As the year comes to an end, on behalf of Judy and myself I’d like to thank those of you who have come to visit us here at Classics Du Jour.

Before I continue I would also like to take a moment and remember a record business great, and our good friend Paul Yeskel. This site was his original dream and Judy and I have been lucky to be able to continue it, and hopefully build it to yet another plateau for your pleasure.

In my conversations this year with so many radio programmers, it really came to light how much he is so sorely missed. I knew he had his share of friends and connections, but I had no idea how deeply he had touched so many lives over the years with this vision of Classics Du Jour. And, not only radio folks, but so many recording artists as well.

He was truly one of the good guys. So, we strike a rockin’ power chord in his name today!

Now for more fun Bruce:

In 1978 Bruce went on the Darkness tour. For many of us, this was our favorite because even though Bruce was beginning to really break, there was still that innocence of the climb up. It’s the most fun stage for an artist and record company I think. You’re turning on more and more of the public to an artist and it’s great to see all their shared experiences because of it. In fact, you share it all with them and the artist. It’s the true beginning of “the tribe” so to speak.

Some may remember that this tour was where the audience really got into passing Bruce around over their heads! Yes, for those who don’t know, there’d come a point in the show where he would lean backwards over the stage’s edge and gently fall into the audience’s hands. They would literally pass him around the room (mostly in theaters at this point) and deposit him gently right back on the stage. One of the most amazing and loving things I’ve ever witnessed in rock (or in any musical performance for that matter).

So, anyway, late in the fall season we were all at the Winterland shows in San Francisco (he did two nights). Bruce gets back on stage after the audience finishes passing him around, and he starts telling them that he and the band were feeling a little less potent because traditionally they didn’t carry a big light show, which was normal for most bands of that time (of course, the truth is that Bruce and the E Street Band did not require any fancy lights for the major league rock explosion they delivered au naturale). Nevertheless, he started talking about the Who, and their big laser light show, and that after discussing it with the E Street Band, everyone felt they should finally cave in and do the light show thing.

So, Bruce announces that on this night they have brought the BIG light show. The crowd goes crazy! He asks for all the lights in Winterland to be turned off so that everyone can get the FULL effect.

The lights go off—there is total silence, and total darkness.

Someone flicks a switch, and the next thing we all see are CHRISTMAS LIGHTS!! blinking around all the amplifiers and drum kit!! Ha, ha—the biggest smiles and applause from everyone! Totally blue collar, totally E Street, totally New Jersey—totally Christmas.

An example of the innocent kind of fun that use to happen in those good ‘ol days of rock.

AND NOW, HERE’S A BONUS STORY—cuz I just thought of it, and it’s ALL TIME, so don’t stop reading now!!

Same hall, different band—THE BLUE OYSTER CULT!

Now, these guys WERE about lasers, pyrotechnics, and anything else cool they could lay their hands on.

It was during their time on the theater circuit as well, and they opened their show the same way every evening. The announcer (I got to do it once) could say any of the trippiest sh*t he wanted describing the band, but at the end, the cue for the pyro and lights was the sentence…”Here they are from New York City, the amazing Blue Oyster Cult!”
At this point the band had already taken their places on the edge of the stage in the darkness, and after those words were spoken flash pots would go off all the way across the stage sending flames and smoke to the ceiling. The lights would immediately blare bright and the band would launch into one of their faster than hell songs to make the crowd totally nuts. Very exciting and it worked like a charm every evening.

Not only was it always a blast hanging out with bands but also their road crews as well. The guy in charge of the BOC’s pyro was nicknamed the “E Factor,” or, just plain “Factor” for short.

I used to like watching him load the flash pots before each show. He had these bottles of flash powder, which I assume is just black powder, the kind used in fireworks. I used to make my own when I was a kid building rockets (but that’s a whole other story!).
Anyway, he’d take a bottle and pour a little into each pot—looked like roughly a tablespoon each.

So, one night we’re at Winterland and I’m watching him and I think he must be drunk or has really lost his mind. He was EMPYING AN ENTIRE BOTTLE of flash powder into each, individual flash pot!!!

I ran up to him and said, “Factor! Holy crap, do you know what you’re doing???!!!!”

He looked at me with that New York distain, and said, “I hate the West Coast, and I REALLY HATE San Francisco!” (I think he’s the only person I’ve ever met who hated San Francisco!)

At any rate, I go to the back of the hall, to the soundboard to watch the opening of the show with my friend, the band’s manager (and part writer too), Sandy Pearlman.
I told Sandy he was liable to witness a bigger flash than usual. Never the one to worry and always looking for as much drama as possible, he got excited and just said, “Awesome!”

So, the announcer does his thing, then says the obligatory line…”Here they are from New York City, the amazing Blue Oyster Cult!”

Next thing—like a nuclear explosion!! The flash was so big it completely blinded the entire audience, including us, and we were at the very back!

But that’s not the half of it. After the bright light came the heat from the explosion. That was so powerful it came like a wave rushing towards us, and we could feel it like the hot sun on your face during a summer’s day.

We were so blinded, we couldn’t even see the smoke until our eyes adjusted, and by then it was huge clouds crawling across the entire ceiling of Winterland!

I swear I thought we’d killed the first three rows of kids standing in front of the stage!!! It’s funny now, but then, I wasn’t too sure!

The band actually looked stunned for a moment before they started their opening number, and in fact, talking with them afterwards, Buck, the guitar player told me their eyebrows got singed!

While the rest of us worried that we’d either destroyed the band, some kids, or blown up the hall itself, Pearlman just looked as pleased as punch wearing the biggest smile. He turned around to me and in his laid back, mad scientist fashion said, “Wow, indeed, positively nuclear.”

Then he exhorted the soundman to turn the guitars up as loud as possible. “I’m convinced all these kids care about are the guitars! Ride those guitars!!” he kept yelling, as another historic rock show got under way.

Ah the good ‘old days!

Anyway, a belated Happy Chanukah—and wishing all of you a Classic Christmas, and a Rockin’ New Year!

Rap~