Re: USCHO Music Thread 4: Songs She Sang to Me, Songs She Brang to Me
Let's say they grew apart. I really liked the dynamic tension of DLR and EVH and I think it prevented them from becoming just another dumb pop band (DLR wins) or another smart but fungible High Guitar band (EVH wins).
Great bands have an internal tug of war which is fought out in their music as much as their hotel rooms. So, Daltrey and Townshend fight for a decade and produce works of genius, then Daltrey gets distracted and tired and Townshend wins and the band produces car commercial pablum. Gabriel and Collins keep each other from turning Genesis into either Brian Eno drops acid naked in the forest with his pet albino giraffe or a poppy 16th birthday party band, then Gabriel leaves and Collins turns them into the latter. Waters' runaway ego is kept in check by the entire massed weight of the other members of Floyd until he finally triumphs, and Floyd turns into the equivalent of a navel-gazing angst blog. Mick and Keith careen off each other with actual blows (and blows) until they are both so tired and beaten up that the Stones become an assisted living facility in the mid-70s and have drooled along ever since. And Brian Wilson I guess had that internal conflict inside his own messed up head.
At best a band has a ten year sweet spot until something happens that extinguishes that fire, and then all that's left is tiresome platinum records running on marketing momentum and public indifference to originality.
Originally posted by FadeToBlack&Gold
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Great bands have an internal tug of war which is fought out in their music as much as their hotel rooms. So, Daltrey and Townshend fight for a decade and produce works of genius, then Daltrey gets distracted and tired and Townshend wins and the band produces car commercial pablum. Gabriel and Collins keep each other from turning Genesis into either Brian Eno drops acid naked in the forest with his pet albino giraffe or a poppy 16th birthday party band, then Gabriel leaves and Collins turns them into the latter. Waters' runaway ego is kept in check by the entire massed weight of the other members of Floyd until he finally triumphs, and Floyd turns into the equivalent of a navel-gazing angst blog. Mick and Keith careen off each other with actual blows (and blows) until they are both so tired and beaten up that the Stones become an assisted living facility in the mid-70s and have drooled along ever since. And Brian Wilson I guess had that internal conflict inside his own messed up head.
At best a band has a ten year sweet spot until something happens that extinguishes that fire, and then all that's left is tiresome platinum records running on marketing momentum and public indifference to originality.
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