WEEK 8

[Author's Note: [Author’s note: If this is your first time visiting the UMC blog, you might want to check out the INTRODUCTION first.]

And tonight’s winner is…

Detroit Underground. Congratulations you Motown making mofos!

Ok, so, the recurring problem in this week’s competition was tone. You probably often hear judges, musicians, audiophiles and most other self-professed, know-it-all types talk about tone when we/they talk about music. But you seldom hear it defined, so, for many, it is this intangible, ethereal concept that is often misunderstood.

So let’s talk about tone.

Where music is concerned, there are basically two definitions.

The first is that tone is a technical musical notation that, according to the Virginia Tech Music Dictionary, is “An interval of music consisting of two semi-tones that make a whole step.”

Or as I like to define it, “Bla bla bla.”

The second definition, and the one relevant to us, is, “The particular sound of an instrument or voice combined with the performer’s particular technique.”

With regard to musicianship or vocals, there are an infinite number of variables that form a player’s tone. From the brand and model of his instrument, to the gauge of his pick, to the circumference of his vocal chords, to the infinite possible ways the musician plays his instrument, to what he had for breakfast that morning – all contribute to a tone unique to only that player.

Your tone is your musical fingerprint, and there is no unanimity as to what is good and what is bad tone. It’s all, pretty much, a matter of taste.

And for my taste, RockSlyde, the evening’s first band, was in serious need of a tone makeover. At first it sounded like they were going to rock when they rolled out the opening snyth intro on Styx’s “Blue Collar Man.”

When the singer jumped in and sang, “Give me a job give me security…” it seemed like some top shelf rock and roll was going to happen. But it didn’t take long for the cracks in the vocal foundation to start showing. When they covered Journey’s “Anyway You Want It,” those vocal cracks became glaring. Ditto on REO Speedwagon’s, “Keep on Loving You,” and Boston’s, “Long Time.”

It’s not that he was a bad singer. He did manage to hit some difficult falsettos (missed a few too) but there was something about his tone that didn’t work for me. Admittedly, the other judges liked it, but for me it was nasally, tinny and stark.

Also, there were issues with the harmonies, mostly because they weren’t, um… harmonious. I’d say that’s a problem, especially because the songs they were covering were such harmony-heavy tunes (Boston, REO, Journey?!) It was not until INXS’ “New Sensation,” when it sounded pro, and that’s because the song was well in their range.

On the positive side, they were having fun and smiling and laughing and moving about, and that counts for a lot. I envision these guys thriving in local bar, where the bar-babes are cute, the booze is flowing, and nobody gives a damn about tone.

Haute Flash was instantly loveable. They are an all female band, most of them over 40, which makes their name utterly hilarious and appropriate. They came out in gaudy sparkly skirts, black fishnets, pink feathers in the bass player’s hair and sparkly scarves hanging from their mike stands. They were clearly there to have a good time.

The first two songs, “Lady Marmalade” and “Boogie Oogie” (sung by drummer and keyboardist respectively) were just ok. About half way through “Boogie Oogie,” Danielle leaned over and commented that they weren’t black enough to sing those songs. She wasn’t referring to skin color per se, rather, she meant tone. In this case, that powerful, loose, rhythmic, large-esophagused vocal tone most often attributed to certain sassy African-American hot mama vocalists.

I said to Danielle, “I dare you to say that on the microphone. I just dare you to say they weren’t ‘black enough’ for those songs.”

I was certain she wouldn’t do it, but to my shock and awe, when the set was over, and it was Danielle’s turn to speak, she commented that the first two songs were, “lacking blackness,” then added that it sounded, “… you know, kind of white, and stiff – no disrespect to us color challenged people.”

I totally agreed. Because, as soon as they moved beyond the funk/soul sister stuff, and into the country and classic rock, they began to shine like the crazy diamonds they are. The drummer sang Gretchen Wilson’s “All Jacked Up.” Then bass player, Sharon, known to most of us as Shaaron (with two A’s) for her prolific comments on this blog and tendency to foment conspiracy theories, came out and sang the vocally treacherous “White Rabbit” which was wonderful and frightening, just like Grace Slick intended. Next she banged out Janice Joplin’s “Piece of My Heart,” with a rich, raspy voice that was the polar opposite of the stark, tinny tone of the first singer.

After their set, Danielle leaned over and said, “You know what else I love about this band? Their name! Menopause is generally treated by society as a curse. For these women to call themselves Haute Flash takes serious ovaries.”

Agreed.

Next up was Rockandy and tone was just the beginning of their problems. They started off with B52s’ “Love Shack” and, while the Ric Ocasek-looking bass player did a great job on the Fred Schneider parts, the two girls who sang the beehive harmonies were too vocally sloppy to carry the song.

After that, the guitarist sang Tommy Tutone’s “867-5309/Jenny.” He was by far a better singer than the girls, though there was nothing interesting or gallant about his tone either, and he had projection problems, and some pitch problems. His guitar work was clean and tight but, again, more tone problems with that too. After “Jenny,” one of the beehive sisters sang The Donnas’, “Take it Off,”, which was weak, but at least not horrible. It didn’t get horrible until “Barracuda,” which, like so many songs that were attempted last night, was so far out of her range that it was ludicrous to even attempt. Really? Heart?? You could barely get through The Donnas’ tune, and now you’re trying to sing Ann Wilson? Wow. Not very smart, but, as Danielle might say, “That took ovaries whitey!”

Next was Rokken – a Dokken cover band. This was a difficult band for me to grade. Largely because I can’t stand Don Dokken. I hate his songs, I hate his lyrics, I hate his look, I hate his persona, I hate his name, I hate his band, I hate his band’s name, I hate his website, I hate his MySpace page, I hate his friends on his MySpace page, I hate his wife, I hate his dog, I hate his mother, I hate his car, I hate his house. But of all the things I cannot stand about Don Dokken it’s that high pitch, hyper-sustained, excessive tremolo-ing, overblown, overrated, erratic screechfest of a voice that never fails to send me running for the tool shed to find a screwdriver that I can drive into my eyeballs.

My conundrum was, the more that this singer sounded like Don Dokken, the more I would hate him. And he did, pretty much sound like Dokken, and I pretty much hated it, but, I vowed not to hold it against him, because that’s the job of a Dokken tribute band isn’t it? To sound like Dokken?

The whole performance actually got me to rethink the position I took so many weeks ago, that it didn’t matter if the judges didn’t like the band the tribute band happened to be tributing; it only mattered if they tributed them well.

But last night I got to thinking, what if there was a Screeching Weasels Being Beaten with a Stick tribute band? and what if they sounded exactly like a pack of weasels who were screeching because they were getting beaten by a stick? Should I give them a good score?

Hmm, we’ll have to explore that later I think

For now, it didn’t matter because I did not hold the Dokken voice against him – until he brought the Dokken voice over to the Queensryche song.

Being that I hate Queensryche almost as much as I hate Dokken, for him to get all “Dokkensryche” on us was, for me, a double dose of Hell’s hemlock pouring into my ear canals.

Even worse was when he brought the Dokken voice to my beloved Van Halen, and that was the last straw. I felt officially justified to hold the Dokken voice against him.

Another problem was that the singer was a little whiny onstage. He complained that only the local bands got love in this contest (I assume they’re an out-of-town band), and that, “It’s a homer’s game,” and also commented that, “If you’re not from San Diego you don’t get no love,” thereby creating yet another conspiracy theory to add to the list, The San Diego County Band Preference Conspiracy Theory (SDCBPCT).

Will it never end?

He was also quite cocky up there, which didn’t please Danielle and Alicia, but I didn’t mind so much. I figure the cock rock strut is appropriate in a Dokken Tribute band. However, you can’t have it both ways. You cannot be a whiny crybaby AND at the same time strut around stage like you’re the last cocksman left on the planet.

Bottom line is this: it has nothing to do with a homer conspiracy. It has to do with you. If you bring it; if you rock the house — they will have no choice but to love you. Whether you’re from San Diego, California or Hog Jaw, Arkansas – it’s all in your hands. Everything else is horseshit.

Last up was Detroit Underground, and I knew, right from the start, they had it won. They played Earth Wind and Fire’s “Sing a Song,” and it was all smiles and kisses at the judges’ table.

If there was any doubt after the first song that they were going to win, they followed that with “More Today than Yesterday,” and nailed it so perfectly that all they had to do from that point was to not play any Screeching Weasels Getting Beaten by a Stick covers and victory would be guaranteed.

They even managed to take my second most hate song of all time, “Kiss,” and turn it into a blast of awesomeness directly in the face. They just nailed it on all levels: Vocals, music, charisma, style, audience interaction, costumes, and yes, also, tone. From the vocalists, to the strings, to the wind – the whole damn thing was a tone-riffic orgy and a big part of the reason they won.

The girls agreed with me, and the three of us slathered them with praise and blessings, and it was really quite disgusting; so bad actually, that I had to take a shower when I got home because I felt dirty afterward. I’ll try not to do that again.

Edwin Decker
Judge #3
www.edwindecker.com