Grand Funk Railroad...never last.

September 3^rd – There’s lots that can go against a rock band; lots. And when they’re seeking either recognition or public approval is when it can be at its worst. If you’re a white band and, even in the 70’s, you turned up onstage wearing exploding hair, are dressed like a line-up for a pimp identity parade and look like you have a cucumber in the crotch of your trousers then you’re not really starting from the best place, certainly as far as the non-white segment of the audience (should there be any) and also as far as…the critics are concerned; and we all know how important they are…but why?

What is it about art/entertainment critics that we so adulate? It’s not as though they are integral to one fulfilling a cultural life, it’s the same as having an extra pair of bollocks but on your forehead; interesting to view the first couple of times but serving no long-term useful purpose at all. And it’s not as though they are so filled with foresight and experience that one can rely on their judgement. Kate Kellaway dammed Harry Potter with faint, begrudging praise (and look how that flopped) and the various critical reviews of such landmark films as Jaws, Aliens, Raiders of  the Lost Ark, have all been so wide of the mark…indeed one of my special favourites is Stanley Kauffman’s crit of Star Wars;

“… about the dialogue there’s nothing to be said. In fact the dialogue itself can hardly be said: it sticks in the actors’ mouths like peanut butter. The acting is from the School of Buster Crabbe, except for Alec Guinness, who mumbles through on the way to his salary check… The only way that Star Wars could have been exciting was through its visual imagination and special effects. Both are unexceptional.”

Spot-on, Mr. Kauffman, a flop in every way.

And yet still we read their columns, use their verdict on the latest whatever to decide what we’ll see, read, watch, listen to when all the time we know what should be the deciding factor; it should be us, and people like us. As well as being a writer, I work in theatre to earn a crust and I’ve lost count of the time I’ve said;

This is a really piss-poor piece of work

as I’ve watched the auditorium fill to bursting and I remind myself of my oft repeated phrase;

WTF do I know?

These folk who’ve bought their ticket for the evening’s event are the only real judges of what’s culturally acceptable, what’s in good or bad taste, what reflects their time, understanding and dreams of what’s good; and, although it irks me to say it, it’s an undeniable fact that a name makes it.

When Grand Funk Railroad (GFR) hit the music scene in ‘69’ they were written off by the critics as a poor man’s Led Zeppelin/Cream clone of a band with little to recommend them. I give you the critic’s verdict on GFR:

2^nd Album – At the peak of rock’s struggle to find something new, with psychedelia, artyness, newly emerged “Satanic Metal”, and God knows what else, here we have a bunch of guys who not only do not strive to find anything, they shove their lack of struggle right in yer face. Grand Funk is so hideously bland and devoid of personality that it could have been easily recorded by a couple million hard rock bands of the time.

3^rd Album – What the heck – speaking very roughly and dirtily, upon the first few listens all of these songs suck. ALL of them.

4^th Album – The interesting thing is – I really can’t say what’s so particularly great about these performances. The songs, true to the spirit of the epoch, are all extended beyond hope… The production is near abysmal; sometimes it seems like the engineers just didn’t bother to separate tracks at all.

5^th Album – Now honestly, stupidity doesn’t get any further than this.

And my favourite on the band’s album titled Bosnia which was made to aid that particular country:

Oh well, at least they made this money for a good cause. But now the country of Bosnia doesn’t get any more royalties, don’t buy this album.

Trouble was the fans loved them. Queues formed, people stayed out nights in order to get tickets to see them, crowds for tickets got crushed, they outsold The Beatles at Shea Stadium, sold multi-millions of albums (3 gold in one year, 5 in total) have broken up, reformed, broken up, reformed and yet still have managed to tour consistently for the past 40 years putting on even now 40 shows a year. They were (and I guess are now) as tight as a tick live with a hard working drummer (aren’t they all) and a front man/lead guitarist who really sells the band…and people, continue to buy.

No stamina, see, out of touch with the reality of music, not what the public want; well done critics, you shine. Donald Brewer, the GFR drummer, who, was on this day in 1948, must read the reviews and cry…with laughter…