11.23: How's this item for ya? The first jukebox saw the light of day (well, actually, the light of the Palais Royale Saloon in San Francisco) and the ears of many people on this day in 18-friggin-89. Whoa. Let's all say that together. 1889. Long, long ago, by any standard, even wars of the stars. Called the "nickel-in-the-slot" player, it consisted of a phonograph housed in a wood cabinet, with four "stethoscope-like" tubes attached to it. Insert a nickel (over a $1 at today's prices) and you and three of your closest, or not-so-closest, friends could listen to whatever record sat on the phonograph. We're not really sure (we guess we could look it up, but we're feeling lazy right now) what type of music influenced the youth of that day to rebel and dance and get footloose, but the first jukebox swept the country, taking over the market carved by the player piano. What a crazy world it must have been.
11.24: On this day in 1991, the music world lost the greatest frontman in the history of rock. Freddie Mercury, lead singer of Queen, passed away after his battle with the AIDS. Fueled by his gaunt appearance the years previous, media outlets (UK gossip rags, mostly) persisted in hounding the singer about his positive/negative status, throwing rumors about as they are prone to do. On Nov. 23, 1991, one day before his death, Mercury released a statement to the press stating that he was, indeed, as they'd conjectured for years, HIV positive, but he had not released this information, until then, in order to protect those around him from the unrelenting media attention that would've ensued. Bad enough that the paparazzi hounded him without knowing his status, but had they known, the scrutiny would've been tenfold. As the chief songwriter, along with Brian May, for Queen, Mercury penned the stadium anthem "We Are The Champions," the rockabilly goodness that is "Crazy Little Thing Called Love," and probably the best singalong ditty ever conceived, "Bohemian Rhapsody." This guy had it. He defined it. He was it. A consummate showman, four octave singer, and all-around awesome guy, Mercury's death left a black hole in the rock universe.
11.25: On this day in 1984, a supergroup of mostly U.K. musicians got together for a monumental 24-hour recording session to benefit famine relief in Ethiopia. The superdupergroup, known as Band Aid, led by founder and organizer Bob Geldof (him who doesn't like Mondays and him who played the fictional rocker "Pink" in the filmed version of The Wall), busted out a singular single titled "Do They Know It's Christmas?" Not only did they not know that it was Christmas, but they couldn't have cared less because, ya know, the people most affected by the famines had other things on their minds besides crass commercialism and Atari 2600s. So, no, they didn't know it was Christmas, but we're sure they probably appreciated the outpouring of help and funds resulting from the single, even if they didn't know from whence or why it came. Band Aid, of course, directly or indirectly led to raising much-needed awareness to the famine in Ethiopia, Live Aid, "We Are The World", "That's What Friends Are For", and celebrities stating their opinions on world matters from the comfort of their celebrity. Yes, we're a little flummoxed by the duality of the self-righteousness involved with and the awareness raised by the project, but we'll take what we can get with this kind of thing. For all the egregiousness against our ears and music sensibilities, we're still very appreciative that this project happened, that it led to other worthwhile projects, and that we live in a country that allows us to change the channel, so that we'll never have to actually listen to the song ever again.
11.25: The Band performed their final concert on this day in 1976, at Winterland in San Francisco. One of the best unheralded bands to emerge intact from the '60s, The Band (yes, kids, it's a band called The Band) gained their chops when they backed Bob Dylan on his first tour after going electric. This may not seem like a big deal today. So what? Dylan changed styles. Big deal, right? Wrong. His fans hated it and hated him for doing it, for putting down his acoustic and amping up his sound. They booed and cursed him, and the guys in The Band learned how to play on that tour, learned what it took to capture an audience and hold them, even a hostile audience. This carried over into the rest of their career. The Band went on to successful tours of their own and to record such classics as "The Weight," "Up On Cripple Creek," and "The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down." Filmed by an up-and-coming young filmmaker by the name of Martin Scorsese, that last performance saw release in theaters two years later as The Last Waltz. Featuring a grand performance by The Band, The Last Waltz also included a slew of world-class guest musicians, such as Bob Dylan, Van Morrison, Eric Clapton, Neil Diamond, Muddy Waters, Joni Mitchell, and Ringo Starr. Arguably one of the best, if not the best, rock film ever made, we cherish every moment of The Last Waltz, and so should you. It's bittersweet to watch this performance knowing full well the last bow is coming, yet it's also invigorating to watch this performance, realizing the full musicality of every single member of The Band. Seek it out.
11.26: On this day in 1939, The Queen of Rock & Roll, Anna Mae Bullock, found out what love had to do with it when she confidently sauntered into this world. The singer, better known as Tina Turner, was born in a Brownsville, Tennessee hospital. We've previously spoken of Turner's split from Ike Turner in the '70s and her subsequent rebirth in the '80s, but it was in the late '50s when Tina spread her wings for the first time. That's when she joined Ike's soul revue, Ike Turner and the Kings of Rhythm, at the tender age of 18, going by the name "Little Ann." It wasn't until one of Ike's other singers failed to show for a recording session that Little Ann took the spotlight, singing lead, while pregnant with Ike's child, on "A Fool In Love" and earning Tina her first hit. This almost never came to pass, however, as her vocals were intended only as a place-holder until the proper, intended, male vocals could be dubbed in. When Ike sat down and finally listened to Tina's version, though, he saw the entire direction of the band change, and with it their name and Little Ann's name. From then on they were known as The Ike & Tina Revue and Tina Turner, respectively. The beginning of a long, amazing, and storied career began right there. Tina's longevity is no coincidence. She's earned every accolade and hit, showing the showmen how it's done.
11.27: Digital file sharing, it seems, wasn't the first way the recording industry's been threatened by people sharing music. Way back in the dinosaur era of cassette tapes, the British Phonographic Industry (BPI), the UK's music trade association, issued a statement on this day in 1981 denouncing the newfangled cassette tape as the death of the music world as we knew it. The BPI began a campaign called "Home Taping Is Killing Music." This, of course, came true, as bands and singers were no longer able to make money and there were no massive hits or concert tours or merchandise sales or records sales from that day forward, and music vanished from Earth, never to be heard again. Damn you, cassettes! You ruined music forever! Wait…what's that you say? The '80s saw popular music become bigger than ever, as well as the rise of alternative music and hip-hop? Well, what about cassettes and home taping? Oh, they actually helped spread music to the masses and helped artists gain fans where they otherwise might not have? Oh, okay. Never mind.