Last night, as noted in the last blog, I went to see Rick Wakeman at The Ace Hotel in Downtown L.A. It was my first concert since Opeth on March 4th, 2020 at the Hollywood Palladium. I went with Grimsley, we took the Red Line from North Hollywood to the Metro/7th St. Station. I didn't know quite what to expect, having not ridden the subway since Covid (and mass homelessness), but it wasn't much different than before, except for masks. Ditto DTLA. It feels safer at night in the last 10 or 15 years, because it's been revitalized and there are are a lot of "regular folks" walking around, going to restaurants and bars. We got to the theatre at 7:40, did the Covid check and found our seats. Wakeman came on at 8:15, and proceeded to blow everyone's mind with musical perfection and some of the most melodic pianism that only he can deliver in his inimitable style. He told stories in between songs, mostly ribald or off color, including one about how he and Keith Emerson wound up in a restroom stall together, and came out to find Jon Lord staring at them. He played three of the Six Wives (mindblowingly incredible), he played "Morning Has Broken", "Life on Mars", a wide selection of his solo work and a Beatles medley played in the styles of Saint-Saens and Prokofiev. His musicianship was impeccable. It blows my mind to think that I saw him almost 50 years ago, and his playing is even better now, if that's possible. Rick Wakeman is one of those musicians like Neil Peart or Edward Van Halen, where God touched them on the shoulder and said "you're it". Except in Rick's case, unlike Neil and EVH, he's kept going with no problems. He brought along a synth this time to replicate the pipe organ in "Jane Seymour". He played a long, complex improv on "And You and I". He did a q and a session, with cards filled out by fans before the show, and he read my question, which was: "will you tour the Red Planet in the USA?". I already knew the answer when I filled out the card. He said "I would love to tour it, but it depends on the promoters". Freakin' promoters. Why should they have the final say in everything? Well anyhow, the whole thing was Off the Charts as you can imagine.
As mentioned in the last blog, concertwise Rick Wakeman is the artist whose been with me the longest. I first saw him in September 1974, and then - think about this - 42 years went by before I saw him again, with ARW (Anderson Rabin and Wakeman) in November 2016 at the Orpheum Theatre. Since then I've seen him thrice more, once again with ARW in 2018 at the Greek, and then solo on the first Grumpy Old Rock Star tour in 2019, and then last night on the Even Grumpier solo tour, both at the Ace Hotel. To think that he's been around all this time, and that he wrote Six Wives when he was 23, and and then to think that he plays those pieces better than ever at 73, life and time are strange and blessed things. God bless Rick Wakeman is all I can say. He's like family, and one of my very favorite musicians and composers. He's also (I think) The King of Progressive Rock. Not only has he been in Yes and had an amazing solo career, but he was also an original member of The Strawbs, and has played on albums by everyone from Bowie to Lou Reed to Black Sabbath and Ozzy to Cat Stevens and Elton John. I mean, holy smokes. C'mon already. So that's my review, of my first Covid-era concert. Next up will be Alice Cooper in April. I wanted to go to Paul McCartney at SoFi in May, but it was very expensive (Dodger Stadium in 2019 was only 65 bucks), and I also didn't wanna go by myself. I think those days are mostly over for me. I'm only gonna go to shows where I have someone to go with, and if that means just a few select shows, so be it. I've probably been to 800 concerts in 48 years (since California Jam in 1974), so it won't kill me if I don't go as regularly any more. (but don't hold me to what I just said, just in case.....)
On the motion picture front, the previous night I found another Zane Grey, "Nevada"(1944), starring Robert Mitchum as "Jim Lacy", a cowhand and gambler plying his trade in Gold City, Nevada. Right around the time of his arrival, a mining claim is brought in to assayer "Cash Burridge" (Craig Reynolds), who examines the ore and discovers it's full of silver. He keeps the news to himself, telling the miner it's worthless "blue dirt". Then he tries to buy up all the claims, or force the claimants out so he can get rich. The movie is the story of the Comstock lode, which was bigger than the California gold rush. Jim Lacy gets his nickname of "Nevada" when he stops the runaway wagon of showgirl "Julie Dexter" (Anne Jeffreys). She's traveling to Gold City with her six beautiful dancers, and when Lacy comes to their rescue, she invites him to come see her revue, at a place called Red Berry's.
He wants to go, but his partners "Chito Rafferty" (Richard Martin) and "Dusty" ("Big Boy" Guinn Williams) think it's a waste of time. Red Berry's casino is rigged, they say. Lacy says "I don't wanna be a 20 dollar cowpoke all my life. I've got a hunch I'm gonna win big". So he goes there, and Big Boy and Chito end up trailing along. Chito is always up for some beautiful women, and when they get to Red Berry's, Lacy is indeed winning big at craps. He's up seven thousand dollars and wants to cash in. The owner asks him to play one more game. "C'mon, Lacy. Gimme a chance to win some of my money back". He tries to give him loaded dice. Lacy sees he's about to be robbed, and - with the help of Big Boy and Chito - he shoots his way out of the joint, after securing his 7 thou in a satchel. He's been payed in a type of cash called Yellowbacks; hundred dollar bills from the Bank of California. Nevada isn't yet a state, not even a territory. It's lawless out in the desert. Will Lacy and the boys be safe traveling back to Virginia City? Well, they split up. Lacy goes it alone, and in the Alabama Hills he hears a shot.
Someone has killed "Mr. Ide" (Harry McKim), a nice gentleman who was traveling to V-City to have his ore assayed. In town, all the miners have been wondering what The Blue Stuff is. Cash Burridge knows its silver, but keeps telling them it's worthless dirt. He and his henchman "Powell" (the great Harry Woods) have ambushed Mr. Ide and stolen his ore, leaving his daughter "Hattie" (Nancy Gates) alone in the world to look after her little brother.
The plot conflict happens when Jim Lacy, on his way back from Red Berry's, hears the shot, rides out to investigate and finds Mr. Ide dead. A posse in turn rides up and sees Lacy kneeling over the body. He just so happens to have his seven thousand dollars in Yellowbacks in his possession, but it's bad for him because seven thousand dollars, also in Yellowbacks, were stolen from Mr. Ide along with his ore. That makes it look like Lacy robbed and killed Mr. Ide, though Lacy tells the Sheriff he won the money gambling. "Go ask the dice players at Red Berry's, they saw me".
The posse members wanna string Lacy up on the spot, but the Sheriff holds them off. He takes Jim back to jail, where the townsfolk form a vigilante group and use a battering ram to extricate him. Powell and Burridge offer a hundred dollars to the man who will hang Jim Lacy. Big Boy Williams takes the offer, and fakes the hanging so his pal can escape. By now, everyone except Hattie Ide knows that Cash Burridge is behind the silver scam. Powell gets shot and confesses. There's a very interesting scene with another mining engineer who refines some of the blue ore in his office smelter. Then he uses a chemical process to determine that the ore contains silver. Its fascinating scientific stuff in the middle of a traditional Western. "Nevada" has a script with all the proper ingredients: dance hall girls (complete with a rehearsal scene), sweet orphans, runaway wagons, gambling dens, evil mining assayers, comic relief from Emmet Lynn as "Pancake" the town drunk, Big Boy Guinn in the Good-Natured Behemoth role, and Bob Mitchum as the laconic, rebellious-but-honest "Nevada" Jim Lacy. He's chivalrous but he doesn't get romantic. Shot in Lone Pine as always in the Zane Grey Westerns, with the Alabama Hills as a backdrop, "Nevada" is as good as Westerns get. Two Huge Thumbs Up, therefore, and a very high recommendation. The picture is razor sharp. /////
That's all for this evening. I hope you're having a nice weekend. I'm going to listen to some Rick Wakeman and you should, too. I send you Tons of Love, as always. xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo :):)
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