Showing posts with label Cream. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Cream. Show all posts

CD Review: Ace Frehley – Origins Vol. 1

CD Review: Ace Frehley – Origins Vol. 1
eOne Music
All Access Rating: A-

Ace Frehley - Origins Vol. 1 2016
Seeing the Who and Cream open up for Mitch Ryder at the RKO theater at his first-ever rock concert was a life-changing experience for a young and impressionable Ace Frehley. That, perhaps more than anything else, convinced him that his calling was to conjure rock 'n' roll hellfire for the masses, who would worship him like a god.

On Origins Vol. 1, with its big, beefed-up production and pristine, powerful crunch, the revered former KISS guitarist pays tribute to the artists who influenced his career, performing a clutch of cover songs and old KISS tracks with immaculate precision, blazing energy and a whole lot of muscle.

In fact, the old Rolling Stones classic "Street Fighting Man" has never sounded so polished and heavy, becoming an arena-rock dynamo in Frehley's capable hands. Trading searing guitar licks with Slash on Thin Lizzy's "Emerald," Frehley seems born again, clearly enjoying the competition and beautifully sculpted twin leads.

While the world doesn't need another version of "Wild Thing," this savory remake by Frehley and Lita Ford captures the raw vitality and untamed spirit of the original, and the furious, groove-mongering locomotion and stop-on-a-dime direction changes of Led Zeppelin's "Bring It On Home" bursts forth with bluesy urges, proving that Frehley has lost none of his chops. Packing an even greater wallop is a rugged, gutsy version of Free's "Fire and Water," which finds Frehley and Paul Stanley – putting forth a commanding vocal performance here – of KISS mending fences.

Working alongside acolytes John 5 and Pearl Jam's Mike McCready, Frehley injects some modern sonic testosterone into KISS favorites "Cold Gin" and "Parasite," reveling in their darker qualities and punching them around some. Origins Vol. 1 isn't essential, and sometimes, Frehley is too faithful to the source material. Nevertheless, Origins Vol. 1 is a fun, nostalgic trip with an array of stinging riffs and piercing solos that attempts to explain how Ace became Ace. And because of all that, it's not a bad placeholder for the next Frehley solo record.
– Peter Lindblad

Massive 60s and 70s Rock Photo Archive Hits The Auction Block

The Who 1965
September 2015 -  Backstage Auctions is proud to present one of the most historic rock photo archive auctions featuring thousands of vintage images of the British music scene from the 1960s and 1970s.

The collection consists of well over 20,000 historic negatives, slides and transparencies featuring some of the most iconic musicians and bands of all time. Almost exclusively comprised of film from the 1960s and 1970s, this material comes direct from John Halsall and was once part of the core archive of a London based photo agency. After having been professionally stored for the past 35 years, the world can now witness the unearthing of a visually magnificent and historically significant archive that has no equal.

This collection is divided in just under 500 individual lots and will be offered with a full transfer of rights, which makes this material not only collectible but also commercially appealing and exceptionally valuable.

The Grateful Dead 1970
As with any high quality collection, this archive is well-represented by the various decades and genres that ultimately transformed and created the history of rock, pop and punk music.

From the 1950s the collection offers attractive lots by several of the Jazz, Pop and Country greats such as Duke Ellington, Fats Domino, Charlie Mingus, Sidney Bechet, The Andrew Sisters, Nat King Cole, Tony Bennett, Dean Martin, Johnny Cash, Bill Haley & The Comets and Gene Vincent.

Otis Redding 1966
The roaring 60s consume a large part of the auction. From teen heart-throbs such as the Bee Gees, Beach Boys, Dave Clark 5, Sonny & Cher and The Walker Brothers, to R&B giants such as James Brown, The Crystals, Martha & The Vendellas, Otis Redding, Wilson Pickett and The Supremes.

It is however the Rock & Roll portion that truly elevates this collection to peerless heights. In particular the thousands of never-before-seen photos of The Rolling Stones and The Who is what makes this archive one for the ages. 

Equally significant are lots by The Animals, The Band, Jeff Beck, The Byrds, Blind Faith, Cream, Eric Clapton, Bob Dylan, Grateful Dead, Jimi Hendrix, The Kinks, The Mamas & The Papas, The Move, Them and Pink Floyd.  

Mick Jagger 1964
Robert Plant 1979
The 1970s is the next decade that consumes the other large part of the auction, fueled by incredible collections from many of the A-List of Rock such as Led Zeppelin, Queen, David Bowie, Black Sabbath, Mountain, New York Dolls, Sweet, Thin Lizzy, T. Rex and Frank Zappa

Complementing the diverse 70s are fantastic lots from the Punk era (Sex Pistols, The Clash, Blondie, Iggy Pop, Siouxsie & The Banshees, The Jam, The Stranglers), Pop giants (ABBA, The Carpenters, Neil Diamond, The Police, Dire Straits) to the early days of Heavy-Metal (AC/DC, Iron Maiden, Def Leppard).

The collection comes to a conclusion in the early 1980s with exceptional lots from some of the legendary New-Wave (The Tourists, Pretenders, Ian Dury), Ska (Madness) and Reggae (Peter Tosh) performers.

Sex Pistols March 21, 1977 with Sid Vicious at Notre Dame Hall - London
Rounding out the archive are several impressive festival collections (Isle of Wight, Knebworth, Reading, Bickershaw, Glad Rag Balls and others) to over 30 lots from various “Top of the Pops” and “Ready, Set, Go!”  television episodes aired between the mid-60s to 1982.

Collection Highlights

Highlighted below are what we consider to be the Top Five collections to be featured in the auction. Of course it was hard to pick just five, but read on and you will get a sense of why these collections are high on our list.

Rolling Stones 1965
The Rolling Stones - simply because of the sheer volume (almost 5,000 negatives) and the fact that 75% of it is dated between 1963 and 1969. It provides the a most comprehensive visual documentation of their TV appearances, live shows, formal and candid photo sessions and their years of touring.

The Who 1965
The Who - very much for the same reason as with The Stones.  With almost 3,000 negatives, of with more than half from the 60s, this collection presents an insight into their high profile and public lives. 


Cream 1969
Eric Clapton – and in particular the collection of photos of Cream and Blind Faith, which include highly illusive images of club shows, rehearsals and candid photo sessions. The many addition lots of Eric Clapton with Delaney & Bonnie, as well as his early years a solo artist makes this overall a most comprehensive collection of the vintage Clapton era.

Jimi Hendrix ca. 1966 UK
Professional Photo Shoot
Jimi Hendrix - just when one would think that every Hendrix photo that was ever made has already been discovered and seen by ‘the world’, this archive offers 175 jaw-dropping new images, from photo sessions and candid moments, to TV appearances, rehearsals and live shows.

The 5th artist is a true toss-up between Pink Floyd (for the Syd Barrett content), Otis Redding (for the amazing live and backstage photos of several of his U.K. shows) and Black Sabbath (because it documents the first few years of their career through a series of stunning photo sessions and live shows).


Collections worthy of more than a quick glance

The Jeff Beck Group 1967 with Rod Steward and Ron Wood
The Jeff Beck Group 1967 with Rod
Stewart and Ron Wood
What comes to mind initially is a collection of almost 800 Rolling Stones negatives (!) taken from their first tour of Ireland, which lasted exactly 3 days (January 6-8, 1965). To take that many photos means that you have documented nearly every plane, train and bus ride, hotel stay, breakfast, lunch and dinner, rehearsal and concert, dressing room and backstage moment from that tour…and this collection in fact has done just that.

The second is more an ‘angle’ than a specific artist. Perhaps the most unique element of this archive is that it captures so many ‘big name’ artists at a time when they were so young. And with that comes the other aspect…so many of the photos are deeply personal as they show these artists at home, in their backyard, on the road, in a dressing room, even in the hospital. What stands out – and we could do a great photo collage – is;

•         Keith Moon at home with wife & kids
•         Bill Wyman at home with wife & kids
•         Pete Townshend visiting his manager’s office
•         The Bee Gees at home with wives / girlfriends
•         Jimi Hendrix in rehearsal
•         Cream on the couch of their management office
•         Mick Jagger looking at a "peeking" fan 
•         Otis Redding getting ready for a show in London
•         Marc Bolan and his girlfriend with newborn son 
•         David Bowie on the floor in his apartment
•         Jeff Beck with his buddies (Stewart and Wood) 
•         Johnny Cash with wife & son
•         Roy Orbison with wife & son
•         Ozzy Osbourne dropping his pants  
•         Sonny & Cher in the worlds most "dizziest" outfits  
•         Diana Ross & The Supremes first UK visit
•         Mama Cass Elliot in her London hotel room
•         George Martin (The Beatles producer) at home

David Bowie ca. 1969
About John Halsall

John Halsall started London Features and was formed in 1969 and initially began as a tool for the syndication of John's

John Halsall - London Features Press Pass 1974
personal freelance articles and the photographs taken by his photographer/ co-director. By the 1970s it because apparent that, as far as rock music was concerned, London had become the Capital of the World and many of the foreign publications that had used Halsall as their foreign correspondent were either opening their own offices in London or financing a London based staff.

As time passed, the need for Halsall’s interviewing and writing obligations diminished but the need for on the ground photographers was growing, so LFI (London Features International) added photographers, opened additional dark rooms and a proper studio, and soon came into its own as an established agency.

Halsall interviewing Carl Wilson
of the Beach Boys in 1973
LFI became the largest agency in its field and the competition conceded; most sold their collections to LFI complete with rights as did many independent photographers. Halsall, being a businessman first, recognized the value and opportunity in the images and began to personally purchase the collections and assimilate them into the LFI library. 

Decades later, LFI became the victim of the “digital revolution” and the rise of such well funded giants as Getty and Shutterstock.  LFI was sold in 2005 and Halsall retired along with his amazing library of images. The collection being presented at auction is the personal collection and historical archive of John Halsall.


Auction Information

The Photo Archive Auction will have a special VIP Preview beginning on September 19th, 2015. The bidding will begin on September 26th and run through October 4th, 2015.

To register for your All Access VIP Auction Pass click here:  VIP REGISTRATION








DVD Review: Eric Clapton – Planes, Trains and Eric

DVD Review: Eric Clapton – Planes, Trains and Eric
Eagle Rock Entertainment
All Access Rating: B+

Eric Clapton - Planes, Trains and Eric 2014
Japan won't be seeing much of Eric Clapton anymore, that is if the blues-rock guitar legend sticks to his plan to retire from touring when he hits 70 years of age next spring.

Worn out from the rigors of traveling across the globe and performing in far-flung locales for years, Clapton has earned some much-needed rest, and if that means the end of playing in perhaps his favorite place on earth, so be it. Clapton will miss the Land of the Rising Sun, though.

That much is apparent from "Planes, Trains and Eric," an intimate and revealing new documentary film from Eagle Rock Entertainment that follows ol' "Slowhand" on the Far and Middle Eastern leg of his 2014 World Tour, a bittersweet sense of finality hanging over the proceedings.

During an incandescent acoustic reading of "Layla," one of 13 live full live performances of Clapton favorites included here, Clapton expresses his fondness for Japan, adding, "I've been coming here since before some of you were born." His deep respect for the kindness and integrity of its people shining through in reflective and unguarded interviews with Clapton, with much attention paid to his enduring friendship with his concert promoter in Japan, Mister Udo, who Clapton says helped him through "the dark days."

These are happier times for Clapton, who leads his band here through a vigorous, stirring rendition of "Pretending" that simmers and smolders, while "I Shot the Sheriff" protests peacefully and quietly, "Wonderful Tonight" glows and sparkles, and rollicking versions of "Tell The Truth," "Crossroads" and "Key to the Highway" swing and roll with bluesy abandon – all of it played with both a freewheeling, if also somewhat restrained, spirit, an undeniably strong group chemistry and sunny warmth. At times, Clapton seems to turn the stage into a homey back porch, just strumming and picking away at his guitar in front of a circle of friends, but there are other moments where he is still electrifying, displaying that deft, lightning-quick touch and preternatural feel that still leave worshippers slack-jawed.

The rest of "Planes, Trains and Eric" is as much an artfully pieced together tour diary as anything else. There are brief snippets of rehearsal and sound-check footage, meaningful behind-the-scenes interaction, informal presentations related to Clapton's 200th show in Japan – as well as a mention of his 86th performance at Budokan, the most ever by a foreign artist – and scenes from cars, airports and train stations that help the narrative flow. Candid interviews with drummer Steve Gadd, Hammond organ player Paul Carrack, bassist Nathan East, keyboardist Chris Stainton and backing vocalists Michelle John and Shar White reveal much about the inner workings of Clapton and those musicians in his employ, adding rather wistful commentary on the possibility that this just might be it for him.

Blind Faith, Cream, The Yardbirds, Derek and the Dominos, John Mayall's Bluesbreakers, not to mention his own multi-platinum solo work ... that's an impressive musical history to say the least. "Planes, Trains and Eric" doesn't get into all that, nor does it delve into those scandalous "dark days" Clapton spoke of to provide some sense of context for those words, choosing instead to stay in the moment and give a sense of what it's like for an aging superstar to let go gracefully, with dignity and good humor.
– Peter Lindblad

CD Review: Orange Goblin – Healing Through Fire

CD Review: Orange Goblin – Healing Through Fire
Candlelight Records
All Access Rating: A

Orange Goblin -Healing Through Fire 2014
Time hasn't diminished the medicinal powers of Orange Goblin's 2007 album Healing Through Fire.

Slightly crispy and fuzzy around the edges, its bluesy, motoring riffage doused in gasoline and lit on fire, Healing Through Fire is a blazing stoner-metal arson for the great unwashed that never got a proper promotional tour Stateside – something singer Ben Ward has always regretted.

Their only Sanctuary Records release, Healing Through Fire was the band's sixth LP. Falling into obscurity, as Orange Goblin went on hiatus until 2011, it became a rare find recently for Goblin obsessives. Reissued by Candlelight Records with rampaging, greasy live renditions of the album's most infectious tracks, the muscular, writhing "The Ballad of Solomon Eagle" and the rugged, down-tuned harbinger of chugging evil "They Come Back," Healing Through Fire deserved a better fate, especially considering how dramatically it relives the suffering, grave fear and reeking death of The Great Plague and London's Great Fire of 1666.

Evocative and captivating lyrically, the words delivered with Ward's bestial vocal roar, Healing Through Fire is a furnace of an album, managing to sound wide and heavy on a hot and nasty "Hot Knives and Open Sores" and the brawny, seismic "Vagrant Stomp," while never succumbing to sluggishness. Even the punishing doom-metal pounding of "Cities of Frost," this swinging sledgehammer smashed repeatedly into a brick wall, is delivered with rage-filled intensity, and the relentless groove-mongering of "The Ale House Braves" circles with dangerous intent before charging into the breach without hesitation.

In spirit, Orange Goblin could be the hell-spawned bastard child of Motorhead, but on the smoldering "Beginner's Guide to Suicide," with its slide guitar, smoggy organ and pained harmonica, they play dirty blues with the devilish charm of Cream – rumbling, demented and psychedelic. Although Joe Hoare's guitar leads throughout Healing Through Fire are sharp and searing, just as his riffs are meaty and brutal, it's his expressive soloing on "Beginner's Guide to Suicide" that steals the show.

Until Orange Goblin's next studio full-length, which is apparently under construction, this violent revisiting of one of the band's surefire classics should mollify the pitchfork-wielding villagers waiting for more from these shaggy metal bikers. Let the Healing ... begin.
– Peter Lindblad


CD Review: Vista Chino – Peace

Vista Chino – Peace
Napalm Records
All Access Review: A-

Vista Chino - Peace 2013
The names have been changed to protect … well, the brand. After stoner-metal giants Kyuss called it a day in 1995, the group’s following grew exponentially and calls for a reunion grew louder and louder as the years passed.

In 2011, John Garcia, Brant Bjork and Nick Oliveri toured as Kyuss Lives! Conspicuous by his absence, Josh Homme, having long ago moved on to Queens of the Stone Age, wanted no part of the much-anticipated reunion. More than that, however, he didn’t want anybody else using the Kyuss name either, and he, along with another former member, Scott Reeder, set in motion legal action to stop them from using it. Evidently, Homme was going out of his way to make damn sure this version didn’t tarnish the Kyuss legacy with some half-baked cash-grabbing nonsense that failed to include him.

Being the hardy desert folk they are, Garcia and Bjork, who played with Sabbath-influenced, muscle-car fanatics Fu Manchu for many years, have decided to carry on under a new name. Say hello to Vista Chino. Tuning down their guitars to deeply resonant levels, while still allowing shape-shifting melodies to drift in and out of a fuzz-toned haze, Vista Chino concocts a murky and strangely intoxicating brew on the musical sweat lodge that is the surging Peace, with the grumbling malevolence and guitar witchcraft of “Dragona Dragona” casting a particularly irresistible doom-laden spell.

Crispy around the edges, Peace is not the work of burnouts living off their past reputations, even if the record’s dank atmosphere is as smoky and close as any seedy drug house. A swirling maelstrom of burrowing, evil guitars, pummeling drums and splashing cymbals, rumbling rhythms and Garcia’s strong, illuminating vocals cutting through the sonic fog, Peace is thick, heady stuff, indeed, but it’s not exactly pretty.

Insidiously infectious and utterly compelling, “Adara” and “As You Wish” ride on hypnotic, writhing movements and grimy riffs into dark, scary places, while the dirty bomb of distortion known as “Planets 1 &2” drives Hawkwind’s space-rock aesthetic down to bad interplanetary neighborhoods and slides into a slow-motion slipstream that drowns all who follow it there in sludge and bong resin. There’s a bluesy feel to Peace that is inescapable, but it’s a dangerous, rough-and-tumble mutation of Cream’s heavy psychedelic visions, as the jazzy “Dark and Lovely” swings and tunnels ever deeper into a disordered mind, its grooves becoming more engorged as every second passes.

It all leads up to the tempest-tossed, mythic 13:25 closer “Acidize … the Gambling Moose,” a gloomy, gathering blues-rock storm whose immense winds blow trash and paper all over a lonely highway, some of it getting stuck in a dead tree’s spindly branches. Portending doom, it’s like a soundtrack for a Day of the Dead march in Mexico, as Vista Chino slows to a seductive crawl and a guitar solo pierces the gloaming of a truly evil-sounding love song. Vista Chino’s fevered imagination has finally gotten the best of them in the most surprising and interesting ways. They let songs and arrangements unfold organically, whereas Queens of the Stone Age seems hell-bent on making incongruous ideas fit, even though they never will. Vista Chino has its revenge. http://www.napalmrecords.com/
– Peter Lindblad 

CD Review: Dust – Hard Attack/Dust


CD Review: Dust – Hard Attack/Dust
Kama Sutra/Legacy
All Access Review: A-

The cult following that’s grown up around Dust is about to get bigger. That’s because Sony Legacy has seen fit to reissue the proto-metal legends’ only two albums, 1971’s Dust and 1972’s Hard Attack, two highly influential documents of heavy blues-driven rock that had been out of print for eons. Time and neglect haven’t eroded their extraordinary power one bit.

Dust was, quite possibly, a bit too hasty in calling it quits so soon after the release of Hard Attack, but they all moved on in impressive fashion, hardly taking a moment to reflect on their brief existence. They were only teenagers when they formed, but the precocious threesome of Richie Wise, Marc Bell and Kenny Aaronson – plus Kenny Kerner, who helped out with production and songwriting – had a loud, fully-realized sonic vision in mind for Dust, but it wasn’t getting them anywhere. So, they parted, and Dust was history. Wise, the band’s guitarist, singer and main songwriter, went on to produce the first two KISS records with Kerner, his partner. 

Aaronson did session work for Dust’s label, Kama Sutra, and toured with just about everybody who was anybody in the ‘70s, ‘80s and ‘90s, including Bob Dylan, Edgar Winter, Billy Idol and Billy Squier, to name but a few. He also played with both the New York band Stories, who struck gold with the chart-topping single “Brother Louie,” and the short-lived super group HSAS, which stood for Hagar, Schon, Aaronson and Schrieve. And as for Bell, the drummer, he joined The Ramones in 1978. You might know him better as Marky Ramone.

Had the world known what they'd accomplish post-Dust, perhaps those records released in the dark ages of American heavy metal wouldn’t have fallen on deaf ears. And maybe, just maybe, Dust would have lived a little longer, changing the course of rock history forever. Alas, it was not to be, and with serious concerns about their management, their label and their future, Dust called it a day and everybody scattered to the four winds. And Dust and Hard Attack, they just sat on a shelf gathering … well, dust.

Remastered for maximum impact, the sound of these lost treasures – both the product of good, solid songwriting – has been cleaned spotless and is fuller and richer than the original recordings. Hard Attack, in particular, comes on like a hurricane, with the untamed energy of “Ivory” – a rolling tank of an instrumental – and “All in All” whipping around as violently and furiously as any of the wild storms brewed up by The Who or Cream. Heavy weather is experienced on “Learning to Die” and “Full Away/So Many Times,” as well, with Aaronson’s muscular bass and Bell’s galloping drums racing with the wind. And the Sabbath-like “Suicide” swings a big hammer, one that could drive spikes through railroad ties.

Variety spices up Hard Attack, however, as the exquisitely arranged ballad “Thusly Spoken” – blanketed in gorgeous strings and twinkling piano – might be the most sophisticated pop music Burt Bacharach never wrote. Golden flecks of bent steel pedal sparkle in the quiet acoustic country rumination “I Been Thinkin’” and its kissing cousin “How Many Horses,” giving Hard Attack some tasty twang.   

Dust is the black sheep of the family, as “Love Me Hard,” “Chasin’ Ladies” and “Stone Woman” – all cut up by gliding, shooting stars of slide guitar – ramble on like Zeppelin in their prime. Nothing on either album, though, compares to the heavy, 9:53 psychedelic trip “From a Dry Camel” on Dust, a blustery, hallucinogenic dreamscape of alien shapes and a searing, extended guitar solo that goes deep into the recesses of the brain.

Handling dynamic shifts in tempo and mood with deft chops and synchronized charges into the breach, as a band, Dust was bold, adventurous and exceedingly confident of their abilities. Few would appreciate their talents when they were around. That’s what often happens with artists who are ahead of their time. But, eventually, the world catches up, and with this reissue, augmented by a fantastic selection of vintage memorabilia and photos, along with concise, but revealing, liner notes comprised of passionate remembrances by band members, it seems the time is right to reassess the impact Dust had on heavy metal. Get to your independent record store early on April 20 for a lush Record Store Day exclusive vinyl version of this archival treasure.
    Peter Lindblad

CD Review: Deep Purple – Live in Paris 1975


CD Review: Deep Purple – Live in Paris 1975
earMusic/Eagle Rock Entertainment
All Access Review: A-

Deep Purple - Live in Paris 1975 2013
The balance of power had already shifted within Deep Purple, and Ritchie Blackmore could read the writing on the wall. With the arrival of singer David Coverdale and bassist/vocalist Glenn Hughes, Deep Purple was entering a new phase, one that would see the band incorporating more of the northern English soul and R&B sensibilities of its newest members, while veering away from the cyclonic mix of nitro-burning hard rock and swirling classical music that Blackmore and others within Purple favored.

He didn't want to stick around to watch the transformation take hold. On April 17, 1975, the guitar icon, and one of the true architects of Deep Purple’s progressive sound, would play his last note for Deep Purple – that is until the Mark II lineup reunited for 1984’s Perfect Strangers album. He went out in a blaze of glory, as Blackmore’s high-voltage fretwork sends electricity shooting through the digitally remixed – and re-mastered from the original multi-track recordings – two-disc Live in Paris 1975, which documents that final Blackmore performance, prior to forming Rainbow, with amazing clarity and expansive volume. Recorded for optimum impact, Live in Paris 1975 actually benefits from the tension between Deep Purple’s warring camps, as that artistic push and pull fuels what is a dynamic, thrilling, once-in-a-lifetime performance from a band on the verge of big, sweeping changes. 

Sparks fly from the start as Deep Purple, absolutely on fire this particular night at the Palais des Sports in Paris, launches into hot-wired, frenzied versions of “Burn” and “Lady Double Dealer” that leave their witnesses gasping for air – the vigorous riffing and scorching, yet tricky, leads of Blackmore’s playing off Jon Lord’s dizzying organ maneuvers and the precision of Ian Paice’s stampeding drums. Just as feverish, “Stormbringer” is a power surge of insistent, hammering riffs and wailing vocals, loaded with Coverdale’s hairy-chested machismo and illuminated by Hughes’s starry croon. Blending so perfectly, the two give a smoldering, smoky rendering of “The Gypsy” here that offers a vision of what Deep Purple, Mark IV, had in store melodically for the world.

Having dispensed with some of their tighter, more compact material early on, Deep Purple embarked on long, extended jams the rest of the way, including the 20:09 “You Fool No One,” with its Cream-like, bluesy combustibility, a spellbinding organ intro from Lord and stunning drum and guitar soloing from Paice and Blackmore, respectively. Even longer and more abstract, with a playful nod to the theme from “2001: A Space Odyssey,” the classic “Space Truckin’” clocks in at 22:12, and after going into overdrive around the four-minute mark and flying around its familiar routes with reckless abandon and exuberance, Deep Purple goes off in various directions, expanding the possibilities of a song that’s never been bound by limits or borders – the sinewy funk of Hughes’s bass and his improvised singing, so clear and commanding, compelling the band to drive harder and soar higher, even if his lovelorn scatting seems somewhat out of place.

But this is Blackmore’s stage, and his playing is not just technically sound on this auspicious occasion, but it’s also fiery and impassioned. Along with painting the anguished, bluesy expression of “Mistreated,” Blackmore propels “Smoke on the Water” and the closer “Highway Star” – Coverdale lending that track a little more sexual heat than it had previously – ahead with searing six-string savagery and the occasional crazed arpeggio as Purple, its improvisational instincts as keen as ever, plows ahead, gathering momentum and driving both songs straight off the cliff without any fear of what awaits them below. Perhaps the most interesting facet of Live in Paris 1975, however, is the 24 minutes of in-depth interview recordings tacked on as a bonus feature. Set against a backdrop of the music directly piped in from Live in Paris 1975, it’s utterly fascinating to hear members of Deep Purple offer their perspectives on what was happening within the band at the time, while also hashing over studio sessions that birthed some of Mark IIIs best work and offering great insight into their creative process. 

The transition was not an easy one for Deep Purple, and substance abuse would eventually tear the Mark IV edition apart, but not before Tommy Bolin arrived to let everyone get a glimpse of his prodigious talent on the vastly underrated Come Taste the Band. On the vital Live in Paris 1975, however, Blackmore made damn sure nobody forgot who made Deep Purple a household name. (www.eagle-rock.com)

– Peter Lindblad

Into the fire again with Don Dokken


Singer tells all about state of the band, ‘Broken Bones’
By Peter Lindblad
Dokken 2012
George Lynch and Jeff Pilson are out, drummer Mick Brown is still in, and Don Dokken is firmly in charge of one of the biggest bands to ever come out of the ‘80s glam-metal scene. Joined by guitarist Jon Levin and bassist Sean McNabb, the singer – and guitarist, having recently picked the instrument back up – has the good ship Dokken pointed in the right direction, with a new album in Broken Bones that might just be the best record the band’s made since Under Lock and Key, or even Tooth and Nail.
Mysterious and reflective at times, Broken Bones is immersed in luxuriant, yet impactful sound, and the intoxicating melodies – always present in everything Dokken’s ever done – are disarming, even as Levin launches into the kind of heavy, thermonuclear riffing and dynamic, agile solos that Lynch would be proud to call his own. It is still Dokken after all, with Brown’s brawling drums and McNabb’s flexible bass forming a pliable backbone in support. Though far removed from the heady days of platinum records and sold-out arenas, Dokken isn’t dead yet, and Broken Bones seems to have breathed new life into the band, with Don, singing more soulfully than he has in a long time, penning some of the most provocative and mature lyrics of his career – see the apocalyptic imagery and utter futility in the raging, anti-war lead single “Empire” for proof of his convictions.
Never afraid to speak his mind, Don Dokken unloads about a variety of subjects in this recent interview, conducted close to the release date for Broken Bones, which comes out Sept. 25 on Frontiers Records. Downloading, the making of Broken Bones, his own difficult recovery from vocal surgery, his thorny relationship with Lynch and the family tragedy that spurred his interest in charitable causes – all of it is fair game for a singer who is determined not to go down without a fight.
While the new record definitely has elements of the signature Dokken sound, it seems smokier, even exotic at times. Call me crazy, but it sounds Zeppelin-esque, especially on “Victim of the Crime.” Do you agree?
DD: Look at “Waterfall,” that weird drum beat … I’ve never done anything like that, or have a timing change in the middle of a solo – I’ve never done that in my career. But yeah, Jon and I wrote the record, and I just finally said, “I know what everybody wants, and they want the same thing we did last year or a few years ago, which sounded very ‘80s like.” And I just said, “Jon, I can’t keep painting the same picture.” I mean, what’s the point? I hate it when people say, “I wish this record was like Tooth and Nail.” Ok, then go buy Tooth and Nail.
Was it tough for you to do that last record, knowing that Jon wanted you to go back to that old Dokken sound?
Dokken - Broken Bones 2012
DD: Anytime somebody wants me to go back to anything, I say, “I’m not really down with that.” But, we did it. It was fine, but when they told me to do the same thing [this time], I said, “I refuse.” I mean, I was really being a dick about it. I didn’t want anybody near the music. I didn’t want the record company to hear one iota of the music until it was done. I’m not going to have some guy sitting in an office tell me what he likes or doesn’t like. I don’t think [French impressionist painter Claude] Monet, when he sat out in the garden painting in France, had some guy standing over his shoulder saying, “I think that needs some more blue or a little more yellow. Now it’s got too much light in there.” It doesn’t work that way, man. I think a song is a painting, you know. I don’t think that it’s right. I understand where our bread is buttered and Dokken fans and all that, but you know, we’ve done all that. I said what I had to say as far as that. I want to stretch my wings out a little bit, that’s the only way I can put it. I wasn’t trying to make a throwback record. I just wanted to put some ‘60s kind of harmonies on there. I love Cream and those Zeppelin kind of grooves … I just like that. I can’t help it. I’m getting old, man.
We all are …
DD: I’m still the singer, so it’s going to sound like Dokken, so what’s the problem? I didn’t write differently to be different. It’s just what was coming out of my head.
You produced the new record, which is something you also did with XYZ. Is it easier producing your own band, as opposed to another group?
DD: No, it’s much harder. I produced Great White’s first record, and I found them in a garage. So, I discovered that band – Great White and XYZ. And it’s easier when you’re on the outside because you can just say, “Hey, try that,” or “Try this.” And if it doesn’t work, “Try this.” But when you go to actually play it or sing it and listen back, you go, “Uh, I don’t know.” I mean, honestly, this record, we were getting ready to go to Florida to mix it, and the last day the album was completely finished, and I told my engineer, “Um, three of the songs, I’m not happy with the lyrics.” He said, “You’re kidding.” I said, “No, I can do better than that.” And at 4 o’clock in the morning I was changing shit. And it turned out better, you know. If you have a problem with that stuff, after so much time goes by, I have to make changes and no one will say that it’s better. So, I had to get away from it, and I was glad we were touring that weekend, so that I could get out and get away from the record for those two days and come back to it fresh. I had that luxury this time, you know. After a while, I just wanted to be done with it.
It seems like you’re feeling that you’re free of the expectations people have of you and free of the Dokken sound of old. Do you feel that way?
DD: I mean, Jon did some solos that were kind of Michael Schenker-ish at times, and I told Jon, “You can’t live in the shadow of George Lynch, and I can’t live in the shadow of the millions of records that I sold 30 years ago.” I can’t do it anymore. I can’t live in this box. I’ve said what I had to say and I want to move on to some new and interesting music. And I said, “We’re taking a chance.” And if people say, “Oh, it doesn’t sound like Dokken,” so be it. I took my chance, and there are some classic-sounding Dokken songs on there. Obviously, I must have done something right, because I haven’t had many bad reviews yet.
I think it’s a great Dokken album in that there’s a great variety on it. I don’t know if it’s because some of the atmospheres are different. I was also thinking that Levin seems to have such a great feel for grooves, and that’s especially prevalent on “Best of Me” and “Blind.” Did that have an effect on this record?
DD: Well, I’ve been coaching him for a long time to let him find his own way. He’s not just trying to emulate George. And then I kind of tried to educate him, because he was in high school when Dokken came out, and Dokken was one of his favorite bands. But I gave him a CD and I go, “Listen to Led Zeppelin II. Just put this in your car and listen to it. Now, listen to Houses of the Holy. Check that out. Listen to ‘Kashmir’ …” You know, “Listen to this, listen to that, check out some of these songs,” just trying to ingrain a broader spectrum of writing. And I told him, I said, “Jon, there is not one Dokken CD in my car.” “That’s weird,” he said. Well, I don’t need to listen to it. If I listen to it, I’ll start plagiarizing myself. It infects you, you know.
So, we just started listening to a lot of stuff from way back, ‘60s and ‘70s, just thousands [of songs], and as a producer, I slip in different stacks of harmonies and different arrangements, different time signatures. I just wanted an album where I wanted all the songs to kind of stand alone. And I think I accomplished that, but if I didn’t, I at least tried. I gave it my best shot. I like an album to be [good from] top to bottom, and not have it be like, “Well, that’s a good song,” and then the next song you’re starting to fast forward, and then, “Oh, this song is pretty good, but I don’t like the chorus – fast forward.” I hate that. I do it, I’m guilty of it. I hate it when you hear a killer song on the radio, and you buy the CD, and there are like two good songs and the rest is a bunch of filler. That really annoys me. I can think of a lot of bands that are doing that these days.
It doesn’t seem to be an album-oriented world anymore.
DD: No, I understand. The world has changed. There are no more platinum or gold records on your walls, because people can’t sell those amounts of records anymore because as soon as a record comes out, it’s on file-sharing. I understand that. It still doesn’t mean you should write crappy shit. At the end of the day, when I’m dead and gone, at least I can leave a legacy, a body of music that people will love.
With this one, you’ve done that. I really like “Empire,” the lead track and the first single. It’s got those familiar searing guitars Dokken fans are used to, and some not so optimistic lyrics. Explain the inspiration behind that song and how the music for it was conceived.
DD: Well, you know, we wrote like fast, burning kind of riffs, but we were at the house here, the guesthouse on my property in the country, and it has a studio. And I have this flat screen on the wall, and every day, I’d take a break, watch some TV for a while, and it was just the Syrian government is slaughtering their own people, and Pakistan was bailed out, and we got rid of Muammar Gaddafi, but they hate our guts and they’re murdering our own soldiers, and I just got so pissed. That was why I came up with the line, “What do you have in the end? You’re burning empires.” So, you’re going to destroy your own country and your own people, so that way in the end, what do you got? You got nothing. You’ve got nothing left. It doesn’t make any sense to me. It’s mind-boggling. So it inspired me to write it.
I don’t write political songs usually, but “Empire” is just about, “You guys have lost your minds, you know?” They’re killing everybody. In the year 2012, you’d think we’d be a little more spiritually enlightened by now. Sadly, it seems like we’re going backwards, and all we do is keep coming up with new ways of killing each other. And this morning, they killed the U.S. ambassador [Chris Stevens]. They just blew him up. And the point of that was? It frustrates me. I guess when I was younger, we got famous, you get caught up in the limousines and the girls and you’re staying in four-star hotels, you’ve got a private jet … it’s narcissistic. To be famous, there’s some narcissism in there and ego and you don’t really concern yourself with all that crap going on. You’re just wrapped in your own little rock star world. But when I got older and you have children, you start realizing there’s some crazy shit going on out there.
You’ve definitely touched on some different lyrical subject matter on this record that you haven’t addressed in the past – “Blind” being that way as well.
DD: “Blind,” too. Yeah. Like I wrote that first line in “Empire”: “I sit above and watch below as we burn this city down” – it’s actually a metaphor of somebody standing on a hill watching their town annihilated, and for what? And the line that says, “A child only sees the gun as the trigger of disease.” Well, it is. Children are innocent, but it just frustrates me, so I had to write about it and get it out of my system – “Blind” and all that stuff. It just seems that it’s getting worse, and it just frustrates me. I could just ignore it all and go, “I’m just going to sit up here at my estate in Beverly Hills and it’s not my problem.” But I can’t do that. I feel morally responsible to at least voice my opinion and my outrage and frustration to people, and what’s a better vehicle than to do it through music.
Did you want the music to reflect that as well?
DD: No. I mean, it’s weird. Sometimes I write … the way I write, I just write stories. And I have a tape recorder. Everyone has always told me that, “Your stuff is always on that tape recorder,” and they call it the “Book of Don.” And I’ve got literally hours and hours and hours of me just babbling into a tape recorder. Like, I’ll get up in the middle of the night to go pee – and I hate that when you’re half asleep – and I always get inspired about 3 o’clock in the morning. I asked my doctor about that once. I said I usually get inspired when I’m half asleep, and he goes, “That’s what’s called a pure stream of consciousness.” You’re not thinking about your kids or the car loans, and your relationships or your bills. You’re just kind of in a pure stream of consciousness, like in a meditative state, and that’s when the ideas come.” Wherever they come from in the universe, God or whatever you want to call it, your mind is wide open to receive the information.
The problem is you start to think, “Oh, that’s a killer riff.” I hear this guitar riff in my head and I think, “That’ll be awesome. I’ll remember that in the morning.” And you’re like, “How did that go again?” I hate that, and Jon does that, too. So, for this album, I said to Jon, “Okay, now Jon, we’re going to both buy little tape recorders, we’ll put them next to our beds, and if you have an idea, just blurt it out. I don’t care if it’s just a little riff …” So, Jon had his guitar in his bedroom and this little amplifier, and he’d plug it in at 3 o’clock in the morning and wake his chick up, and he’ll turn the tape recorder on and say, “I’ve just got to bang out this quick little riff.” The next day, he’ll call me on the phone and say, “Hey, check this out.” And sometimes I’ll say, “Eh, that’s all right.” But for a couple of songs he wrote like that, I said, “Hey, that’s a really killer riff, except I wrote that 30 years ago – that song ‘Sleepless Nights’ on Tooth and Nail.” I have to say, “Jon, stop listening to those Dokken records. They’re brainwashing you.”
Sometimes you get something down that late at night and you wake up the next morning wondering, “What the hell is that?”
DD : Yeah, I went to bed thinking, “That’s brilliant.” And then I wake up and listen and I go, “Ugh, what was I thinking.” It’s a long process. We wrote 30 songs for this record, and we just narrowed it down to the 12 best. It’s a real hard call to figure it out, because the record company says we have to take one song off for a bonus track in Japan, and my opinion of bonus tracks is that they’re always the leftover songs that aren’t any good. And they call it a bonus, and I said, “I don’t want a shitty bonus [track]. I’m happy with all the songs. So how do we take a good song and take it off the record? I’m not happy about this.” And we ended up taking a song called “Can’t Touch This Love,” and it’s really a classic … kind of like “Just Got Lucky” meets “The Hunter.” It’s pretty cool, but we had to take it off the record. And it’s a shame. People can buy it if they want the Japanese DVD – we did a “making of” film while making this record. So that’s a bonus track, and you have to put a bonus track in Japan because the records over there cost $8 more than in America.
Did you ever have a song like that on any of the older albums from Dokken that you had to leave off?
DD: Yeah, it was “Dancin’ the Irish Song” and there was something else. I put two bonus tracks on Japanese albums a couple of years ago on one of my records. I can’t remember what it was. It might have been Erase the Slate. There are a couple of killer songs that we had to take off and use them for bonus tracks, and that was a bummer, because they’re never going to hear these tracks here because they’re never going to buy the import. But you have to do it, because records are still too expensive, $15, $17 in America and a record costs $25 over there. So, to encourage the fans not to buy the American version and save $8, you’ve got to give them bonus tracks. It’s just business, you know. 
You had vocal surgery in 2010. Your voice seems to have come through it remarkably well. What kind of rehabilitation did you have to do and how would you compare it now to what it was in the ‘80s?
DD: Well, you know, I’ll never be able to sing as high as I could back then. I mean, I could name a dozen singers who can’t sing like they did back then. It’s like a car. You put 100,000 or 200,000 miles on it, it doesn’t run like it did when it was brand new. I’ve done 7,000 to 8,000 shows in my career, but yeah, I tore my vocal cord in Germany. It was my fault. You know, most bands are two days on, one day off or three days on, two days off. We ended up doing 27 shows in 34 days I think, and I started having this funny taste in my mouth, like iron. And I realized it was blood. And I went, “Oh, shit.”
You know, I was in Germany and I went to the hospital, and the doctor went to an EMT guy, and he looked at my throat and he said, “You tore your vocal cord.” And I still had 10 shows to go, and he said, “Stop.” And I didn’t. I kept going, and that was it. And I thought, “Okay, I’ll just heal. I’ll just stay here.” But it just got worse and worse and worse and worse, and I had the surgery, and I thought, “Okay, three months from now, I’ll be good.” And I started playing again, and I was singing like crap. And people on the Internet were going, “Boy, Don can’t sing anymore,” or “He’s lost it,” and well, I can’t deny it. So, I was really struggling to try to hit any of the notes, and people see it on the Internet, on YouTube, and “Ish … he ain’t what he used to be.” It’s depressing. It’s like saying, “Here’s a guitar. It’s out of tune. Now go play.” So I just told the band, “We have to stop.”
On this record, which we started writing last September, I didn’t sing a note the first six months. I mean, I had to go back to my old vocal teacher, warm-ups … I had to put three humidifiers in all the rooms of my house to keep the house humid all the time – warm up for an hour, do scales, keep my mouth shut, quit smoking … blah, blah, blah. You know, don’t talk a lot. I’ve got more at stake, so I’ve been doing press for four days straight, six hours a day and I’m horse from doing it. And sometimes, we get together and I go to sing a song, and I say, “You know, guys, I can hit the note, but my voice will have a little too much buzz in it.” And some days, Jon will go, “Wow. Your voice sounds like it did on Tooth and Nail. Your voice is nice and clean and clear.” And I go, “That’s the way I like it.” But it is hit and miss – sometimes you have good days, and I’ve had bad days where I couldn’t figure out why [my voice] was doing what it was doing and it wasn’t good. The insanity of the thing is after I spent tens of thousands of dollars on my voice, it turned out to be hit or miss because I was snoring. I was overly tired, because we were working 14-hour days, flying to gigs, getting two to three hours of sleep and going to Europe. We flew 16 hours to Bulgaria, and we did the M3 Fest where we had two hours of sleep. We sucked at that show, but when you’re really tired, you snore. And when you snore, it’s like … haven’t you gone to a club and you’re trying to talk to somebody over a loud band, and you wake up the next day and your voice is all raspy?
Yeah, absolutely.
DD: And you wake up and you’re hoarse, and you try and talk loud for conversation. Well, that’s what snoring is. So I had to go get sleep studies done, with the cameras on me watching me sleep, and as it turned out, I was snoring with sleep apnea and that was trashing the cords, too. So, that bites. But, I don’t snore anymore.
I didn’t realize that was something that could damage your vocal cords. Did you at all think back to when you sang rehearsals with the Scorpions for Blackout while Klaus Meine recovered from his vocal surgery?
DD: Yeah, it’s like I went through the same thing. And you know, when I sang on that, I was young. I mean, I was in my 20s and my voice was fresh and golden, and I hadn’t toured. I was a nobody, you know? And I had a virgin voice, basically. It had low miles. And the surgery Klaus had, he had like two or three surgeries in his career. Tom Keifer, he didn’t sing for three years.
Could you ever imagine taking that long off?
DD: Yeah, when we could play again, I was shocked. We played with Cinderella a year ago, and I said to Tom, “You sound exactly like you did in the ‘80s. What did you do?” He said, “Oh, man. I had to have surgeries, I couldn’t talk, I had to re-train my voice and sing differently” – he went through a whole thing for like seven years. And now he sounds awesome, better than ever. There are always people that are blessed – the Glenn Hughes’s of the world, the Bruce Dickinsons, the Ronnie James Dios. Those guys are blessed. They just open their mouths and it comes out and it sounds awesome. But, I don’t think I was blessed with that. I have my tonsils still. Most people don’t have their tonsils. I have my tonsils, I still have my adenoids, I have some bad sinuses, and the doctor said, “You’ve got everything a singer shouldn’t have. Your tonsils can get infected, you’re flying, you’re dehydrated, your sinuses are dripping, and your vocal cords get inflamed.” He goes, “You’re just getting hit every way – every direction, you’re getting hit and it disturbs your voice, and we just have to knock out the problems one at a time.” It took a long time.
What did you learn from working with Tom Werman and Roy Thomas Baker on Tooth and Nail and Neil Kernon on Under Lock and Key and Back for the Attack that you’ve incorporated into your own production work?
DD: Um, I was like a real “Dennis the Menace.” When I was working with Michael Wagener [producer for Dokken’s Breaking the Chains, Skid Row’s first album and Ozzy Osbourne’s No More Tears, he also mixed Metallica’s Master of Puppets], I’d ask, “Why are you using that mic? Why are you putting the mic there? Why are you doing that? Why are you putting the overheads over there?” And [Geoff] Workman, God rest his soul, he was a great engineer. He just passed away [2010]. With all these great guys, I just picked their brains. I’d go, “Why are you doing that? Why are you doing this? Why are you putting the mics there? Why are you using that mic?” I just learned over 30 years, and I owned my own recording studio for 10 years. I mean, besides other things, I produced the Dysfunctional album and recorded it in my studio and just did everything – recorded everything and put the mics on myself, and like I say, just years of experience to learn why, because I had all these great people telling me why … you know, “How come you can’t put this microphone on the kick drum?” And Michael would say, “Because this microphone has a lower register, and it picks up the kick drum better and it’s a tighter sound.” And I’d say, “Oh, okay. How come you’re using this?” And Michael would tell me, “Most people will put a mic on top of the snare drum.”
Michael always put one on top and the bottom to get the track, but the problem with two microphones that close together is they go out of phase and it sounds weird. And he showed me how to fix that by putting one out of phase, and putting the snare back in phase. It’s just decades and decades of all these tricks I learned. I think this album has a killer guitar sound, killer drum sound, great bass – it’s just a punchy record, you know. I wanted it punchy. I wanted it powerful. I wanted it loud.   
How did having Bob St. John [Extreme, Duran Duran, Collective Soul] and Wyn Davis [Black Sabbath, Dio, Whitesnake] do the mixing and Maor Appelbaum [Halford, Yngwie Malmsteen, Sepultura] as the engineer affect Broken Bones. How did the three of them affect the final product?
DD: Well, Wyn and I have been best friends for like 30 years, through the Dokken stuff and then my solo record, Up from the Ashes, which I love – it just came out at the wrong time. And my recording studio was literally a thousand yards from his recording studio. So we were always going back and forth from my studio to his, and then we started the record and we started working together, but then I was taking such a long time with the record. I kept pushing him back – like, “Okay, next month we’ll finish it,” and then, “No, I’m going out on tour. Okay, next month.” And then Wyn got booked.
He goes, “I’m booked solid, I can’t do this record.” So, I said, “Well, I guess I’ll do it myself.” And I was like, “Oh, shit. Now I’m really going to put pressure on myself.” So I ended up doing the record by myself, recording everything that was left at my house. And then we went to Bob St. John because Jon is good friends with the guys from Extreme, and he’d done Extreme, and Jon knew him. So he said, “Yeah. Meet me in Florida.” So I decided to go down to Florida to meet with him, and I decided to be the producer, and then with St. John, I wanted to get something new. I’m always using the same people over and over and over again, so I listened to Maor Applebaum’s records, and he seemed to know what the hell he was doing as far as making records loud. He does a lot of the heavy bands, or heavier, like Sepultura and bands like that. And I thought, “Well, with these songs, we’re not thrash metal or a speed-metal band. Our music is melodic hard rock, but I want the aggression from the mastering that he gets from these kinds of heavier bands. I thought it would be a good combination to get Applebaum to do the mastering, just as he approaches these bands like Sepultura.       
Why did it not work out with George and Jeff for a return to the classic Dokken lineup?
DD: Well, do you want the lie or do you want the truth? We’ll there’s about 20 versions from George – ‘I’m just an asshole, I want all the money and I’m hard to deal with.’ Well, that’s just about the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard in my life. I mean, Mick will tell you that … and Jeff. We got together. We were going to do it last year, and we were excited to do it, and it was going to be great, and we thought it would put the exclamation point on our career. We had an offer to make an extreme amount of money to do it, so that was nice. And the truth is we got back together and Mick flew down, we all met, and Jeff said, “I want to do this, but I’m committed to Foreigner for two years.” And I said, “Two years? That’s the last of that.”
I couldn’t sit around waiting for two years, so that’s the truth. I know George posted all this shit that I held it up and I wanted too much money, and he didn’t want to be a hired gun and all that. I don’t know why George does all that stuff. There’s something wrong with that guy between the ears. He’s always been a little weird. Someone asked me when we started not getting along, and I said, “It wasn’t toward the middle. We didn’t get along from the day he joined the band.” He’s two different people, man. I mean, we played a couple of shows with him this summer, and he’s always nice to me, saying, “How are you doing, Don?” I said, “You know what George? You’re always, ‘Hi, hi. How are you doing?’ And then the very next day you talk shit about me on the Internet. What the f**k is that all about? Why do you keep this up?” And if you say something, he’ll lie. Just tell the truth. Practice what you preach. The truth will set you free. He’s just a different personality. I don’t hate. I don’t worry about it. And I gave up trying to defend myself on the Internet a long time ago. You get a guy, he goes to the show and then he blogs, “I saw Dokken and they sucked.” I just say to people like that, “Well, that’s your opinion, and don’t skimp on the avocado. If you think you can do better, here’s the microphone. Knock yourself out.”
The “Monsters of Rock Tour” in 1988 is such an epochal moment in heavy metal history. What was the most memorable moment for you?
DD: There were a lot of memories. It was the highlight of our careers. It was a tragedy, too, because we didn’t get to do another album, and we were going to go on a world tour, because we’d gotten to that level. We could have taken on the whole world … We couldn’t get to the stage without a helicopter bringing all the musicians in, and I remember the first day I thought I was going to throw up because we’re in this helicopter, and I see helicopters flying over the field and you see a hundred thousand people, and I was just going, “Oh, my God. This is the dream I’ve had my whole life.” I was so scared, you know. Even though we’d toured most the year, we were going up against Metallica, Scorpions, Aerosmith … man, we’d better step up to the plate. That was a lot of pressure on us, but it was a highlight just flying over that and seeing all those people and seeing my name up there on a 50-foot banner, it was pretty exciting.
Did it feel competitive, like everybody was trying to outdo one another?
DD: No, I didn’t feel any competition. It was really interesting, that tour. I thought there were going to be orgies going on backstage, like it had always been. I thought, “Well, a hundred thousand people, how many girls are going to be backstage? 300, you know?” But the truth was, by the time we got to it, I had kids, everybody had kids, everybody was married … Eddie had Valerie Bertinelli. And everybody had their wives. Backstage, it was really pretty chill, just barbequing, you had the catering, and you’d be barbequing steak one day and there were just kids and family around. There was no groupie stuff going on; it was really just chill backstage, just really low-key. It wasn’t what I expected, just a blowout going on every day. I mean, there were still drugs flying around pretty heavy on that tour. The road crews were under a lot of pressure, because they had to set up this massive amount of equipment, and I know we had 10, 15 semi-trucks – a pretty big operation. And I saw a lot of road crews who would be there one day and gone the next because they had just burned out on drugs and drinking and stuff. They’d let the pressure get to them. 
Were there things about that tour that you enjoyed and other aspects of it that you didn’t?
DD: Well, the worst part of it was going on after Metallica. I mean, we had the same manager [Cliff Burnstein] and even though we were making more money than them, and we were supposedly more famous, I kept saying, “Can you put them on after us, because they are kicking our ass.” I mean, they were. It’s pretty hard to go onstage and sing “In My Dreams” after they’d just closed with “Kill Them All.”
That is tough.
DD: It’s a different energy level. I learned a lot from Metallica, man, because I think we were getting complacent. We toured with Aerosmith that year, and all these other bands, like Judas Priest. I mean, we were on the road for 18 months, and we were really tired at the end. But, we were getting kudos, and we were doing really well, and then, all of a sudden … Metallica just had this attitude like, “Every show is our last show.” They just went out there, and they would slay it. People would rush the stage, and I think we were caught up in the rock star thing, where we said, “We’re Dokken, we’re cool, don’t worry about it.” And I kept saying to the boys, “We’ve got to step up our game a little bit, because we’re getting our butts kicked.” That was my opinion. And that was when we were finished.
Do you have any memorabilia from that era that’s special to you?
DD: I gave all my stage clothes and everything away in the last 15 years to charity. The only thing I have left that’s worth something is the sequined, velvet, long trench coat I wore in “Dream Warriors.” I had that custom made jacket with all these sparkly things on it that I wore for “Dream Warriors.” And I still have it. I tried to put it on about a month ago, and it doesn’t fit. I must have been a little skinnier. I tried to get my arms through it and I ripped it. I was about 30 pounds lighter, you know. So, I’ve still got that and I don’t know what to do with it. The Hard Rock [Café] wanted it. They wanted to do a Freddy Krueger/Dokken thing at the Hard Rock, but I thought maybe it’d be better to give it to a Cancer auction or something like that so the money can go to cancer research. I like doing that. The last show of this tour is a cancer fundraiser, and then I’m going to Washington D.C. in November to do concert in Washington that’s being put together called “Fallen Blue” [Nov. 10 at the Recher Theatre in Towson, Maryland] for officers that have been killed in the line of duty. I like doing those things to pay it forward. When anybody asks me to go to Fort Bragg or to go do a concert to play for the troops or to play for Iraq [War] veterans who’ve just gotten back I like to do it. We don’t get paid. It’s not about the money. It’s about paying it forward.
And you’re a big contributor to the Los Angeles Children’s Hospital.
DD: Yeah, I mean, you what happened, how I got involved in that was unfortunately through a tragedy in my own family. My brother had a beautiful daughter, Michelle, and I loved her dearly. We used to take care of her a lot. She went to school right across the street from my house, and she’d hang out with her uncle Don. And she contracted cancer at 8 and passed away. And so, when I was going to the hospital to see her, and we were all there hoping she’d make it, I started seeing all these kids, you know. And I just thought they needed some cheering up. So that’s when I started donating my money and time. I spent Christmas Eve there. I spent Thanksgiving. I’d eaten cafeteria food at the hospital, no thanks to them, because I didn’t think the food was very good. So I would go to and buy turkeys and a bunch of dressing, pies – and I just put it in the back of a truck and hauled all this food down to the hospital, this awesome gourmet food for the kids and they got a kick out of it. And I gave them all Dokken stuff.
They must have loved it.
DD: Yeah, we had wheelchair races, and the nurses hated me. They’d say, “You can’t be doing that. These kids have got cystic fibrosis, and it could kill them.” I’d say, “Look, they’re dying already.” I mean, they were terminal, so what do you mean? I mean, Jesus, let’s have some fun. It’s a tough thing. It’s depressing. I would take a couple of my rock-star buddies along, down to the hospital, and they lasted about a half an hour, because it’s very hard. You’ve got to a have a … it’s hard. It’s sad. To be around 40 kids and you know they’re all terminal, it’s hard. And sometimes you’d go next year, and a couple of them would still be there, and I’d be like, “Awesome! You’re still here.”
Back in the early ‘80s, you approached both George and Jeff about being in the band, and you had this record deal in place [with Carrere Records, the German label that first released Breaking the Chains]. Why was it so important to you to get those two onboard?
DD: Well, actually, you know, Juan was the original bass player. Juan and I toured Germany in 1979 together as a three-piece. Juan Croucier [known more for being in Ratt] was the bass player, and if you look back on Breaking the Chains, Juan was on there, because that was before Jeff’s time. But, we had the same problems. Juan is a really mellow, nice guy, and he didn’t get along with George either. My skin was thicker, but Juan was like, “God, man. This guy is always complaining. He’s always just fighting with everything we want to do and get going. He’s just fighting us all the way.” And George quit the band, I think, probably three or four times the first year and a half. He was quitting like every other month, or at least every two months. I mean, Warren DeMartini replaced him for a while, and I wanted to keep Warren, and then Juan was playing with Warren, and Ratt was starting to get popular. And then when the LP came out, Juan just said, “I can’t play with George.”
And unfortunately, when he left, like two days later, we had an offer to do the Blue Oyster Cult tour, our first arena tour. We had no bass player. So I called Mike Barney, and he said, “There’s this guy, Jeff Pilson. He’s a singer and bass player.” And he was playing in some little bar with this chick singer, and he was just playing bass, doing like “Little Red Corvette.” And I went down and auditioned him, and that was it. I was desperate to get a bass player, and that’s how Jeff got in the band. Jeff got lucky. He was literally playing in a bar called the Shot of Gold for like 20 people, playing like Prince and we were going on tour in literally … we were making the video in like five days and touring in two weeks. I mean, we needed a bass player like right now. And we just grabbed him. He was in the right place at the right time. I didn’t know the guy.
What was the biggest difference between Breaking the Chains and Tooth and Nail? Did you sense that Dokken had taken a big leap forward?
DD: Well, we had to. Breaking the Chains came out. “Breaking the Chains” was one of the most requested songs in the country and nobody bought the record. The record stiffed. They call it a “passive hit” – like, “Yeah, I love that song. Buy the record? No.” Loved the song, didn’t buy the record. So the record company wanted to drop us, and I said, “Well, I guess it’s over.” The album only sold a hundred thousand copies, which these days would be a success. Back then, it was a dismal failure. And we basically – my managers and me – begged the label to give us one more chance. And that’s why I came up with the title Tooth and Nail. I said, “Boys, this is it. Tooth and nail. If we don’t bring it on this next album …”
When I met George to join Dokken, he was driving the Gallo Wines truck, driving Gallo Wine to liquor stores. And that’s the truth. He was driving, and he got kicked out of his house, he was living in the back of his car, and he was making a living driving Gallo Wine to liquor stores. So they had nothing going on. I had a record deal and no band. Went to Germany, got my record deal, and I always liked Mick. I thought he was an awesome drummer, I liked seeing him play in The Boyz, and Mick kept saying, “Why don’t you get George in the band?” And I said, “Well, I’m the guitar player, really. I’m the guitar player and the singer.” The manager said, “We think you should put the guitar down and front the band,” because when you’re playing guitar, you’re kind of stuck on the mic. And they wanted me to move off the mic. So, I thought, “Okay, George is a great guitar player. We’ll try it.” Unfortunately, it started out on the wrong foot and never got back on the right foot.
It’s amazing you made it as long as you did.
DD: Well, my manager said to me … he was the most famous manager in the country; he was with Metallica, Tesla, Queensryche – you name it. Cliff Burnstein is the like the guru of all managers. I remember him saying to me – and actually, the first band he ever signed, an American band, was us. Def Leppard and that was it. His partner was handling them in England, and Cliff’s first band to pick up was us before all those bands. I was with him the night he went to The Troubadour to see Metallica [in 1984], to pick them up [for Elektra Records and Q-Prime Management]. But, he said to me, “Don, you guys are famous despite yourselves.”   
With the state of the music industry, what are your hopes for Dokken going forward
DD: Well, you know, we’re in that strange situation – like everybody is – where you don’t make your living off selling records anymore. You make your living off touring, because nobody sells records anymore. Metallica is not selling 10 million records like they used to, or a hundred million, like the Black Album. Those days are gone because the Internet came along and changed everything. Napster changed the world. I was really proud of Lars [Ulrich] that he actually went to Congress and fought to get this thing stopped. People had this attitude like, “Well, what do you care? You’re making millions of dollars. What’s the big deal if a person downloads music for free?” Well, if you make a painting and spend 11 months on it, you pay for your brushes and you pay for it with your sweat and blood, and you go sell it to pay the bills, and the art gallery sells it to somebody sitting outside the art gallery and made 500 copies of it and posters of the painting, you’d be pissed. It’s your art. It’s your art!
This attitude of kids going, “Well, I’m not going to spend 10 bucks, even though it’s a bad copy and it sounds like shit, I’ll just download it for nothing” … Lars fought to stop that, and I respect him for it. And so now, it’s just touring. You have to tour. And somebody said, “Why are you making a new record?” It’s because it’s my love, it’s my passion. I don’t think painters or artists paint to make a living. If they make a living it’s a bonus, but they do it because they love to paint. If you can make money at it, that’s great. I never got into this business to get rich or to live in mansions. That wasn’t the point. I was a musician. My mom was a musician, my father was a musician, my brother’s a musician, my daughter is 25 and a classically trained pianist – it just runs in our blood, you know. It’s our family.

* Photo by Devin DeHaven