i care about the poor and others and this one and that one but i was in the xbi. ive done some things. who knows if im forgiven?
Yes Jessica painted this painting that i bought from her that she framed and sent to me. it says “forgive yourself. for all of it.”
it’s hung right next to my giant bedroom tv. right above a Cubs hat. i look at it every. single. day.
but there are some unforgivable things.
and even if i convince myself that there arent, what if God disagrees?
the Good Book says the only unforgivable sin is blasphemy, or more specifically denying God. everything else has been paid for by Jesus.
let’s hope thats the case because i would like to go back to worrying about the same things that rock stars in swanky hotels should worry about: when will the creativity dry up one day, when will the pretty girls stop paying attention,
and when will that Mexicoke ever arrive from room service?