The "Influential Records" Game Addenda, Part 5 (The Live Record Thing)

I feel, looking back, that my tendency to buy live records as a large part of my collection must have had a huge influence on me becoming a performing musician. One thing I have noticed about live records is that, unlike many studio recordings, live sets tend to focus on stronger, more immediate material, so there seems to be less “filler”. Also, listening to live records made me intent on attending, and eventually performing my own, live events. They just felt more exciting! I could imagine myself pulling off solos and moves, getting out there and entertaining, long before I knew what I was doing. It felt inevitable that I would be a part of that world. And then I was. So what follows are a selected group of early live records that left their mark.

Number one is the album that made me a performer: Leon Live by Leon Russell. I was already learning piano tunes from the live Elton John record 11-17-70 (see “addenda, part 2”), but I only played them at home by myself. I was also playing blues tunes that I picked up from Allman Brothers At Fillmore East (yeah, another live record). I was an outcast at high school, having moved back to Ft Worth in middle school, and the kids at church treated me like I was invisible. But then I overheard the tougher kids at church regularly singing and referring to Leon Live during their cigarette breaks. So I got it and started teaching myself some of the tunes from it. I remember sitting down in an empty meeting room at church one afternoon and trying out a few of the tunes on the piano there; some of the tough kids wandered in to see who was playing their favorite record. I can’t really say I was accepted on the spot, but I became a sort of “mascot”, a peripheral member of their bunch, and that started me on my way as a performer. I had altered my status by taking a risk and performing for people. I took that lesson and gradually changed my acceptance at school and, while not becoming popular, at least became notorious as the art freak. Leon taught me how to build and pace a set of material, how to create tension and release, how to move from one song to the next with a purposeful sense of timing. After all, they didn’t call him “The Master Of Space And Time” for nothing!

Live record two is The Who Live At Leeds. I got this one through my record club membership; it came with the “Maximum R&B” poster, the photo of Townsend facing a festival crowd while airborne, the smoke bomb receipts and rejection letters. I must have owned one of the first 500, because I remember mine also coming with a copy of their Woodstock contract (sadly, the record was stolen along with all my vinyl at the time from my brother’s home by junkies years ago). Anyway, I learned how to create power in a live event from this record. The killer guitar tone, the mad pounding, the tight setlist (at least the edited version on this record). Also the simplified guitar soloing, and the fearlessness of the sonic exploration during the extended jam in “My Generation”. I continued to listen to this LP regularly for reference all the way through the punk rock period. This one, and Leon Live, could have easily been in my top ten.

Next, I would like to pay homage once again to my mentor during my sophomore year of college. He owned several bootlegs in his thousands of records, and the one that still sticks with me was the bootleg of the final Spiders From Mars concert, His Master’s Voice. I specifically remember the encore, right after Bowie has announced to the audience (and the band) that this would be their final show, when he brings out Jeff Beck to play “The Jean Genie”. I seem to remember one side starting with a long walk down a hallway, then the unlocking of several locks and latches, before opening the door and being onstage with Bowie (but that might have been a different bootleg). And of course Mick Ronson was on fire! This LP was going to be my Bowie pick in the top ten list, but since I never owned it myself and only listened to it a few times, I couldn’t honestly say that it had influenced me in the same way that Man Who Sold The World did. But it still was one hell of a live set!

Finally, there’s Zappa. This isn’t my favorite Zappa record, or even my favorite Zappa Live album (that honor would have to go to Bongo Fury, and an honorable mention to Roxy And Elsewhere), but it is notable for the sheer genius of the spontaneous stage drama acted out by Flo and Eddie and the band. A running theme to the show, after the awesome “Mudshark” (complete with “Mudshark arpeggio” and “Mudshark dancing lesson”), is a play about famous rock stars picking up groupies after the show. At one point, one of the groupies asks, “do you like my new car?” And the “rock star” replies, “oh yeah, it’s a Fillmore, isn’t it? I dig the fins.” Amazing. You can’t do that on stage anymore, but you can try!