Even by the standards of prog shows, which only get close to mainstream if a Yes or Rush is headlining, these bands were largely from the underground.
Michael Nesmith’s proto-Americana songs had aged the least—listen to the jangly guitar and stream-of-conscious lyric on “Tapioca Tundra” and you’d swear that was where R.E.M. got the idea.
Though Barry Gibb performed most of his life with the Bee Gees, he was surprisingly un-slick as a showman.
The band was still Television and often as not, still magnificent.
Better than Ezra may be more than a hardworking, nice-guy band permanently fated to be overshadowed by more significant artists.
If Boy George had carried on in this vein — working the best of the old in with the new, and keeping the soul roots upfront — the night would have been a surprise triumph.
As a solo artist, Neil Finn’s moved away from straightforward pop and toward a moodier sound, with lyrics asking bigger questions about life and mortality.
A sensitive folkie may tell you to get beyond your negativity; these guys tell you to “take all that bullshit and put it in the dumpsta.”
Yes, Gary Numan’s jumped a bandwagon, but the former new-wave hitmaker has done it with style.
Robin Lane’s story goes back to her ‘60s days as a child of Hollywood glamor, her long tenure as a Boston rock survivor, and her recent renaissance as a musical counsellor for abused women.