The Purple Pinup Guru Platform

When purple things are pulsating on your mind, I'm the one whose clock you want to clean. Aiding is Sparky, the Astral Plane Zen Pup Dog from his mountain stronghold on the Northernmost Island of the Happy Ninja Island chain, this blog will also act as a journal to my wacky antics at an entertainment company and the progress of my self published comic book, The Deposit Man which only appears when I damn well feel like it. Real Soon Now.

Tuesday, September 21, 2004


I was too busy writing a review of a Yes concert I went to on Sunday without even half trying. I posted it on Yesnet this afternoon. Easily accessible through the band's website- Enjoy- although I can't promise you anything.

Hey, does anyone remember who Marv Albert's favorite rock band is?


And so here I am just a few years older since I've seen the last Yes concert at the Universal Ampitheatre (not one of my favorite venues in the whole world, but easily accessible from my house). although what I got was the abridged version, so to speak.

Earlier in the year, another important Yes event was celebrated in my neck of the San Fernando Valley and that was the in-store signing release party of the U.S version of Rhino's Ulimate Yes collection and the Yesspeak DVD at the Sherman Oaks Galleria's Tower Record- a store that was literally 3 short blocks from my house. That was a fun experience, getting up at 4 AM in the morning just to wait in line for a wristband and chat it up with Valley locals about Yes music.

Hmmm, these sexagenarian old rockers are getting closer and closer to where I live, I wonder if I just invite them over for a barbacue or something.

But that was a full on assult of acoustic serendipity and a fun evening of meet and greet - one of which I will always cherish for my remaining years. I wanted so much to check out the Anaheim show, but for one who doesn't get around in a SUV and relies on public transport, that is one gig that might as well be as far out of reach as the south side of the sky- so I guess this show I saw Sunday would just as well have been my dog's Saturday night's dinner scraps.

First, I'm grateful that the tour merchandise's prices weren't out in the stratosphere. I found a good $15.00 priced t-shirt (probably the lowest I've paid at a concert in years - maybe since when I was a snotty nosed 15 year old at the Tormato tour), although I'm kicking myself for not picking up the 35 dollar long sleeved Relayer one (didn't see it until I left the concert) and the program book was a steal for $10 with a tribute to bootlegged concerts. Surly some appetizer to what will whet our full coarse of the proposed 3 disc live set that Rhino has scheduled for release in the near future.

Security precautions made a good portion of the ticket holders late for Dream Theater, as evident by the cattle prodded march to the major pat 'ho' down provided by Uni staff members. When I got inside, Dream Theater as just ending a song from one of their older albums before launching into one of their most brilliant instrumental pieces, 'Stream of Consciousness' from their latest studio effort, Train of Thought. Haven't seen the band since the 2000 Metropolis tour ( and there was a lot of stuff from the previous two albums that I haven't heard live before ), so it was kinda of awkward to see DT occupy such a large stage- I'm so used to seeing them perform at smaller venues such as the House of Blues that they looked as if they were too small to be up there. Mike Portnoy is still, as usual, the star of the show just bitchslappin' that drum kit away like a galactic warrior roaring to jettison into hyperdrive. The stuff he does to those skins really make my toes curl. And I think Jordan Rudess was purposily in a Yes homage mode that night- some of the timbres coming from his keyboard was sort of Wakemaneques, especially when they went into toe tapping territory on 'Solitary Shell'. Damn, I really dig that twirl-a- whirl keyboard stand that Rudess sports on stage. That could be really useful in any keyboard player's arsenal. Also I've noticed that guitar god John P is starting to sprout a bald spot.

And then it was on to the Steve Howe hair club for men.

So it was here that I caught my first glimpse of the new designs for the Roger Dean Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade. Varilites, camera, action. And if you squint closely, you'll spot Keanu Reeves popping out of one of Alan White's robot bass drum pods like he did in 'the Matrix'.

The short abreviated set opened beautifully with two songs I've never heard seen performed live before, 'Going for the One' and 'Sweet Dreams'. Jon Anderson's voice cracking under the pressure of the high notes- but not by much- just a little tweakening in the Frodo vocal infrastructure, but nothing to be concerned about. There was the first of three guitar/keyboard solo duel frolicking between Rick Wakeman and Howe during the end of "Sweet Dream". I don't know who really won but Howe and Wakeman would butt heads again at the conclusion of South Side of the Sky and Starship Trooper.

Unfortunely the two opening numbers would be the only highlight of the show for me. The rest of the show with the exception of the acoustic interlude, was just a ho hum, been there, done that kind of extravaganza for me. And the reason why this obtuse dread of melancholy washes over me is because I look at most of the set list and it's BEEN THERE, DONE THAT. I've already heard Yours is No Disgrace dozens of times. The same with Awaken and heck, I don't even no longer want to go to places where And You and I have been - that was my cue for a ciggie break.

It would be nice if the band could take a year or two off from touring - even though the twilight years are beckoning over the horizon and the risk of Steve Howe keeling over anyday now becoming more inevitable ( but it was a relief to know that the Geritol was giving him more pep than usual that night) just to sit back and record one new last record with Wakeman- even if it was to say good-bye and disappear into the sunset- it would be the honorable way - with Rick on board the sailing ship to nowhere leaving at any place.

Please guys, new some new material to tour behind- or the franchise is going to wind up as bad as the Moody Blues where you will no longer need a scorecard to predict the set list. I gave up on that band when Justin Hayward and John Lodge gave poor Patrick Moraz the heave ho.

I wouldn't want the same happening to my favorite minstrels in the world.




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