Steppenwolf, A Band With Meaning.

It is no secret that I am old. I have a blog on aging, a great blog, on aging successfully, that you should be reading, and enjoying, and sharing with your friends, because lets face it, you guys are not getting any younger, which is fine, because I am here to guide you through the mine field of aging. But, that is not what we are here to talk about today.

It is also no secret that I like old music. Music that many may think predates even me. Music from the sixties and early seventies, music that was pointed, radical, and filled with the angst of the day. I have never been able to shake my appreciation for the pioneers of rock and roll. Trail blazers who used music to tackle injustice, hypocrisy, and the established institutions they felt promoted the horrors of the time.

While my friends bought Aerosmith, REO Speedwagon, and the Doobie Brothers, I was lost in Credence Clearwater Revival, The Grateful Dead, and the band that really epitomized the feeling, to me, Steppenwolf.

In their songs they tackled war, government, corporate greed, religion, everything that the established order held to be of value. It was a scorched earth musical tour through a decade of anger, mistrust, and confronting what they saw as a systemic abuse of power.

Even today the music moves me to think "things could be better if people paid attention," Most people can tell you about listening to "Born to be Wild," and a few old heads can talk at length about "Monster," but the anger, and despair went much farther.

"You fill this house with things of gold,
While handing crumbs to the old and poor
Then you preach about being pure
And wonder why we're laughing." *

It was confrontation with a musical accompaniment, it was art with an edge. It was more than music, it was life.

"You've been telling lies so long,
Some believe they're true,
So they close there eyes to things
You have no right to do."**

But, as is the always the case with humanity, people lost interest in fighting the power. And Steppenwolf was a victim of their own success. There was still plenty to be angry about, but there weren't enough people willing to take up the cause.

The music was so sixties, so trippy it was beautiful and mesmerizing by itself.  There was so much going on so often. And there were the songs that were fun, and funny. In all they were just a band with good music, who got caught up in the day, the movement. In a way that may never happen again.

I still listen and identify with the anger John Kay could muster, but have long ago abandoned any hope for real progress. So, I drink to your health, and I listen to your music, and I applaud your courage and audacity. And lord knows the world needs those qualities today.


 * From Here to There Eventually.


** Don't Step on the Grass, Sam.

Music as Motivation, and A Chance to Dream (Re-purposed, By Life Explained. (very green, don't you think?))

Last weekend my son asked a question about the government, and a perfect opportunity for education was born.  He needs to understand the obtrusive, controlling interference that has been the overriding purpose of governments throughout history.

Sure, they provide roads, waste removal, national security, and parks and recreational opportunities, plus education, and assistance in many facets of research and development, but that is just a front, a method to cover the real purpose. The manipulation and control of the lives of it's citizenry. Who better to explain this than John Kay of Steppenwolf, (he is from Canada, the largest, and most successful, state in the US, I think it is somewhere around Montana)?.  And what better vehicle than the lyrics from "The Ostrich"?

"You're free to speak your mind, my friend,
As long as you agree with me,
Don't criticize the Fatherland,
Or those who shape your destiny,
'Cause if you do, you'll lose your mind, your job and all the friends you knew,
We'll send out all our boys in blue,
And they'll find a way to silence you."


Oh, the nostalgia, the memories, troubadours of defiance, artists against the "establishment."  Leaping quickly to action, I had a cup of coffee and thought about some cool songs. By Wednesday evening, I had assembled a play list of anger, and disillusionment selectively going between Amazon and iTunes to fill in the gaps in my collection, judiciously using whichever was less expensive. Thursday morning it was ready, the turning of the page, the dawning of a new age.


Here is the list (you know, sometimes lists are useful and can be very cool);

All loaded and ready to roll, it was a great drive to work.  I got out in the parking lot, and thought, "I'm through toilin' for the MAN.  It is time to take a stand against tyranny, injustice, it is time to stand up and be the voice of those that can not be heard."  Fuming, angry, intolerant, life was going to start playing by my rules, answering to me.

Then, daylight came and slapped me in the face, "you have a mortgage, a car payment, an HMO and a retirement plan, plus your son is headed for college. And, don't forget, the Klondike Bars in the freezer at home."  Revolution will have to wait,"  Reality said.  Curse you reality, curse your love affair with cold, hard, remorseless facts, and curse your flawless refrigerator inventory technique.

Oh well, change is difficult, and I probably don't have the stomach for insurgency, anyway.  Remember, though, good music should speak to you in powerful, wonderful ways, art should always make you dream.  Everybody should be allowed to feel like a revolutionary once in a while, but, the dishwasher still needs emptied and somebody has to make the first pot of coffee, so off I go, smiling, happy about the beautiful weather, and delighted there is only one more day until the weekend.

Tomorrow on the way to work, "Ghost Riders in the Sky" by Johnny Cash, "Cheyenne" by the Del Lords  and "My Heroes Have Always Been Cowboys" by Willie Nelson,  I hope I can find some boots, a hat and a lariat, because I will be ready to ride the range.