Rock and Roll Redux: Memories of Chicago Bands, Two Buck Covers and Quarter Beers

By Edward M. Bury, APR, MA (aka The PRDude)

During these (fill in the blank with your favorite adjective) times, many pass time by completing a 1,000-piece puzzle, binge-watching six seasons of a program offered on one of the premium channels or diverting attention to the past.

Me? Well, we have a nice puzzle, but I haven’t started it yet. As for television, I watch enough already, but I have found reruns and current episodes of Law & Order: Special Victims Unit provide a welcomed 60-minute escape before the 10 p.m. evening news.

Ah, the Thirsty Whale. Can’t fathom how many times I visited this cavernous club. There’s a combination gas station and McDonald’s on the site now.

And like many, I find ways to escape to a different time, specifically, the 1980s when I employed my passion for rock and roll and ability to write to take part in the vibrant Chicago rock community.

For around a dozen years, I was a regular contributor to the Illinois Entertainer, a free monthly that’s still published.

I relive those often raucous, often loud days and nights by reading posts, listening to music by local artists found on YouTube and scanning print ads from the scores of now-gone music venues that appear on the Chicago Bar Bands 1975 Through 1982 Facebook public group.

The group name is a bit of a misnomer, as many of the acts covered on the site gigged through the end of the ’80s decade and beyond. Some are still making noise today.

This was a time when club rock music was dominated by bands with big hair, big guitar sounds from big amps and big dreams.  It was an era defined by a musical gumbo of post punk, metal, New Wave and other less discernible genres. To be part of this scene came cheap: Two dollar (perhaps three or four on weekends) cover charges and week night specials featuring quarter beers.

And, I was part of it — visiting clubs, conducting interviews backstage, writing record reviews — in essence being a cog of sorts in a scene that’s mostly gone.

Contributors to the just-mentioned Facebook group, specifically Illinois Entertainer founder and former publisher Ken Voss,add nuggets of history on artists and bands that may largely be forgotten had the information not be shared digitally. Display ads, like the one shown above, capture the depth and breadth of the local live 1980’s club scene, one that’s, of course, now much diminished.

On occasion, I’ll add a Facebook comment regarding shows I remember or the acts I covered.  (For the record, I was the de facto metal correspondent for a while; surprisingly, my hearing is intact.)  My huge binder of print clips was tossed prior to a move years ago, however I still have the October 1989 issue of IE featuring a cover story I wrote on the still vital band Enuff Znuff.

Stepping back three-plus decades to revel in an era of Chicago rock and roll allows me to press the pause button on the fears and confusion that dominates our world today — even if it’s just for a few minutes.

Two buck cover charges and quarter beers assuredly won’t return. But when the fallout from the pandemic, economic meltdown and unrest is gone, perhaps live rock and roll played in small clubs will return, and hopefully provide new memories to savor.

 

 

 

 

A Question Posed in a Song Written a Long Time Ago

By Edward M. Bury, APR (aka The PRDude)

For decades, music has been a big part of my life.

I’ve played guitar and sung (arguably with relative competence) for some 50 years, at home, with the band Love House and during music classes.

For more than a dozen years, I contributed articles and reviews to music-based publications, most notably the Illinois Entertainer.

And, I’ve composed my own music.

Starting in the 1980s, I’ve written lots of rock, pop and blues songs, some 70 that I still have lyrics to and can remember the melody line.

The lyrics to the song within this post is especially poignant today.

Yes, I still love rock and roll and all that goes with it — the freedom, the expression, the emotions. But over the years, my personal musical pallet has embraced bluegrass, Western swing, jazz and even classical.  (Still can’t grasp opera, but can appreciate the work and talent involved.)

“Will I Still Be Rockin’ at 63” was written in 1985 or thereabouts.  I probably recorded this composition with my now-gone but well-used Tascam Portastudio, a marvel in audio engineering at the time, as it allowed unschooled enthusiasts like me a platform to record voice, guitar, drums and keyboards on a multiple track cassette tape machine, then mix the sounds to two-track.

In those days, arranging and recording songs in my apartment on Chicago’s northwest side, I felt akin to Todd Rundgren. It was just me, my instruments and gear, and my music.

Back in day, I first scribbled the lyrics to a song on a yellow legal pad or sheet of paper, then typed out the final version on my then trusty Smith Corona manual. These days, I still initially scribble lyrics to songs on paper. For some reason, I kept both the original handwritten and printed versions of this song.

 

Copyright, Edward M. Bury, August 2018.

As for the melody to this composition, perhaps I’ll record it the modern way — digitally of course — and post on my YouTube channel.

As for the question posed in the song, I guess I have 364 more days to determine the answer.

Japan & Other Stuff, Random Thoughts on a Friday

By Edward M. Bury, APR, aka the PR Dude

Here are three thoughts on a Friday evening.  The first attempts to put some perspective on a story that has kept the world riveted for a week.  The second poses some questions I’d like answered, but may never learn “who or why.”  The third is just an observation on something that has helped define and shape modern society; and me, too.

Earthquake. Tsunami. Fallout. Since the earthquake and tsunami, then the resulting nuclear reactor meltdowns, ravaged Japan a week ago today, I’ve spent many waking hour trying to put the past seven days into some sort of perspective. Like any sane, rational human being, my heart goes out to the Japanese people. The images of devastation are surreal, awe-inspiring and heartbreaking.  How could an act of nature (or God, based on your beliefs) cause so much destruction so quickly?  How could one of the most advanced, well-prepared nations on earth be virtually powerless to quickly cool down  damaged nuclear reactors?

From an almost simplistic point of view, I wonder what role public relations and communications can do to help Japan and its people.  In January 2010, when the earth shook, left ruin and brought death and misery to a poor nation like Haiti, I wrote a post offering some suggestions on the power behind public relations to bring awareness to Haiti’s tragedy.  I don’t think we need to take that step with what’s taking place in Japan today.

Words and pictures will define the Japan earthquake years and generations from now.  I offer this word: Apocalyptic.  From the thousands of images, still and video, taken these past seven days, this one grabbed me by the lapels:

A rescue worker musters a smile while holding an infant.

It shows hope and humanity.

Japan rebuilt itself into a global powerhouse after the crushing defeat in World War II. It will rebuild again, hopefully better and smarter regarding nuclear energy and coastal development.  If you want to help Japan, follow this link.  As I write this, the nation is being hit with after-shocks registering 5.9.

Those Lurkers on LinkedIn. From the “anonymous LinkedIn user” to “someone at Acme Industries,” I wonder who purposefully reviews my profile on LinkedIn.  For the record, I have a very robust profile, with 383 connections, 30 recommendations and much business and educational content. I’m a member of 18 groups, and I manage two.  The PRDude blog is included in the applications on my profile, and I regularly post updates and questions, and make my thoughts known.

Sometimes, my profile is opened five or six times a day. So, to all who visit the LinkedIn version of Edward M. Bury: What do you want?  Drop me an email.  I just want to know who you are.

It Use to be More Than Just Rock and Roll. This news item caught my eye (and ear, I guess) today: Bob Geldof, he of the Irish band the Boomtown Rats and driving force behind the Live Aid humanitarian music concerts in 1985, issued this manifesto as the keynote speaker at the South By Southwest music/film/technology summit in Austin:

“Rock ‘n’ roll needs to be against something. It can’t just BE,” he said.

Furthermore:  “There will always be great songs that don’t suggest anything other than being a great song. But where are our Ramones or our Pistols today?”

Must say, I agree with Geldof. There’s been some tremendous new music the past several years — at least when talking sharps and flats. But what the heck are any of the true rock and rollers of today singing about?

In the past half-decade, we’ve gone from an economy that seemingly was on an unending upward projection to one of high unemployment, out-of-control government debt and spending and sagging real estate values.  Oh yeah: Polls reveal most Americans aren’t too happy or optimistic about the future.

Who’s writing songs that address these subjects?  (Well, besides U2 sometimes.)  Who’s writing songs that capture these tumultuous times?  Who’s writing songs of anger?  Songs of hope?

Born in the 1950s, I came of age in the 1960s.  Songs from my early years still resonate and inspire emotion today.  Is anyone writing this kind of stuff today?