"The Beatles and I went to India for ourselves at first because fame had become extraordinarily overwhelming. We turned to ourselves in a way by going to the ashram, learning about ourselves, de-stressing our incredible nervous systems that had been shocked by enormous fame."
I realize that I risk becoming a cliche when I cry over the first notes of John Lennon's "Imagine" -- that song plucks the same chord in me as it does for progressive, idealistic do-gooders all over the world.
Such scrappy behavior -- hopeful, yet realist in a "turning world" -- is what propels this Down Under band over the precarious tightrope navigating the middle ground between dreams and nightmares on their journey to define a rock 'n' roll (r)evolution in the 21st century.
Mrs. Davy Jones. This is what I wrote all over the inside front over of my three-ring notebook in 7th grade. I couldn't write it on the front cover because that was plastered with "Mrs. Paul McCartney."
In 1969 I went to Woodstock. The girls all around me were going crazy for the musicians on stage. If any of those players had come down off the stage and walked through the crowd they would have had girls clinging to them like dryer sheets on a pair of freshly dried socks. I wanted that.
For social gatherings at home built around screening movies, outstanding rock documentaries and concert films are virtually guaranteed crowd pleasers, particularly if your home theater set-up includes a quality sound system.
Prior to The Oscars' embracing Outasight's "Tonight Is The Night" -- well, not with an award but with broadcast muscle -- the single had airplay on over 115 Top 40 radio stations, sales of over 530,000 copies, over 18,000 daily streams on Spotify, and over 5 million views on YouTube.
I never thought Nico would make me feel 14 again. That's exactly what happened last week when I caught Tammy Lang's performance of Chelsea Madchen, a fabulous show in which she eerily reincarnates the Warhol superstar Nico.