Its great the record company let them write the songs… that made a big difference. It could have been bland pop with pro songwriters. It was a hit a about 3 years before I entered high school and the band was playing it at pep assemblies and at football games. It was so popular, we played it almost as much as our school song.
It was the song everyone had memorized. Marching band was always strict — you never broke from being at attention when you were playing. This song we could dance, jump, and move all over the place when we played it. I have so many fun memories attached to this song. Years after I had graduated, we still played it when we did alumni band.
I want to say that it remained a favorite right up until our band director retired. I still think of band class every time I hear it. Recently, a friend came over and I pulled out the trumpet. No surprise, I still remember how to play it! I could see where it would be a great song to cover.
Cool dude…glad you still remember how! It was a perfect band song — great driving drums, easy bass line, and trumpet melody. We played it loud and fast! Such fun! Long before my radio career, my band director would have me record the songs onto cassettes with intros to the songs that were sent from music publishing companies on vinyl.
My job was to tell him the song name and then play the song. Connect me to people I follow on Twitter? If we find matches from the people you follow on Twitter, we'll connect you to them right away. Tell my followers about Myspace? Let your followers know you're on Myspace with a Tweet. Welcome to Myspace. Just start typing to find music. Play Next. Create a mix. Sign in to start building your own. Connecting to your webcam. Harrison says. They wanted to do that a dance record.
I wanted to write good songs with strong melodies. Harrison is among those who fear that melody is a dying art in pop music. During this period of time I really moved away from habits I had developed before like smoking cigarettes and drinking. Though I would occasionally partake of things like that. My hunger for partying during this time was sparse. By the time I had entered into my 9th grade year, the first year of high school, I was more into music than ever.
Hootie and the Blowfish were popular, though me and my ever growing band of marauders were anti-pop and therefore anti-Hootie. Silverchair, Greenday and Alanis Morrisette were big during this time. At the beginning of the school year a TV series came on that changed the way I would look at music forever. My parents and I watched these shows as they came on religiously. I was drawn in to the story and life of the Beatles, and most of all their later era of music. There was a move away from the pop sound they had before and into a stranger, more speculative approach to songwriting.
This was the era where they began using marijuana regularly. I remember the time in the Anthology series where they talked of marijuana as something that seemed to enlighten them spiritually, making them more creative and philosophical. During this time I was making close friendships with a few friends, one named Mitchell and the other Duane.
Mitchell played guitar often, but was beginning to become a virtuoso on bass- getting into prog rock by Rush and Frank Zappa , and Duane played drums and was heavily into Mitch Mitchell from the Jimi Hendrix experience and Jimmy Chamberlain from the Smashing Pumpkins. Because we wanted so much to be like the people we looked up to, the next step for us was to smoke marijuana. Duane was into it before all of us, because he had older friends than we did, and we were ready and willing to join him.
My parents were out of town, and Duane had filled a Black and Mild Cigar with dope. Before we could finish setting up or even play one song, Duane pulled out the Black and Mild and convinced us we should light it up. I was beginning to become less careful and encouraged him to go for it.
Duane encouraged me to inhale it deep and hold it in. I did just that and coughed and coughed until I felt like my lungs were going to pop out of my mouth.
I tried a few more hits just like that and then quit, letting Duane finish the rest. I think Mitchell may have tried one hit, but backed off. So we had finished smoking, and I went back to setting up equipment.
The last thing I remembered was being in my basement grabbing speakers and not being able to lift them. I began to freak out as numbness filled my body and clouded my mind. The next thing I remember is laying on the ground, with all the boys from Aftermath laughing at me and mocking me, though one named Antony was actually pretty concerned for me.
I was flipping out at this point, thinking that I was about to die. Just ride the snake man, ride the snake! My next memory was playing music with my boys in Mulberry Tree. The high began to wear off and I was grateful to have felt such fear and yet survive it. Also, all the anger I felt towards my parents, the terrible grades I was getting in school, and the social pressures just seemed to fade away for 4 hours. Later that night all those feelings magnified though.
I slipped into a more depressive state, clinging to the sounds of Beatles records, playing the guitar, and writing down poetry to comfort myself. After that experience, the school week passed by in an anti-climactic fashion.
I talked to friends like Kaden about the experience, and it seemed to scare him. Other pot-head kids which I had once viewed as crazy with a higher level of juvenile mania. All of a sudden they became close acquaintances. I longed to get high again and ride the edge of the cliff once more. To be sure, being grounded for a month after being busted with weed was a drag.
But the hair that my parents cut off began to grow back, as did my hunger for the adrenal reality of post-adolescent mischief. Oasis was a band that rode on the back of what could have been the twentieth consecutive wave of Beatlemania that happened after the Fab Four hit the charts. I wrote their name on a piece of paper and taped it to my bedroom wall with a circle around it and a line through it. These posters replaced all my half naked photographs of women.
I may not have been able to leave my house regularly since being grounded for a month when caught with dope, but I did find creative ways to keep my marijuana habits regular. He was regularly into the use of dope and was starting to dip into the world of psychadelics. My parents thought they were monitoring me well, and I convinced them to drop me off early for school so I could get caught up on homework.
Really, I was meeting with Damien and smoking pot behind a set of canoes that were not far away from Hudson High School in Ohio. We would meet on these cool spring mornings, with a layer of dew kissing the blades of grass on the ground. He would bring cigarettes filled with marijuana also.
He managed to get me high before school on a good number of days. I would buy marijuana in small amounts from Damien, and take it home. I learned the trick of using eye drops as well. I would put them into my beet-red eyes, which would always be the side effect of smoking pot, and they would turn my eyes white. As far as they knew, I was making quite the turn-around. But I was pretty sure I had them fooled.
One day I was stoned at school, and it was gym class time. At this point I still had shaggy, long hair and was becoming as skinny as a rail from continued use of cigarettes, dope and a steady diet of strong black coffee.
I would normally skip lunch and use substances to stave off my hunger. Especially me, because the only sport I was engaging in at the time was running sprints from school authorities and testing my lung capacity with various types of toxic smoke.
Norman always made fun of me for my inability to run more than one lap around a track without getting winded, and my knack for only performing 3 push-ups before collapsing to the ground. I began running backwards and cracking jokes, mocking the foolishness of the game. Kurt Bartmann was a short kid who happened to be tying his shoes on his knees behind me as I was running backwards. I ran backwards right into him and tripped over him like modern version of Donald Duck in the old Disney cartoons.
The next thing I knew I was in Mr. Twisted up like a pretzel eh? You ever seen an injury like that Joe, huh?
Norman was commenting, making a spectacle of my severe injury to his jockey, meat-lovers pizza eating friends. Jerry Harrison was so impressed with the performance of his backup band on his tour that he brought them back around to share billing on his third album, Walk on Water. It's ironic, then, that none of his star players and partisans feature audibly on the recording. The soulful backing of vocalists Dollette McDonald and Nona Hendryx creep into the mix from time to time, as does Bernie Worrell 's blistering keyboard work, but it's clear that Harrison has chosen Walk on Water , his first post- Talking Heads album, to be a stylistic departure from his earlier works.
For one, the dense, syncopated textures from his previous albums have given way to a significantly more laid-back and monorhythmic feel. No doubt Harrison felt a simpler, pop-oriented approach would seem less self-conscious than his tense, meticulous early material. Tension, however, has always been an important quality in Jerry Harrison 's music.
Without it, his songs suffer here, as listenable but vaguely unremarkable tunes.May 27, · Jerry Harrison: Casual Gods -Walk On Water -Sire "Walk on Water" is the third solo album by Talking Heads keyboardist/guitarist Jerry Harrison. If you like Talking Heads and/or The Modern Lovers, you will not surprisingly find many similarities in style from the very underrated Jerry Harrison and his band [All tracks @ Kbps: File size = Mb].