Today is my 91st day of core workouts that I began back on January 1st. It started off as 28 Day Challenge (click HERE), grew to 50 days and now – low and behold – I’m closing in on the Big 1-0-0.
Hard to believe.
But there it is.
This afternoon’s 91st mat session then is the ‘Where the Beat Meets the Street‘ album by Bobby & the Midnites.
The band was Bob Weir’s main side project during the first half of the 1980’s when he wasn’t touring with the Grateful Dead.
They released two albums, but were better known for their live concerts than for their work in the recording studio. With a rhythm section that included jazz veterans Billy Cobham and, for a time, Alphonso Johnson, (Stax recording artist and Booker T & the MG’s alum Steve Cropper was also along for the ride on this long strange trip) Bobby and the Midnites played rock music that was influenced by jazz-rock fusion.
Released in 1984, the album barely squeaked into the #166 position on the Billboard 200 before dropping out altogether (followed shortly by the ultimate demise of the band), mostly because Weir’s legions of faithful Deadheads were too stoned to know how ‘meh‘ the album really was and more or less bought it more out of sheer loyalty than musical appreciation.
Then, likely, the buzz wore off and they realized how shitty it really was.
That’s my story for owning this album anyway.
Anyway, this album represents the The Midnites’ second and final album, which sees the group ultimately going for mid-’80s radio acceptance with a vengeance. As he had in his ’70s group, Kingfish, Bobby began to take a backseat in his own band, leaving most of the singing up to Bobby Cochran and bringing in a host of outside songwriters. What you got was, as one song put it, ‘Rock In The ’80s‘, a set of frisky, cheesy toe-tappers that concerned themselves mostly with the magical world of rock & roll.
I mean, really, this is 100% certified hard cheese. And not the good kind either. What else can you make of something with the opening lyrics: “I too want to live in America and get my hands on the wheel of some Detroit steel and realize my dreams”?
Should have stuck with the jazz fusion thing, Bob-ster.
Either that, or hand out a lifetime’s supply of the primo grade shit to go along with this album to ensure the buzz and, therefore, the appreciation of this musical schmultz never wears off.