Christopher Cross Covering for a Sick Ritchie Blackmore on Deep Purple’s First U.S. Show

Ultimate Classic Rock

(via Guitar Player) by Joe Matera

When Christopher Cross came out of nowhere to score big time with his 1979 self-titled debut album, many assumed he was an overnight sensation. At the 23rd Annual Grammy Awards held in February 1981, Cross would take home five Grammys for the disc including, for the first time ever, four of the most prestigious awards: Record of the Year and Song of the Year (both for the single “Sailing”), Album of the Year and Best New Artist.

Despite his status as an overnight sensation, Cross had journeyed 10 years to reach that night — from his early days as an up-and-coming electric guitar player with killer chops to his sudden ascension to the top of the 1980s’ soft-rock genre… or as it’s known today, yacht rock.

Remarkably, Cross’s underrated guitar playing talents have always taken a back seat to his songwriting. Yet upon closer inspection, his output occasionally reveals his proficiency on the instrument. While the dulcet tones of “Sailing” might make listeners overlook his guitar skills, it’s hard to miss the face-melting guitar solo on the outro to Cross’s 1980 hit “Ride Like the Wind” (although you may wish they’d mixed it a tad louder).

Remarkably, there’s one guitarist who was aware of Cross’s talents long before nearly everyone else: Ritchie Blackmore.

In August 1970, Blackmore and his then-current group Deep Purple arrived in the U.S. on a tour that launched at the Jam Factory in San Antonio, Texas, Cross’s hometown. Cross, then working under his birth name, Chris Geppert, was one of the hottest guitarists on the local scene, a long-haired, heavy-music loving axeman who played in a covers band called Flash…

Read more: https://www.msn.com/en-us/music/news/christopher-cross-covering-for-a-sick-ritchie-blackmore-on-deep-purple-s-first-u-s-show/ar-AA1CKYGG?ocid=entnewsntp&pc=DCTS&cvid=ea1bb90cc01243c2b2e493f01399c9d2&ei=43

Liv Tyler was 12 when she found out her dad was Steven Tyler — at an Aerosmith concert

photo thelist.com

(via The Independent) by Kaleigh Werner

Liv Tyler has reflected on the moment she learned her birth father was Aerosmith frontman Steven Tyler.

Speaking on Kate and Oliver Hudson’s Sibling Revelry podcast, the 47-year-old said she was only “11 or 12” at the time.

Up until that moment, Liv believed that musician Todd Rundgren, whom her mother dated between 1972 and 1978, was her father.

It wasn’t until her mother, Bebe Buell, brought her to an Aerosmith concert that the truth was revealed. She said she knew something was off when her mother started crying.

“I looked at my mom, and I was like, ‘Mom?’ And she just started crying. My mom just, like, balled. And I was like, ‘Is Steven my dad?’ And she just burst [into tears],” Liv recalled. “And then she took me to a bench and we sat on a bench at this outdoor amphitheater and she told me the whole story in the most sincere, beautiful way.”

Read more: https://www.msn.com/en-us/health/medical/liv-tyler-was-12-when-she-found-out-her-dad-was-steven-tyler-at-an-aerosmith-concert/ar-AA1D3vw5?ocid=msedgdhp&pc=U531&cvid=c017db9efec44810b6969141d36e5420&ei=23

Video of the Week: Pink Panther Theme with Lucas Brar and Emil Ernebro

“Pink Panther Theme” by Henry Mancini–nylon and steel string guitar duo.

Songs You May Have Missed #775

Adolf Fredrik Girls Choir: “Varmlandsvisan” (1993)

Choral music from one of Sweden’s most acclaimed and awarded choirs, representing the Adolf Fredrik Music School in Stockholm.

The choir is comprised of girls from grades 6 to 9, so membership turns over each year, but the spirit and sound remain consistent, and consistently excellent, through the years.

See also: https://edcyphers.com/2013/05/11/songs-you-may-have-missed-413/

Video of the Week: The Amazing Recording History of Here Comes the Sun

Songs You May Have Missed #774

Original Broadway Cast: “Maybe” (1977)

She just turned seven yesterday. Seems young, but some seem to gather in more in seven trips around the sun than others. She’s always looking for the next thing to love, the next thing to dive into. Like her mom did at seven.

A musically-obsessed grandpa throws a lot of things her way. Certain things have stuck, become obsessions of her own. She loves Herman’s Hermits, Veggietales, Vivaldi, singing cats, the Cowsills, Julieta Venegas, ABBA, Veruca Salt singing “I Want it Now”, Lennon’s leather-tonsilled “Twist and Shout”, McCartney’s “Uncle Albert/Admiral Halsey”, this video, and, most obsessively, “Maybe” from Annie.

She’s long been enamored of the two better-known songs from this musical. She’s watched the “Hard Knock Life” movie clip on YouTube countless times. And when we visited a community park with an old bandshell she took the stage to give her grandpa an exclusive performance of “Tomorrow”, taking immense pride in holding the final note even longer than Andrea McArdle did.

Finally this year the off-Broadway production of Annie came to town. We knew that “Tomorrow” and “Hard Knock Life” would be highlights.

What we didn’t know was that an unfamiliar song would be the highlight.

In the show’s first number, lead character Annie is quieting a younger housemate who’s had a bad dream. The conversation turns to their dreams of being taken in by a real family. Annie, who holds onto hope that her parents will return for her any day, sings the heartbreaking “Maybe”.

Grandpa and granddaughter alike were, apparently, blindsided. Enthralled. That moment, that song, that performance–it was magic. The kind of moment you wish could last and want to relive over and over.

So by the end of intermission she’d made sure I’d put “Maybe” on the Spotify playlist she curates on my phone. And on the way home from the theater we heard one song on repeat. And after every play she asked me if I was sick of it yet. And I answered honestly that I wasn’t.

A couple days later we went to our favorite coffee shop for chai and to the roller rink. It’s become a semiregular routine of ours and involves a bit of a drive. We stopped at Chipotle to pick up some dinner, then to my house to eat it, then back home for her. I think I heard “Maybe” over 30 times that day.

“Are you sick of it yet?”

“Nope”

And even if I was, I wouldn’t say it. She’ll get no wet blanket from me. It’s a joy to see the joy she gets from music. In a young person there’s no pretense and no posing; the love of music is luminous, instinctive and real.

Even when the car contains two older brothers, their devices, their more contemporary urban music tastes and their propensity to tease her for her musical sensibilities, she only sings louder, completely undeterred.

This is the gift of being inside the music, coupled with that of being too young to feel shame about loving the stuff you love.

Annie has become a bit of an obsession for both of us. The next musical obsession will come along of course, but until it does we watch YouTube Annie performances and compare the Annies over the years (she prefers Brooklyn-accented Lilla Crawford while I’m partial to the original cast’s McArdle). We rate which girls sing the best versions of this song that stole both our hearts unexpectedly.

We can’t wait until another production of Annie comes to town, and this time “Maybe” will be the most anticipated moment.

Nope, still not sick of it.

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