Much thanks to Dan Macdonald for contributing the following article!
The Music Beat
by Dan Macdonald
Covering the Jacksonville music scene for the Florida Times-Union from the mid ‘80s through the mid ‘90s I found myself and the city’s musicians searching for the next Jacksonville sound. The legacy and shadow of Southern Rock had defined Jacksonville to the nation. When I came along, Athens was in vogue, as was the hair band bastardization of metal from LA only to be replaced by the disgruntled dirges of grunge from Seattle. Jacksonville had its shot, leaving the next generation of homegrown bands to cringe with the ever-presented drunken scream of “Free Bird.”
That said, the music played here was invigorating. Bands offered a wide array of music styles that avoided the sameness of a single defining genre. The massive bars like Playground South had closed, yielding to smaller venues. My penchant for convenience, and the desire to avoid long drives home after closing time, saw me hanging mostly at the beach. This left other sections of town wanting for more coverage. I offer my apologies. The convenience of blues at Pier 7, the never-ending array of newness at Einstein A Go-Go as well at the fun music provided at Ragtime, Sun Dog Diner or Northshore Grill made it too tempting to stay on my side of the ditch.
Wracking my cranium to recall the names of favorite rock acts leaves me wishing I had a better memory. An all too short list would include the big band sound of Not Tonight I’ve Got the Blues Band. I appreciated the wit and talent of Ed Cotton’s rock medleys performed with Pretty Boy Freud. The energy of Piewackit and The Fenwicks shook the walls at the Dockside. Mike Angelo and the Idols showcased one of the best songwriters I’ve ever heard in the person of Mike Fitzgerald. “Little Murders” and “Backstabbing Bitch” provide raw emotion that rock music rarely touched then or today.
The pure musicianship of the many guitarists this town has produced leaves me wondering why record labels weren’t clamoring to have the talents of Billy Bowers, Steve Shanholtzer, Kevin Banks, Arvid Smith, Jimmy Sexton, Gary Starling and Greg Baril on their rosters.
It is my good fortune allowed me to meet and befriend Mike Shackelford. He’s a man whose music never wears thin on me.
I miss Gary Smalley who left us way too soon.
With the arrival of rap and record-scratching deejays who considered themselves artists, I lost interest in popular music. It showed in my writing as I was complaining like the old man on the block who demanded that hip hoppers, boy bands, and grunge acts get off my lawn. Having to endure the late-night vulgarity of 2 Live Crew three times in year made me nauseous. The pure banality of sitting through a multi-act rap performance in the Coliseum, where the downtime between acts lasted longer then the performances themselves, left me dreading the work.
Speaking of the Coliseum, we complained about the old barn. It was an echo chamber, but couldn’t help itself as it was built before the rock concert was invented. I wish I would have taken my seat — Seat 1, row 9, section RR as a souvenir. As the seating was configured, it was a lone seat, that allowed me to stretch out my long legs and offered me solitude. I never had to explain to a fan sitting next to me that I was indeed reviewing the show. I didn’t ask for their opinion nor did I want it inflicted upon me. However, the thought of the hair band groupies and their slutty outfits walking across the Coliseum floor still brings a smile to my face.
I’m a believer that the music beat belongs to the young and single. I’m neither these days, so it’s best that my writing serves another audience. I enjoyed my time on the beat, the experiences it offered, the hundreds of concerts I saw and the opportunity to meet many multitalented and giving individuals.
Allow me to leave you with my definition of a music critic: “A music critic is one who writes about people who are much more talented than himself and complains they are not performing up to his standards.”
