Author: Chris Capelle

It goes something like this – you like a band, you buy their albums, and when they hit your city, you buy tickets to the big rock show. They come out and play their songs, the fans go crazy, the band gets paid, everybody goes home happy. That’s how it works 99.9% of the time. Once in a while, there is a concert that is somehow emotional. That’s because something happens with the band, there’s something that happens that reminds us rock stars are only human, and they’re all susceptible to the same problems all of us face. So, it’s nice to see when they overcome their problems.

Cheap Trick
July 29, 1988
Madison Square Garden
New York, NY

Background: Nobody worked harder to get to the top than Cheap Trick. Between 1974 and 1978, the band scratched out a cult following, playing every dive and special guest slot nationwide. Finally, it all came together following a fluke of a live album, and then it was time to put the bow on in. Headlining arena shows by 1980, the band headed into the studio with the holy grail of rock producers, George Martin. Time to become all-time legends.

But things weren’t all rosy in the inner sanctum. Bassist Tom Petersson was burning out, being pulled one way by his wife and losing interest in being one of the cogs in the Cheap Trick machine. So, in August 1980, he dropped out, right on the eve of the release of the Martin-produced All Shook Up.

Although he was quickly replaced on tour by doppelgänger Pete Comita, the damage was done. Like KISS (and unlike Supertramp), Cheap Trick was a “personality” band – meaning the loss of one member was a body blow that would be hard to recover from. See, fans are funny about stuff like this; they feel if the members of the band don’t care, why should they? So, All Shook Up didn’t live up to its predecessors both artistically or commercially, and the next four albums did little to heal that wound. By the time late 1986’s The Doctor was released, did anybody care anymore? Cheap Trick was a relic of the pre-MTV era of rock.

By 1988, any bad feelings between Petersson and the other members of Cheap Trick had dissipated – and suddenly the original quartet was back together. For better or worse, record company politics force fed the band a boatload of material, relegating chief songwriter Rick Nielsen to the minority position. But out of the wind and fury, the band did manage to start having hits again, most notably “The Flame,” a somewhat generic ballad that hit #1 on the singles chart the same month as the concert, which saw the band opening for Robert Plant, who suddenly remembered he used to be in a band called Led Zeppelin. 

Why it was emotional: Because everybody loves an against all odds comeback, to paraphrase Phil Collins. The band delivered a tight 11-song set, mixing classics with three of the new songs. Starting the set with 1980’s “Just Got Back” was a great way to start things off. And things only got better after that.

Setlist:

• Just Got Back
• On Top of the World
• Let Go
• Dream Police
• Don’t Be Cruel
• She’s Tight
• I Know What I Want
• California Man
• The Flame
• I Want You to Want Me
• Surrender

Rush
June 28, 2002
Meadows Music Theatre
Hartford, CT

Background: Rush had been an arena-filling band since 1981’s Moving Pictures hit the stores in 1981, and the band worked pretty steadily since then, doing the album/tour treadmill thing. Finally, after the 1996-1997 Test For Echo tour campaign ended, tragedy struck drummer Neil Peart. First, his daughter was killed in a car accident, and less than a year later, his wife died of cancer. Following these tragedies, he announced “consider me retired” to his bandmates.

It took five years before the world saw another Rush album. 2002’s Vapor Trails was a departure sonically, a dense soundscape that featured neither keyboards or guitar solos. In addition, its “loud” (aka over compressed) sound angered fans, similar to Metallica’s 2003 release, St. Anger.

In 2013, a remixed version of Vapor Trails was released.

Why it was emotional: For years, it looked like the end of the road for Rush. There was no movement inside the tent, only a solo release from each of the other two members and a live album, that par for the course of the sequence of the band’s usual practice of four studio/one live album. In addition, The Who’s bassist John Entwistle had died earlier in the week. And since it was first night of tour, everybody in attendance (both on and off the stage) knew what a big this show was.

Setlist:

Set 1:

• Tom Sawyer
• Distant Early Warning
• New World Man
• Roll the Bones
• Earthshine
• YYZ
• The Pass
• Bravado
• The Big Money
• Between Sun and Moon
• Vital Signs
• Natural Science

Set 2:

• One Little Victory
• Driven
• Ceiling Unlimited
• Secret Touch
• Dreamline
• Red Sector A
• Leave That Thing Alone
• Drum Solo
• Resist
• 2112 Part I: Overture
• 2112 Part II: The Temples of Syrinx
• Limelight
• La Villa Strangiato
• The Spirit of Radio

Encore:

• By-Tor & The Snow Dog
• Cygnus X-1 (Prologue)
• Working Man

The Rolling Stones
August 1, 2019
MetLife Stadium
East Rutherford, NJ

Background: The Rolling Stones have been around since 1962 – and spent the rest of the 20^th century releasing albums and touring. But by 2002, things slowed down. Longer gaps between albums and tours. After 1997, only one more album of original is issued (2005’s A Bigger Bang) and a blues cover album (2016’s Blue & Lonesome.) Three career-spanning greatest hits albums are released, not to mention a handful of live albums, both current and “from the vaults.”

After ignoring the northeast (for the most part) since 2006, The Stones finally scheduled two shows at New Jersey’s MetLife Stadium. (It had been so long since the last appearance in New Jersey, that the old venue – Giants Stadium – had been razed and the new stadium built.) Suddenly, there was a health crisis in the band.

Of course, everybody pointed their fingers at guitarist Keith Richards, as he was voted “most likely to croak” in the band. But amazingly, it was lean and fit Mick Jagger that was the one who needed medical help. Turns out he had a defective heart valve, and replacement surgery was able to correct things.

Why it was emotional: For years, we’ve all thought that any minute it could all be over for The Rolling Stones. While their best years are obviously behind them, they put on a smoking, two-hour show at MetLife, with the band as energetic as they were in 1981, the first time I saw them.

In addition, I suddenly found myself single at the date of the concert. Solution: Invite a woman I met on eHarmony to the concert. I never met her until we walked in the gates of the stadium together. A splendid time was had by all! Hear all about about my date here!

Setlist:

• Street Fighting Man
• Let’s Spend the Night Together
• Tumbling Dice
• She’s a Rainbow
• You Can’t Always Get What You Want
• Sweet Virginia
• Dead Flowers
• Sympathy for the Devil
• Honky Tonk Women
• Slipping Away
• Before They Make Me Run
• Miss You
• Paint It Black
• Midnight Rambler
• Start Me Up
• Jumpin’ Jack Flash
• Brown Sugar

Encore:

• Gimme Shelter
• (I Can’t Get No) Satisfaction

One thing that most people tend to forget – that the second word in the phrase “music business” is BUSINESS. Artists are often accused of being “too commercial,” like being successful is a bad thing.

Sure, there’s always heaps of pressure to deliver a hit –  whether it’s from yourself (remember Michael Jackson and his note to self on the mirror after Thriller?), or the record company that pumped a lot of $$$ into you, your A&R man (not a lot of women in that position – so I call it like I see it) also has to answer to a suit, your booking agent is rooting for you because the more success you have at retail and radio (two ancient terms that once meant something), the more tickets you’ll sell at your local concert hall. And concert attendees buy drinks, T-shirts and pay for parking. A lot of responsibility in that trickle-down chain, right?

Some artists (say, Nirvana) have a hit album and then wish they didn’t, judging by the follow-up, some (Oasis) try too hard and fall flat, and yet others (read on!), go all out for the hit singles. Oddly enough, despite the commercial heights these songs reached, none of the singles are considered among the best that the artist released. Also note that all these releases came after MTV officially jumped the shark, which was around the end of 1985. And sharp-eyed and eared readers will notice by the time the fourth video came along, things pretty much were in the toilet as far as good tunes go. But then again, all of these albums topped the charts.

Huey Lewis & The News – Fore! (1986)

Top ten singles: Five

• Stuck With You (#1)
• Hip To Be Square (#3)
• Jacob’s Ladder (#1)
• I Know What I Like (#9)
• Doin’ It All For My Baby (#6)

Huey Lewis & The News were a likable bunch of all-American guys. They had all been around the block a few times – Huey was actually 30 when the band’s debut dropped in 1980. A second, moderately successful album (Picture This) followed in 1982, and the mega-hit Sports hit the airwaves in late 1983.

Sports wasn’t just a hit album – it was a monster,  keeping pace with that year’s big boys, Bruce Springsteen and Prince. Hit single after hit single came and went, and just when things couldn’t get any better, a #1 soundtrack song, “The Power of Love” from Back To The Future, became the summer hit of 1985.

Then, of course, comes the dreaded moment when a follow-up album is required. No pressure. So Huey and the boys recorded Fore!, a hit-filled juggernaut that went straight to the top of the charts. (As did two of its singles.) The verdict? A Picture This/Sports light – plenty of hits and hooks, but lacking some of the bite of earlier work. There were no dark moments like the ones the band had previously recorded (such as “The Only One” or “Walking on a Thin Line”).  It didn’t seem like the band was going for hits – it was just the way things worked out. A bunch of high-profile videos didn’t hurt the project either. Problem is, that the last couple of singles were so lame, that even Richard Marx would’ve laughed at them.

What happened next:

The band’s fifth album, the overly-ambitious Small World, was released in 1988, and contained only one top ten hit, “Perfect World.” The band’s winning streak ended there and then. One more album of new material by the original lineup followed, 1991’s Hard At Play) before the band descended into the abyss of recording oldies albums, lineup changes and playing dumpier and dumpier dives.

Fun fact: Huey Lewis played harmonica on Thin Lizzy’s Live & Dangerous album.

Self-serving fact: I attended the May 1, 1987 Huey Lewis & The News concert in Hartford, CT.

Bon Jovi – New Jersey (1988)

Top ten singles: Five

• Bad Medicine (#1)
• Born To Be My Baby (#3)
• I’ll Be There For You (#1)
• Lay Your Hands On Me (#7)
• Living in Sin (#9)

Bon Jovi gained a following from the word go. Its 1984 debut single “Runaway” became a moderate radio and MTV favorite, and the band’s first two albums Bon Jovi and 7800º Fahrenheit – (I didn’t even know these clowns could spell Fahrenheit) were kind of cult favorites for the “metal light” crowd.   

But all that changed in 1986: Slippery When Wet was released and the singles and videos launched “chick metal” into the world. (Yes, Def Leppard treaded that path a few years earlier, but at they kept their street cred and it wasn’t wrong for a guy to like them.) Now BJ was all over the place – they had a profound effect on radio, video and culture at large. Not many can claim that.

But of all the acts listed here, Bon Jovi went for “if it worked last time, it’ll work this time!) – see how “Bad Medicine” was “You Give Love A Bad Name” junior. Same with “Born To Be My Baby” & “Livin’ On A Prayer.” They also went for “if some is good, more is better!” (hence the blog title) as far as singles go – there were three last time, let’s go for more this time!

And so it worked. But we’ve all seen the Behind the Music where the band got burned out after a long tour.

What happened next:

The band scattered, solo records were released and who the hell knew what the future held. But they did get back together, in height of the grunge era, and recorded a darker (and far better) album, Keep The Faith. The singles weren’t as plentiful, but, by that late date, the era of the hit album/single/video/tour was over and the band tours more on its legacy status than due to any new material. A couple of members have jumped ship, but the band is still out there, cranking out the hits live.

Fun fact: “Runaway” was originally recorded in 1982.

Self-serving fact: I attended the Bon Jovi/Billy Squier/Skid Row concert at Giant’s Stadium on June 11, 1989.

Phil Collins – …But Seriously (1989)

Top ten singles: Four

• Another Day in Paradise (#1)
• I Wish it Would Rain Down (#3)
• Something Happened On The Way To Heaven (#4)
• Do You Remember? (#4)

Plus:

• Hang in Long Enough (#23) – FLOP!

Phil Collins – the largest selling male pop artist of the 1980s, right? Yup. Due to his work as drummer slash vocalist of Genesis, his solo career, his production efforts (Eric Clapton, Frida, Phillip Bailey, etc.,) together, and it was no wonder this guy could afford three very expensive divorces.

Actually, I could’ve used Genesis in this list, as the Invisible Touch album boasted five hit singles, and the band’s next album (We Can’t Dance) was definitely darker and less commercial. But poor old Phil suffered sort of a nervous breakdown at that point, cheated on wife #2 and left the old boys in the band to their own devices.

But back to Phil! Like Huey and Bon, Phil caught fire with his third album (No Jacket Required) and the singles and videos were all over the place, not to mention his album sitting at the top of the charts in the era of Madonna, Prince and Bruce. Like Huey, Phil comes across as a nice guy. (Word on the street is that Jon Bon Jovi is an asshole.) There is something likable with him, and so you root for them to succeed.

So unlike the other two, Phil had the little task of writing, recording and touring a Genesis album before getting back to his solo career. That album, Invisible Touch, was the top of the mountain for Genesis, racking up multiple hit singles and sold-out stadium shows. Then, after that tour was over with, he acted in a movie. Oh yeah, lobbed another two quick hits to #1 from the aforementioned flick.

But Phil, perhaps wanting to shed his “nice Mr. Everyguy” image, wrote about homelessness for his first single off of …But Seriously. (Hence the clever title.) It was the post Live Aid/Band Aid/U.S.A. For Africa era, so making a social statement seemed like the thing to do. And, like the other two acts listed here, the singles seemed on the “light” side – none of the edginess of his earlier work.

What happened next:

Our boy first released a live CD in late 1990. Then he went back to Genesis to record and tour the We Can’t Dance (1991) album. He became overwhelmed at the entire machine of it all, had an affair, wrecked his marriage. Recorded studio album #5 (Both Sides of the Story) and ended up quitting Genesis in 1996. Read his autobiography Not Dead Yet to learn the “other side of the story.”

Fun fact: …But Seriously was the only rock album chart topper in a long drought for rock albums in 1989-1991. Thanks, Milli Vanilli!

Self-serving fact: I had tickets for a Phil Collins concert in New Jersey on this tour – and it was one of the few shows postponed shows.

Let’s go back to the mid/late 1970s: Rock and roll bands are big business. Arenas are filled with “youts” seeing their favorite bands for $7.50 a pop. An umbrella of marijuana haze hangs over the room.  Firecrackers are thrown, kids are puking up the Southern Comfort they smuggled in. Life is good.

But who is playing on the big stage? Bands of that era are full of guys with long dark hair and moustaches. While parents are complaining that all these bands sound alike (wrong), they always fail to bring up the argument (and win!) that they all DO look alike. Would an audience notice if Boston’s Barry Goudreau subed on stage for BOC’s Buck Dharma? (Or vice versa?) What if Jefferson Starship’s Mickey Thomas crooned “Africa” fronting Toto while Bobby Kimball was in Betty Ford? Would the arena erupt in violence? Doubtful. Highly doubtful.

So here you go – four dudes, four bands. Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to match the moustache with the band. Good luck.

Band: Blue Öyster Cult
Signature Hit: (Don’t Fear) The Reaper
Member: Buck Dharma
Fun Fact: Buck’s real name is Donald Bruce Roeser
What He Doesn’t Want You To Know: Dharma tops out at a petite 5’ 2”

Long considered “the thinking man’s rock band,” Blue Öyster Cult (or simply BOC) had a long and storied past before their debut album dropped in 1972. After which, the band slugged it out on the early/mid 1970s hard rock circuit until, like many others (KISS, Cheap Trick, Bob Seger, Frampton, Rush, REO Speedwagon, et al.) a live album (1975’s On Your Feet or On Your Knees) brought them to mainstream prominence.

Of course, when it came time for the studio follow-up, a classic was required, just as BOC’s contemporaries were doing: KISS had Destroyer, Seger had Night Moves and Rush released A Farewell To Kings. BOC came through with its most-beloved LP, Agents Of Fortune. The album contained the Dharma-penned and sung “(Don’t Fear) The Reaper”. It became BOC’s highest-charting hit (#12) and a rock radio staple that is still played like it’s 1976 all over again. And finally, it gave Saturday Night Live its last relevant cultural moment with the “More Cowbell” skit.  

Downside: Dharma and fellow BOC co-founder Eric Bloom still tour with a version of the band today.

Band: Jefferson Starship
Signature Hit: Jane
Member: Mickey Thomas
Fun Fact: Thomas was lead vocalist on Elvin Bishop’s “Fooled Around and Fell in Love”
What He Doesn’t Want You To Know: He got his ass kicked by his Starship bandmate, drummer Donnie Baldwin, in a post-gig barroom fight in 1989

Jefferson Starship was the 1970s successor to Jefferson Airplane, one of the most revered bands of the late 1960s counterculture. While the Airplane had everything that hippies wanted in a band (San Francisco! Woodstock and Altamont! Songs about drugs!), the Jefferson Starship (not to be confused with its follow-up band Starship), played it safe, churning out rather pedestrian AOR music.

While members came and went (and went and came), there was a point when the only Airplane member was the crabby old hippie, Paul Kantner, as Grace Slick was tied up in rehab and Marty Balin handed in his notice. With no relations (bar Kantner) tying them to the past, the band morphed more and more into a “corporate rock” act, until Kantner left the party, taking “Jefferson” with him and the rest of the guys (and girl) became Starship, which is a story for another time…

Downside: “Jane’s” descendants include Aldo Nova’s “Fantasy” and Bon Jovi’s “Runaway.”

Band: Toto
Signature Hit: Africa
Member: Bobby Kimball
Fun Fact: Pre-Toto, he sang for the unsuccessful Three Dog Night spinoff group, S.S. Fools
What He Doesn’t Want You To Know: It’s either Toto’s “Rosanna” or “Africa” video – we report, you decide

Wow, Toto. What can you say about Toto? A group of Foreigner or Journey wannabes? (Not that there’s anything wrong with that.) That they were the most dorky (not to mention pretentious) looking band ever? (Lose the glasses, dudes!) That’s bad enough – but far worse, these guys played on Steely Dan albums. Or even more egregiously, they released a single titled “Georgy Porgy.” (OK, I’ll stop here…)

Although the band hit right out of the land of Oz with “Hold The Line” in 1978, they meandered through the next two albums, and then with Toto IV (Chicago’s lawyers – call your office for copyright infringement), hit their stride with the mega-singles “Rosanna” and “Africa.” After which, these clowns couldn’t hold it together for another album – Kimball was booted for drug use, members started leaving and the band couldn’t get another big hit to save its life. Fake Bobby Kimballs have come and gone, members have croaked and yet the band plays on.

Downside: Toto: Coming to a mid-sized theatre near you!

Band: Boston
Signature Hit: More Than A Feeling
Member: Barry Goudreau
Fun Fact: He was the first band member jettisoned by buzzkill Boston leader, Tom Scholz, following the successful Don’t Look Back album and tour
What He Doesn’t Want You To Know: The band never played a note of music before an audience until after their debut album was released

Ah, 1976. That’s when the best feel-good “stoner dude whose catatonic state doesn’t allow him to notice that his chick has left him in his reverie” song became an all-time rock classic, right? Both Boston’s “More Than a Feeling” and its eponymous debut album became instant hits, and the band went from opening for Black Sabbath to headlining arenas rather quickly.

Unlike the others in this blog post, Barry Goudreau was NOT the vocalist with Boston. (Brad Delp was.) However, Goudreau played lead and rhythm guitar for the band. But one dirty little secret about Boston (the album AND the band): It was mastermind Tom Scholz who played the entire album (except for drums and vocals) and the rest of the band were late-to-the-party hired guns.

Although they all played on Boston’s sophomore album, Don’t Look Back, relationships between Scholz and all members not named Brad Delp soured (for various reasons) soon afterwards, and Goudreau got the boot, mostly because CBS promoted his 1980 solo album as “Almost Boston!” Oops. By the time Boston’s Third Stage album was released in September 1986, Goudreau was a mere footnote in the band’s legacy, along with former bandmates, drummer Sib Hashian (R.I.P.) and bassist Fran Sheehan. Don’t mess with Tom Scholz, he’ll sue anybody.

Downside: Boston’s 1976 debut has sold more than 17 million copies; its latest effort, 2013’s Life, Love & Hope, less than 25,000.

There has always been a lot of emphasis on album cover art – and why not? Visuals are often as an important part of the band’s image as the music contained within. Some album covers have become as iconic as the music (Pink Floyd – Dark Side of the Moon), some far more famous than the music inside (The Velvet Underground & Nico) and some are interesting but make absolutely no sense (Scorpions – Animal Magnetism).

That said, at the risk of sounding like a crabby-ass old hermit, the golden age of classic album art is gone. Sure, album art websites try to convince us to believe that Katy Perry, Amy Winehouse and Lady Gaga album covers rank among the greats; trust me, they don’t. It’s all over but the crying, so let’s visit a few album covers that have some connection to something else. Or not.

Pink Floyd and Cinderella

Actually, the image in question isn’t the cover – it’s found inside the gatefold of the Floyd’s 1975 opus, Wish You Were Here. The front, as we all know, is the man shaking hands with the burning man, taken at a studio lot in California. It was designed by Storm Thorgerson, who along with Aubrey Powell founded Hipgnosis, who created a bunch of covers for quirky British bands – T. Rex, The Nice and UFO – before hitting pay dirt with the aforementioned Pink Floyd, which brought their work into the spotlight. (And then started attracting more mainstream bands – Led Zeppelin, Bad Company and Styx, among others.)

But come back inside to see a small picture of a man diving into a strange-looking body of water without causing ripples. (It was actually a shot of a man performing an underwater handstand.) Though no location was given, the shot took place in California’s Mono Lake, which is inland, quite close to the Nevada border. Mono Lake is in an endorheic basin (that’s for all the geology geeks out there) that produces high levels of salt and alkaline. Its distinctive (and prehistoric-looking) limestone tufa towers are its most iconic feature.

But Floyd’s album isn’t the only time Mono Lake turned up in the rock world; cue 1988, a time when big-hair pop/metal/rock bands roamed the earth. Cinderella’s “Don’t Know What You Got (Till It’s Gone)” (#12 on US Hot 100) used Mono Lake as the backdrop for its video of the song; once again, the tufa towers prominent. Not sure how many viewers recognized the location from their crazy uncle’s vinyl collection.

The Beach Boys and The Carpenters

In America, if you were young and bursting with musical talent in the early/mid 1960s, it seemed that California (particularly Los Angeles) was the place to be. Some were fortunate to be born and raised there (The Beach Boys), while others (The Carpenters) migrated from the much more-dreary city of New Haven, CT. (At least they weren’t from Meriden – a little Connecticut humor for you!) No matter, everybody was out there having fun, in the warm California sun.

Although they weren’t the first to combine surfing and rock, The Beach Boys got the nation amped on the idea of riding some tasty waves. (Even though drummer Dennis Wilson was the only member who actually hung ten.) Therefore, it was a natural that their album covers would feature America’s band with surfboards and a woodie. (Take your mind out of the gutter – according to the lord of knowledge – Wikipedia – a woodie is a car body style with rear bodywork constructed of wood framework with infill wood panels.) So, it makes all the sense in the world that cover of The Beach Boys debut album (called LPs in those days), Surfin’ Safari, was taken in a hot surfing spot, Paradise Cove.

In 1970, when pop duo The Carpenters were recording their sophomore effort, Close to You, a quick cover shot was required. It was so rushed, that in fact, the band had to get back to the recording studio that night to continue recording the album named after its #1 hit title track. Quick fix – they took a jaunt down to Lunada Bay (close to Paradise Cove – though maybe not by L.A. standards) for the cover shot for the duo’s first hit album. Oddly enough, they didn’t look worse for the wear considering they traversed the rugged the trail down to the water.

Lunada Bay was also in the news this decade: Its notorious local “surf gang” claimed exclusive use of its legendary waves, keeping outsiders out by threats and intimidation: Throwing rocks at interlopers, slashing the tires of outsiders and ganging up on those who did manage to get their boards in the water. The battle rages on.

Chicago and Wilco (with a little help from Sly and the Family Stone thrown in for good measure)

A Chicago landmark has been used by two bands – Chicago and Wilco. Aside from that fact that both bands were formed in The Windy City, there is little else they have in common. Wilco, the Jeff Tweety-fronted band, formed from the ashes of an early critical favorite (but commercially unsuccessful) band, the alt-country (the fact that I’m even typing “alt-country” makes me sound like a douchebag hipster) Uncle Tupelo (which itself was a product of another failure, The Primitives).  That’s all I can say about Wilco.

OK, another thing Chicago and Wilco have in common – someday Wilco will join their horny homeboys in the vaunted Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. That’s because Wilco is a critic’s wet dream – especially in light of their Yankee Foxtrot Hotel tale. (Google it, please.) That said, they are the absolute dreariest band ever – they make Radiohead (another critic’s darling) sound like Slayer.

Whatever. Anyway, the cover of the aforementioned YHF album features the towers of Marina City in Chicago. The same set of towers was used (with artistic liberty) on Chicago’s 13, the band’s, well, 13th album. Thirteen was an unlucky number for Chicago, as it sold poorly and spawning no hit singles. Peter Frampton lookalike Guitarist Donnie Dacus, who had the daunting task of taking over for the late Terry Kath, either quit or was fired after the release of the album. (Chicago’s next album, XIV, was even a bigger flop – so bad that the band got booted off their record label, but that’s a story for another time.)

Bonus fact! The Marina City towers appear in the collage on the back of Sly and the Family Stone’s 1971 album There’s A Riot Goin’ On. Where have you gone, Sylvester?

It’s been a long time since I rock and rolled….

Well, as I was saying, when I was so rudely interrupted, welcome back!

Let’s rewind back to the early/mid 1980s; if you were paying attention to the hard rock and metal scene, a few minor incidents happened with veteran acts, which, on the surface, meant little, but ultimately laid the groundwork for a metal “supergroup.” (To use that term loosely.) It all started with the 1982 plane crash that killed Ozzy Osbourne’s wunderkind guitarist, Randy Rhodes. After running through two temps (Bernie “Don’t Call Me Mel” Torme and Night Ranger’s Brad Gillis), the Oz camp finally settled on Jake E. Lee (narrowly beating out George Lynch, later of Dokken fame) as the permanent replacement.

Lee lasted two albums (Bark at the Moon and The Ultimate Sin) and tours; his overall treatment, lopsided contract and firing is well documented. (Google it if you don’t know that long, drawn-out tale.) Wanting a fresh start, Lee looked to put together his own band.

Concurrently, the 1984 resumption of the Mark II version of Deep Purple also played a major role; it forced Black Sabbath’s one-off 1983 lineup of original members Tony Iommi, Geezer Butler and Bill Ward and former (and soon-to-be future) Deep Purple vocalist Ian Gillan to split in March 1984, with Ward and Butler also bailing.

Iommi’s next release, The Seventh Star (1986), featuring vocalist Glenn Hughes, was “forced” into using the Black Sabbath moniker, but there remained the minor task of finding a new band to tour as Sabbath. (Iommi did manage to nick a couple of players from Lita Ford’s band, who happened to be his girlfriend at that time.) Unfortunately, Hughes was sacked a few dates into the tour; local joker Ray Gillen was selected as his replacement. Hiring an unknown vocalist to front a legendary band mid-tour probably wasn’t going to work; needless to say, things broke down quickly. An attempt to have the touring outfit record new material was DOA; all the members went their separate ways, once again, leaving Iommi as the last man standing.

But Gillen got noticed, and soon enough, he (along with ex-tour mate, drummer Eric Singer), signed up with Lee. Rounded out by ex-Steeler (a failed band that launched the careers of Yngwie Malmsteen and Ron Keel) bassist Greg Chaisson, the band was quickly signed to Atlantic and released its debut album in 1989. (Around this time, Mr. Big and Blue Murder, both odds and ends collections of semi-famous rockers, debuted.)

The resulting debut, Badlands, was released mid-1989 and was a moderate success, peaking at #57 on the Billboard Top 200. Critical reviews were good – Rolling Stone magazine eventually ranked it #35 on the list of top hair metal albums of all time. The album, a blusey hard rock disc, quickly became a hit for fans of the genre, as well as a cult favorite.

But from the word go, things went wrong. First, Eric Singer bailed for greener pastures; playing with Alice Cooper, Paul Stanley’s solo band, pre-production sessions for The Cult’s Ceremony album and soon after landing the permanent drummer in KISS. Eventually he put on the makeup and became the fake Peter Criss. Then, of course, by 1990, the type of music embraced by Badlands fans had pretty much had run out of steam; 1991’s follow up was a flop.

So why, as a fan favorite and cult status album put out of print? Wouldn’t a label like Rock Candy or Music for Nations be interested? Why are prices on the used market such as Amazon or eBay sky high?

It’s all because of the reprehensible behavior of singer Ray Gillen. Ray, it seems, at one point, got into some heavy-duty drugs, which is not an aberration for a rock star in the 1980s. (Or any other decade, it seems.) But luck wasn’t on his side, and he contracted HIV, most likely from an unclean needle. Again, not altogether uncommon; CCR’s Tom Fogerty contracted HIV via a tainted blood transfusion in the Bay area, mid-1980s, during back surgery.

But – Gillen, knowing he was infected, knowingly slept with multiple woman, passing the virus along and ruining the lives of those women and their families. Although details are sketchy about the number of women involved, the end result was that Atlantic discontinued production of both Badlands albums and locked up the master tapes. Although this was normal practice for a slow-selling catalog album, the band always maintained a solid fanbase and there were always requests for a reissue. Although some indy labels expressed interest, due to lawsuits brought by the infected women have forever prevented the album from being reissued.

Badlands received some renewed interest when Lee finally surfaced with his new band, Red Dragon Cartel, in 2014. The tour featured new material, Ozzy tracks that Lee originally played on, and yes, Badlands favorites. A follow-up album is due out in late 2018.

The only constant is change, and bands change members all the time. It can be different, but just as good (Brian Johnson for Bon Scott; AC/DC); sometimes it’s a wash (Timothy B. Schmidt for Randy Meisner; Eagles); while other times it makes the purists crazy (Mathias Jabs for Uli Roth; Scorpions).

Then there’s the old “there’s nothing wrong with the replacement, we just want our old guy back” situation (Jimmy Crespo for Joe Perry; Aerosmith); the par for the course replacement (anybody not named David Coverdale; Whitesnake); and when it’s so late in the day that it really doesn’t matter (Lawence Gowan for Dennis DeYoung; Styx). But sometimes somebody is so bad (or ill-fitting) of a replacement player that it actually brings everything to a screeching halt.

Let’s take a look at changes in a different type of entertainment, the television industry; specifically the long-running sitcom, M*A*S*H. Actually, M*A*S*H started life as a novel, was made into a movie and finally a hit TV show. Talk to any of the purists, and they’ll tell you it was the first three seasons are the only ones that matter. Once Henry Blake and Trapper John checked out, the show lost its edginess and got all preachy as its tone mirrored the moral outrage of its stars. There was talk of “character development,” and everybody started getting all politically correct and self-righteous on us. Miles away from the hard drinking, skirt chasing antics of the original characters.

But the worst gaffe was the creation of B.J. Hunnicutt, Trapper John’s replacement. There was nothing edgy or funny about him (not to mention likable); worse, his hair and moustache made him look like a 1970s minor league porn star, not an early-1950s draftee. There is one stretch in the series when B.J. and Hawkeye constantly engage in the worst display of snappy dialog this side of “Gilmour Girls.” But the nadir is a scene where B.J., missing his family, ends the episode sobbing like a six year-old who didn’t pass the audition for the cheerleading squad.

The worst part of all of this was that it was dumped on us suddenly; not gradually, as in Bruce Springsteen’s transformation from everyguy rocker to an unpleasant, bitter little man, scolding anybody who disagrees with him. It’s also important to note that Mike Farrell had two seconds of fame before M*A*S*H (as a waiter in “The Graduate”) and exactly zero seconds of fame after it ended its run. Shows you exactly how much appeal that guy had…

But back to the music! Here are the five of the most ill-fitting replacement replacements (along with one bonus award). In all instances, the new guy was replaced by the very same person HE replaced. Kind of like Trapper John returning to the 4077th and replacing B.J.

Johnny Edwards – Foreigner
He replaced: Lou Gramm

Why he failed: If Foreigner’s history was any indication, Lou Gramm bailing wouldn’t derail the band; there were some personnel changes that lopped a couple of deadwood members off, and in a case of addition by subtraction, the band became more successful than ever. Besides, guitarist Mick Jones helped produce 5150, the album where David Lee Roth was replaced by Sammy Hagar. That looked easy and worked out well – what could possibly go wrong?

Everything, as it turned out. Despite Foreigner being the poster child for “faceless corporate bands,” Gramm was more vital to the sound of the band than insiders thought. And, although Edwards was a capable vocalist, the songwriting and production bordered on dull. very dull. As in Brian Howe-era Bad Company dull. Fortunately, the following year, Jones and Gramm teamed up again, although their second act didn’t produce any memorable material.

Vital Stats:
Albums: One (Unusual Heat, 1991)
Tours: One
Replaced by: Lou Gramm
Embarrassing moment: Edwards is no longer in the music industry – he now punches the clock in a tech industry cube farm.

John Corabi – Motley Crue
He replaced: Vince Neil

Why he failed: Probably more of a case of bad timing than anything else. Vince Neil’s departure came at a strange time. The band had recently released Decade of Decadence, its follow-up to its #1 Dr. Feelgood, as well as signing a huge new contract with Electra. The replacement? Former Scream (who?) frontman John Corabi.

Although a superior vocalist to Neil, nobody could accept Motley’s new, serious material or the new image. The album came out nearly five years after Feelgood, and the music world had changed greatly since then. Needless to say, the album tanked, the tour suffered and record company pressure forced the band to reinstate Neil. Like Foreigner, the reunited band never came anywhere close their former glories. Motley Crue officially disbanded in 2015.

Vital Stats:
Albums: One (Motley Crue, 1994)
Tours: One
Replaced by: Vince Neil
Embarrassing moment: Nikki Sixx called Crue’s one album with Corabi “very unfocused” and that writing for it was “painful.”

Blaze Bayley – Iron Maiden
He replaced: Bruce Dickenson

Why he failed: Along with Judas Priest’s Rob Halford, Iron Maiden’s Bruce Dickenson is one of the rare, top-tier metal vocalists. How do you replace him? You don’t. But unlike Priest, who went with a Halford vocal clone, Maiden took another route altogether; they replaced “the air raid siren” with a singer whose tone was closer to Type O Negative territory than anything that resembled the legacy of Maiden’s golden decade.

Remarkably, there were hundreds of tapes from wannabes to the throne; how Bayley got picked is still a mystery. But unlike the other bands here, Bruce Dickenson has no issue with performing a couple of the Bayley-era songs in concert.

Vital Stats:
Albums: Two (The X Factor, 1995 & Virtual XI, 1998)
Tours: Two
Replaced by: Bruce Dickenson
Embarrassing moment: Bayley’s first outing with Maiden was a club tour.

Ray Wilson – Genesis
He replaced: Phil Collins

Phil Collins was a ubiquitous force in the 1980s. Despite not being the most dynamic vocalist, his voice, drums and production work ruled the decade. Between Genesis, solo work, sideman and his production efforts (Eric Clapton, Frida, Phillip Bailey, et al), he’s sold close to 200 million albums. 200 million. So, it’s no wonder, when he gave his two weeks notice with Genesis, it would be damn near impossible to replace him. Really, it would have to be TWO replacement players, as Phil also served as Genesis’ drummer.

Not that the remaining members of Genesis didn’t try. For the same unknown reasons that Maiden picked Blaze, Genesis went with Ray Wilson. His voice didn’t suit the old material (to be fair, he did better with the Peter Gabriel-era songs than the Collins stuff), and just as bad, the two new guys looked liked the grandchildren of the two Genesis geezers.

Vital Stats:
Albums: One (Calling All Stations, 1997)
Tours: One (Europe only)
Replaced by: Phil Collins (a decade later)
Embarrassing moment: A Chicago venue reportedly only sold 34 tickets.

Gary Cherone – Van Halen
He replaced: Either Sammy Hagar and David Lee Roth (I forget which came first.)

Unlike Foreigner, Crue, Maiden and Genesis, Van Halen brought in a replacement that was already famous with his previous band, Extreme. (Worked for VH the first time, right?) Noted for 1991’s atrociously wimpy #1, “More Than Words,” Extreme had a B-list rock band career of its own until it imploded following its failed Waiting For The Punchline album and tour in 1995.

Meanwhile, Van Halen was going through its own set of problems; issues with Hagar and a botched reunion with Roth led the band to seek a new vocalist. While there were rumors that heavyweights David Coverdale and Sebastian Bach had auditioned, the gig eventually went to Cherrone.

As all the other scabs mentioned in this blog found out, walking into a band with such a huge legacy (not to mention two iconic vocalists) was a no-win situation. Cherrone is a talented singer; his ability behind the mic was never the issue. It was all about the weak material on Van Halen III and the impossibility of following up two legendary singers.

Vital Stats:
Albums: One (the misleading-titled Van Halen III)
Tours: One
Embarrassing moment: The closing track on the album was sung by Eddie Van Halen.

Bonus! The late-to-the-party addition guy (A.K.A. The Max Klinger award)!

Tomes have been written about Guns n’ Roses, so there’s no need to repeat any of that here. But, back in the pre-internet days of 1991, there was a huge street-level buzz about the impending GNR albums. When they finally arrived with great fanfare in September of that year, the lineup on the inside artwork was different.

Sure, we all knew about the new drummer (drug use was tolerated, but apparently Steven Adler snorted that line after crossing it), but when the CDs finally arrived, we eagerly pored through the artwork. Then upon opening it and seeing the picture of the band, we all asked the same thing; who exactly was that sixth guy sitting there?

Turns out it was Dizzy Reed – a keyboard player. Keyboard player? GNR needed a sixth member like Hillary Clinton needs any more scandals. Turns out Reed, a player in a comically large number of failed bands in the 1980s, was Axl’s little lackey, the only member of the band that didn’t quit or get fired post-1993. So Reed gets the “Max Klinger award,” a late addition that nobody liked, didn’t do anything to further the cause, just somebody who had to be dealt with because they were there.

It takes a lot to become a successful rock star. Talent, looks, hard work and usually lots of good luck are all good to have. You can have any (or all) those attributes, but that doesn’t guarantee you anything. But if you do happen to make it to the top, you’re only a power chord away from a bad decision – one that can derail everything you’ve worked for. In some cases it’s the matter of a single high-profile appearance gone wrong (Sinead O’Conner, Ashlee Simpson, both on SNL), some it’s a matter of a talking too much (Dixie Chicks) and in other cases it’s a poor decision about a song, image or video.

Today, we have three cautionary tales of classic rockers who made that bad call. All of them paid their dues at the bottom of rock’s pecking order for years before hitting the big time; they all released albums early on that never hit and toured like crazy. They should’ve known better, but once they finally hit the pinnacle of rock stardom, it all came crashing down.

Peter Frampton
“I’m In You”
From the album I’m In You (#2, 1977)
Follow-up studio album: (The prophetically-titled) Where I Should Be (#19, 1979)

After playing professionally for almost a decade (first in The Herd, then in Humble Pie), Frampton went solo in the early 1970s and hit the tour circuit opening for anyone and everyone. Like so many of his road dog contemporaries (KISS, Bob Seger, REO Speedwagon, Foghat, etc.), word on the street was that he was better live than on record. So naturally, a live album was in order.

But Frampton Comes Alive! was no ordinary live album – it set the standard for the “double live album” for the rest of time. It was also ubiquitous – even getting a mention in “Wayne’s World” sixteen years after its release. It sold a gazillion copies during America’s Bicentennial year – bringing Frampton from his usual “special guest” billing to headlining (and filling) stadiums.

But when one hits those rarified heights, there comes that pesky little problem of the follow-up. Frampton found out what those before him had experienced; pressure from management and the label – everybody wants a little more. Tour until you drop. Quickly record a new album, but make it better than the last one. With no time to relax, the period between albums saw Frampton lose his original demos, hire guards to keep overzealous fans away from his recording sessions and tend to his high-maintenance girlfriend, Penny McCall. And finally, he posed shirtless for his Rolling Stone cover shot.

Oops. That picture, along with the “I’m In You” album cover (and wimpy lead single) erased all his past – guitar hero, Humble Pie, all that – and lumped him into Leif Garrett/Shawn Cassidy territory. Then things went really wrong – the car accident, palimony, ill-advised movie roles, the revelation by Sweet Connie Hamzy….

What happened next: Frampton had a terrible streak of bad luck following “I’m In You.” He broke up with his girlfriend, was seriously injured in a car crash in the Bahamas (while trying to locate the aforementioned girlfriend, who was partying with members of the Average White Band), starred in the Robert Stigwood’s film debacle “Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Heart’s Club Band” and was sued for palamony. If that wasn’t enough, a cargo plane crash in Brazil (that killed three people) destroyed all his gear, including his prize Les Paul, the one pictured on Frampton Comes Alive! He has successfully toured on the classic rock circuit for the past couple of decades, despite losing his hair.

Styx
“Mr. Roboto”
From the album Kilroy Was Here (#3, 1983)
Follow-up studio album: Edge Of The Century (#63, 1990)

Styx was the little band that could. Formed as a South side of Chicago neighborhood combo in the pre-Beatlemania days, the guys kept it going long enough to land a contract with rinky-dink Wooden Nickel Records in the early 1970s. A bunch of not-very-successful albums were recorded; a local DJ started playing “Lady” from Styx II and the hit spread nationwide. Endless gigging ensued; a contract was signed with A&M; guitarist John Curulewski quit and was replaced by Tommy Shaw (a good career move for both Shaw and Styx); finally the band went a little more mainstream and less proggy and started an upward trajectory.

In 1977, all that hard work finally paid off; Styx’s seventh album, The Grand Illusion, was released and sales went through the roof. Multiple millions of units moved. The next couple records went the same route; hit singles, arena tours and a rabid fan base, despite universal scorn from the critics. 1979’s Cornerstone brought the band its only #1 hit, “Babe,” written by keyboardist Dennis DeYoung. But it also brought trouble to Styxland, as guitarist Shaw accused the band of heading into “Barry Manilow territory” with the hit ballad. Tension escalated; DeYoung was canned, but cooler minds prevailed and he was reinstated after a few weeks. But that’s when the trouble really began.

Early 1981’s Paradise Theatre was a concept album, using a derelict theatre as a metaphor (or is that a simile? You would think that somebody with an M.S. in journalism would know the difference here!) for the current state of Jimmy Carter’s America. A huge hit (Styx’s only #1 album), it set the stage for another “concept” album about music being outlawed. Not a new concept, as The Who and Rush have both used that theme previously; only difference is that theirs didn’t include any songs about robots.

Whatever. The single “Mr. Roboto” from 1983’s Kilroy Was Here was cheesy, but far worse, was the tour, film and “acting” by the Styx members to open dates on the Kilroy tour. The goodwill Styx had built up over the past decade went bye-bye and fans ran towards the exits, covering their ears. Sick of the entire thing and strung out on coke, Tommy Shaw was a zombie for the tour and quit the band shortly thereafter. After five platinum (or better) albums, he must’ve really wanted out.

What happened next: Styx issued a tepidly-received live album in 1984 and was put on ice, and then members started releasing solo albums. The band regrouped with Edge Of The Century in 1990, but without Shaw, who was off enjoying success with the supergroup Damn Yankees. Although the band scored a major hit single (“Show Me The Way” #3), the album tanked and the band was dumped by its long-time label, A&M. A 1996 reunion tour with Shaw (but without drummer John Ponozzo, who was suffering from advanced liver failure which eventually killed him) was a success, but the band never scored a hit album afterwards. Today, the carcass of Styx still tours, but with only guitarists Shaw and James Young remaining from the glory days.

Billy Squier
“Rock Me Tonite”
From the album Signs Of Life (#11, 1984)
Follow-up studio album: Enough Is Enough (#61, 1986)

Billy Squier was the first AOR superstar of the early 1980s. Throwing a mix of Zeppelin, Clapton, Rolling Stones and more into his music, his sophomore album, Don’t Say No became an instant classic. Mistakenly labeled by some as an “overnight sensation,” that tag couldn’t be farther from the truth, as he spent over a decade trying to make it in the music business. He played in several bands before releasing two albums with the band Piper, whose biggest claim to fame was opening for KISS in 1977. His solo debut, 1980’s The Tale of the Tape was a minor hit; by the time Don’t Say No hit, Billy Squier was over the age of thirty. Better late than never.

1982’s follow-up Emotions in Motion used the same basic framework; again, another top five, multiplatinum album. More radio airplay, more acclaim. A featured track on the “Fast Times at Ridgemont High” soundtrack. By the time the Emotions tour cycle had ended, Squier was headlining arenas with bands like Def Leppard opening.

By early 1984, Squier had parted ways with producer Mack (of Queen fame) and started a new album with “Mutt” Lange (architect of classic AC/DC and Def Leppard albums and the future Mr. Shania Twain). That collaboration was quickly put on ice due when Mutt learned of an alleged tryst between Squier and the first Mrs. Mutt way back in the 1970s.  (Wasn’t that what the 70s were all about?)

Mutt said “No way, Guillermo!” and pulled out of the project; Jim Steinman, songwriter best known for penning hits for Meat Loaf, Air Supply and Bonnie Tyler was commissioned. The ensuing album, Signs of Life is surprisingly good and diverse, despite its cover art. Actually, he delivered an album that showed “artistic growth.” Even Rolling Stone magazine is impressed; life is good. By now Squier is a big enough artist to warrant a “World Premiere Video” on MTV. Not Bruce Springsteen big, but an A-list rocker nonetheless. The first single, “Rock Me Tonite” is tagged to have its video debut in July 1984.

What happened next is a matter of who you want to believe. Different parties have blamed others for what happened next; either way, the “Rock Me Tonite” video was not the most “manly” video ever released. Yes, videos by Culture Club and Prince were far more androgynous than his, yet it wasn’t cool because Squier was a macho “rocker.” Truth of the matter is, that his dancing was about on the same level as other unfunky white guys like Mick Jagger doing the chicken dance, but the silk sheets, pastel colors and Flashdance shirts didn’t help his case at all. End of the day – despite the song being the highest charting single in his career, it drove away fans and his career never recovered.

What happened next: Despite the video debacle, Squier renegotiated his recording contract in 1985 to one of the richest in the industry. Unfortunately for his record label (Capitol), like many artists who signed huge contracts at the top (Janet Jackson, R.E.M., ZZ Top, Mariah Carey, Motley Crue), Squier’s best days were behind him. None of his subsequent albums (or singles) managed to crack the top 40 and each release was less and less successful. He ended up quitting the industry in 1993, following the release of his non-charting Tell The Truth album. Shows you what happens when you don’t pay attention to Peter Frampton.

After recording seven Red Rider albums, Tom Cochrane officially became a solo artist in 1991, upon the demise of the band. (He did, however, release a pre-Red Rider LP, so technically he was a solo artist in in 1974.) Actually, that should’ve come as no surprise to anybody, as the first four were released under the name “Red Rider” and albums number five through seven under the “Tom Cochrane & Red Rider” banner. (This followed the long tradition of putting the star’s name in front before eventually disbanding the group – Buddy Holly & The Crickets, Diana Ross & The Supremes, Eric Burdon & The Animals, Bob Marley & The Wailers, et al.)

Red Rider had attained cult status in the States thanks to FM radio and MTV favorites – “White Hot” (1979), “Lunatic Fringe” and “Cowboys in Hong Kong” (both 1981), “Light In The Tunnel” and “Power” (both 1983). But up in the Great White North, the band was a big deal. Maybe not Bruce Springsteen big, but perhaps Bob Seger big. Enough that the name “Tom Cochrane” garnered a decent amount of respect.

Entering a new decade is rarely kind to stars of the previous years, and the transition from the 1980s to the 1990s was no exception. Many of the largest rock bands of the 1980s struggled to maintain career status quo in the 1990s. But Cochrane, playing it smart (or just doing what came naturally to him), abandoned the slick rock sound of Red Rider and went with something that was a little more timeless and not sonically rooted in one particular decade.

His 1991 solo release (1992 in The U.S.), Mad Mad World was much more rootsy-John Mellencamp/Bruce Springsteen type of music than anything Red Rider recorded. Gone was the 1980s guitar sounds and big rock production; instead, there was more acoustic guitar and crisp percussion. And in the tradition of timeless road songs (“On The Road Again,” “Ventura Highway” and “Take Me Home, Country Roads”), the album’s enduring single, “Life Is A Highway” was a hit on both the radio and video airwaves.

So, the album and single were enough to get Tom Cochrane on the map as a solo artist; unfortunately (similar to Roger McGuinn and Back From Rio), that traction and name recognition didn’t carry over to his next release, 1995’s Ragged Ass Road. (At least not here in the States.) Today, Cochrane tours as both a solo artist and as part of a reformed Red Rider.

Vital Stats: 

• Artist: Tom Cochrane
• Album: Mad Mad World
• Label: Capitol
• Producer:Tom Cochrane, Joe Hardy
• Released: September 1991 (Canada); February 1992 (America)

First comes the band. Four albums in four years. All huge, all platinum. Then a three-year gap, which could easily be the end of the band. Come 1984, The Cars, with new producer “Mutt” Lange, release their biggest album yet, Heartbeat City. Hit singles, award-winning MTV videos, huge tour, Live Aid, all that mid-1980s stuff. It doesn’t get much better than that. Then it’s time for another break.

The band’s first break (between 1981’s Shake It Up and 1984’s Heartbeat City) saw the release of two of The Cars member’s solo albums (Ric Ocasek’s Beatitude and Greg Hawkes’ Niagara Falls.), The next break however (following Heartbeat City and the obligatory hits album, which featured the single “Tonight She Comes”), saw albums by THREE group members; the star songwriter (Ric Ocasek), the star guitarist (Elliot Easton) and the star vocalist (Benjamin Orr).

After this solo journey, the band reconvened in early 1987 to release what would unfortunately be their final album, Door To Door. Although a solid effort, it didn’t measure up their previous work, both critically or commercially, and after the spottily-attended tour, the band called it quits in February 1988, ending a decade-long reign of one of America’s greatest rock bands.

Ric Ocasek
This Side of Paradise
1986

The best (and needless to say, most Cars-like) of the three was Ocasek’s sophomore release. Enlisting keyboardist Hawkes from The Cars, his was the best, both commercially and critically.

One glimpse at the album credits showed something that most punters wouldn’t pick up; many of the other musicians on the album were considered “cutting edge” artists (Roland Orzibel, Steve Stevens, Chris Hughes and Tony Levin – among others), which seemed strange that somebody who was long considered “cutting edge” would want to use the era’s hot new artists to keep his career relevant. But that said, it was 1986, and The Cars had been around for almost a decade.

This Side of Paradise spawned Ocasek’s only hit single, “Emotion In Motion” (no relation to the 1982 Billy Squier hit), which peaked at #15. Ocasek’s production skills on the album were similar to those employed on 1987’s Door To Door.

Trivia: 1986’s This Side Of Paradise contained contribution from all the other Cars’ members except drummer David Robinson.

Elliot Easton
Change No Change
1985

Eason’s only solo album, Change No Change, was co-written by Jules Shear (of the critically acclaimed but commercially disappointing new wavers Jules and the Polar Bears) was released in 1985, an “off” year for Easton’s day job band, The Cars. But being “off” in 1985 meant performing at July’s Live Aid concert in Philly; releasing a greatest hits album (The Cars’ Greatest Hits peaked at #12 on Billboard’s Album Chart) and a new single (“Tonight She Comes” – #7 on Billboard Singles Chart) and accompanying video.

Shears, (composer of Cyndi Lauper’s “All Though The Night” and The Bangles’ “If She Knew What She Wants”), also sang backing vocals on the album. Guitars and bass were handled by Easton; drums were performed by Ministry drummer Stephen George. Bassist Brad Hallen and keyboardist Jon Mathias also contributed to the album.

Oddly enough, despite Easton’s reputation in the industry, Change No Change is not a guitar-based album; it’s more songwriter styled disc, reminiscent of an Elvis Costello release. Which, in 1985, couldn’t be considered a strong selling point. Nonetheless, it’s a good, but not great listen that only sometimes gets past second gear. Post-Cars, Easton played with a number of different artists, but Change No Change remains the only album released under his name.

Trivia: Easton grew up in Massapequa, New York, the same town as Brian Setzer, Dee Snider and Jerry Seinfeld.

Benjamin Orr
The Lace
1986

Although he was the lead vocalist on many of the band’s most popular songs (“Just What I Needed,” “Candy-O,” “Moving In Stereo” and “Double Trouble”), it was 1984’s hit single “Drive” (and accompanying video) that brought Cars bassist/vocalist a lot of attention.

Unfortunately, Orr was an inexperienced songwriter and due to his unwillingness (or inability) to kick out the jams (but to be fair, The Cars were never that kind of band), there wasn’t a lot of punch in most of the synth-heavy, mid-tempo tracks on the album. The best song, the lone hit single (“Stay The Night,” #24) showcased his voice, but fell squarely into the “adult contemporary” category.

The Lace was Orr’s only album; after The Cars disbanded, he spent the rest of his career performing with a number of bands, including his own (Orr) and “supergroups” of similarly washed up rockers. Unfortunately, Orr lost his battle to pancreatic cancer in 2000.

Trivia: Benjamin Orr’s real last name was “Orzechowski.”

All good things must come to an end, including the recording careers of once-mighty rock bands. But while some classic artists ended their careers on a high note, including The Police – Synchronicity, Jimi Hendrix – Electric Ladyland and The Beatles – Abbey Road (on a technicality), others surrendered without a fight with a disappointing (commercially and/or critically) album that is rarely mentioned in the same sentence along with the rest of their catalog.

In this blog, as far as final release go, I’ve excluded albums of artists who died shortly after releasing what would turn out to be their final work (The Doors – L.A. Woman, John Lennon – Double Fantasy, Nirvana – In Utero). That’s because rock loves the dead guy, which means that hipster blogs attempt to revise history and have desperately tried to paint these albums as the crowning achievement in these artists’ catalog. (File under “Fake News”).

Finally, some acts fall into “haven’t been relevant for years” category when the final album drops. This group includes R.E.M., Queen and Grand Funk Railroad, so I’ve disallowed albums by artists like them. And obviously, any posthumous albums (Pink Floyd – The Endless River, John Lennon – Milk and Honey and any post-9/18/1970 Jimi Hendrix releases, no matter how brilliant) have been similarly barred from consideration here.

The Clash
Cut The Crap
1985

In rock history, no punk band stayed to their principles from inception to arena status, except for The Clash. Up until 1982, that is. After releasing four albums that (cliché alert – yuck!) pushed the envelope of what was acceptable in the framework of punk rock, the band managed the impossible balancing act (a feat up there with pulling off “friends with benefits”) with the release of Combat Rock: Being a commercially successful punk rock band that stayed true to its original ideals.

Then all sorts of chaos entered the equation. A revolving door of drummers coming and going (and going and coming) didn’t help matters, nor did drug abuse among band members along with the long-simmering discord between guitarist Mick Jones and vocalist Joe Strummer. Long story short – Jones got the boot, auditions for a guitarist was held, and the rest of the band, unable to decide between the two finalists, hired them both. (History repeats itself: See The Guess Who.)

Needless to say, these two scabs didn’t share the same “history” as the others (not to mention the same vision) – so, in the big picture they were no different than Jimmy Crespo, Vinnie Vincent or Paul Chapman – replacement guitarists that were hitching a ride on a band with a platinum past. And to think that 1985’s double LP Cut The Crap meant anything to anybody, well, let’s just say the album wasn’t even mentioned on The Clash’s The Clash On Broadway box set or on its website.

To add insult to injury, the band didn’t film any videos to promote the album. So by 1985, The Clash had passed its sell-by date. When the charts are full of Phil Collins, Tears For Fears and Whitney Houston, a band like The Clash has nowhere to go. Except to quietly fade away…

Trivia: 1990s one trick pony band Jackyl also release an album titled Cut The Crap.

Twisted Sister
Love is For Suckers
1987

No band pushed itself harder for success than Long Island’s Twisted Sister. Working every New York/New Jersey/Connecticut club and dump five nights a week, the band punched the clock for more than 2000 gigs before even signing a record deal. (Reference point: Led Zeppelin performed less than 700 times in its twelve-year career!) It took seven long years of steady gigging from vocalist Dee Snider’s debut in 1976 until the band’s first stateside release, 1983’s You Can’t Stop Rock ‘n’ Roll.

Crashing through the door opened by gateway pop/metal band Quiet Riot, Twisted Sister hit the big time the next year; Stay Hungry, the band’s biggest (and best) album, which contained the anthem “We’re Not Gonna Take It” went platinum, and the band spent the next year touring the world.

Eager to strike while the band was hot, Twisted Sister attempted to unite the entire music audience under one album, Come Out and Play. The pop songs would be poppier, the metal songs would harder and the anthems would be even more timeless. Everybody within earshot would walk away happy. What could possibly go wrong with that plan?

Everything, it turned out. Featuring the ill-advised lead single, a cover of The Shangri-La’s “Leader of the Pack” (in the band’s defense, they had performed it – to positive response – in their club days), the album, which was supposed to appeal to everybody, ended up pleasing nobody. Especially the band’s core metal audience. The ensuing tour was plagued by empty seats and overall apathy and was quickly scrapped, with the standard PR response mentioning throat problems for Snider.

After hiding out for a year, the band (minus drummer AJ Pero, who quit in disgust in the meantime), released less-than-metal Love is For Suckers, helmed by the hot producer de jour, Beau Hill (Ratt, Fiona). While Suckers pales in comparison to Hungry (and Play, for that matter), its overall desperate-for-a-hit tone sounded like a band whose sell-by date had past. (I never bought into that “it was supposed to be a solo album, but the label pressured us into releasing under the group banner” party line.) Twisted Sister broke up two months after the album’s release.

Trivia: The band reunited 14 years later and toured the world until officially retiring in 2016.

Dire Straits
On Every Street
1991

Dire Straits hit it big from the word go – its 1978 eponymous debut album and single “Sultans of Swing” were able to somehow fit in an era filled with punk, stadium rock and disco, all while sounding nothing like any of those genres. But its sophomore album suffered from the “Pretenders II conundrum” – not as commercially successful as the debut, and fans were divided whether it was a masterpiece or dog. Same with its third album; by then, Dire Straits had become a cult act, no hit singles and suffering from declining sales.

Love Over Gold, the fourth album was a fan favorite, but its commercial potential was somewhat limited by the fact it only contained five very long songs. (The shortest song, “Industrial Disease” was 5:55; the longest track “Telegraph Road” clocked in at over fourteen minutes.) The band, at a crossroads, released a live album and plotted its next move.

The ensuing LP, Brothers In Arms was an enormous hit in every area; sales, critical acclaim, airplay (both radio and especially MTV, due to its unique video), but most vitally, the band hit a cultural nerve, something that few acts have the potential to achieve. (Even the cover art became iconic.) And for a few seconds, between Dire Straits and Bruce Springsteen, headbands on guitarists was a cool look. The band, of course, embarked on a wildly successful tour that circled the globe the next few years.

By the time they came back with new product, it was late 1991. Not the best time for bands from the 1980s to release an album due to the rise of grunge and alternative bands. (Or maybe it was the headbands that doomed them.) On Every Street sold respectably (one million in America compared to Brothers’ nine million), and charted considerably lower (#12 peak, compared to Brothers’ nine weeks at #1).  Of course, there was enough carryover demand from the Brothers era for a successful world tour.

The band quietly called it quits after the tour, and leader Mark Knopfler has steadfastly refused all offers for a reformation. The album wasn’t a “failure” like The Clash or Twisted Sister, but in the big scheme of things, Dire Straits isn’t going to be remembered for the singles “Heavy Fuel” and “Calling Elvis.”

Trivia: Like John and Tom Fogerty in CCR, Dire Straits featured brothers (Mark and David Knopfler) in its initial lineup; also like CCR, the one who didn’t sing, write songs or play lead guitar exited the band for a non-existent solo career.