The Vinyl Dialogues Blog

Stories behind memorable albums of the 1970s as told by the artists

Tag: Tropicana

‘Takin’ It to the Streets’ with Michael McDonald on the Atlantic City Boardwalk

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On July 9, 2017

In The Vinyl Dialogues Book

Michael McDonald performed July 8, 2017, at the Tropicana Showroom in Atlantic City. (Photo by Mike Morsch)

Michael McDonald performed July 8, 2017, at the Tropicana Showroom in Atlantic City.
(Photo by Mike Morsch)

Michael McDonald closed his show Saturday night at the Tropicana in Atlantic City with “Takin’ It to the Streets,” which made sense.

The song, from a 1976 Doobie Brothers album by the same name, was the first single written by McDonald released from the first album on which he appeared as a member of the Doobie Brothers. The song made it to No. 13 on the U.S. Billboard Pop Singles chart. It’s a great tune and likely holds a special spot for McDonald among his vast library of songs.

McDonald had replaced Tom Johnston, who was sidelined in 1975 with health issues, in the Doobie Brothers, and “Takin’ It to the Streets” – both the song and album itself – was a signal that the band was going in a completely different direction.

The intro to “Takin’ It to the Streets” came to McDonald in his car while driving through Southern California on his way to a gig.

“I just heard that intro in my head and I knew that it had something to do with a gospel kind of feeling track. I couldn’t wait to get to the gig so I could figure out on piano what it was,” said McDonald in a interview in advance of the Atlantic City show. “I set up my piano as fast as I could, plugged everything in and sat there for a moment, looking for the chord that I was hearing my head. I just picked at it long to enough to where the guitar player looked over at me and said, ‘Hey, we gotta start.’ I was lost in looking for this elusive melodic rhythmic thing.”

According to McDonald, the basic song was written in those couple of minutes. He would fine tune it after the gig when he got back to his apartment later that night.

“The rest of the song was pretty simple. It was just trying to figure out what that intro meant and where it was going musically,” he said. “It seemed like kind of a natural social subject at the time because it felt like gospel music and gospel music always has a message. I had been talking to my sister, who was in college at the time, and she was in a social economics class or something. She was a typical college student and thought the weight of the world’s problems were solvable by those as smart as college students. We talked about how in the inner city, the bottom was dropping out for people and they were falling through the cracks. It seemed like it was a natural marriage of ideas and melody.”

The Atlantic City show saw McDonald mix some old with some new. Casino shows are generally short, in the neighborhood of 75 minutes plus an encore. I’ve been told by several artists that’s because the casinos want people back out into the gambling areas spending money rather than sitting in the theater for two or two and a half hours.

I’ve got no beef with that. Everybody – the artists, the venue, the fans – have their own best interests at heart. But in this instance, that may have worked against McDonald a bit.

His set included a handful of songs from his new album, “Wide Open,” which is due out in September. In a short set, though, that may have rubbed some of the diehard Doobie Brothers fans the wrong way. In a totally unscientific poll from a portion of the crowd sitting within earshot, it appeared some of them would have preferred more Doobie Brothers-era material from McDonald.

In fact, McDonald closed the main part of the show with “What A Fool Believes” – a personal Doobie Brothers favorite – after which a portion of crowd left, missing the entire encore and the spirited version of “Takin’ It to the Streets.”

None of that bothered me, though, because this was the first time I had seen McDonald perform live and I wasn’t going anywhere, including out to the slot machines. I like the Tom Johnston Doobie Brothers, I like the Michael McDonald Doobie Brothers and I like the McDonald solo stuff. From what I heard in the new songs, I’ll buy the album when it comes out.

Boz Scaggs joined Michal McDonald on the bill for the Atlantic City show. (Photo by Mike Morsch)

Boz Scaggs joined Michal McDonald on the bill for the Atlantic City show.
(Photo by Mike Morsch)

Also on the bill with McDonald for this show was Boz Scaggs. And although they didn’t actually perform any songs together during the evening, it’s not breaking news that a show featuring Boz Scaggs and Michael McDonald is going to be a great evening of music. How can it not be?

It’s the second time I’ve seen Scaggs in concert, and he didn’t disappoint. He tends to lean toward more bluesy stuff in his live performances, but he’s well aware that those of us of a certain age are there to hear the hits, particularly from his 1976 album “Silk Degrees,” like “Lowdown” and “Lido Shuffle.”

My personal favorite during the set though was a brilliant version of “Georgia,” also from the “Silk Degrees” album but not one of the four songs released as singles (the other two being “What Can I Say” and “It’s Over”) that charted.

One last note from this show. You’ll notice that I included a photo of McDonald playing the guitar with this piece. McDonald is a piano player by trade, and I would have preferred to use a photo of him at the piano. I use a little point-and-shoot camera with a telephoto lens at concerts that allow non-flash photography. It usually serves its purpose from the vantage point of my seat.

But the camera does struggle with concert lighting at times, and the way McDonald was lit while at the piano located at stage left made those photographs washed out and unusable. When McDonald moved away from the piano for a few songs at the center stage mic, the angle and lighting were a bit better. So what you see is the best shot I could get.

Still, that didn’t take away from an enjoyable evening of music by two of my favorite artists.

Shake, shake, shaking booty with KC and The Sunshine Band

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On August 9, 2015

In The Vinyl Dialogues Book

Harry Wayne Casey - a.k.a. KC of KC and The Sunshine Band - belts out one of his classic dance tunes Aug. 8, 2015, at the Tropicana in Atlantic City. (Photo by Mike Morsch)

Harry Wayne Casey – a.k.a. KC of KC and The Sunshine Band – belts out one of his classic dance tunes Aug. 8, 2015, at the Tropicana in Atlantic City.
(Photo by Mike Morsch)

Once tickets had been secured for the KC and The Sunshine Band show Aug. 8 at the Tropicana in Atlantic City, it occurred to me that I maybe hadn’t put enough thought into the specifics of attending the concert.

In the days leading up to the show, one question loomed large: At this age, could I actually shake my booty for an entire KC concert without pulling a hamstring, throwing out my back or asking a paramedic to sit in the seat next to me with a defibrillator at the ready?

At the height of its popularity in the 1970s, KC and The Sunshine Band was all about dance music. No surprise there for those of us who grew up listing to it. The opening lines to one of the band’s biggest hits are, “Everybody, get on the floor, let’s dance. Don’t fight your feelings, give yourself a chance. Oh shake shake shake, shake shake shake. Shake your booty, shake your booty.”

And there was a time, in the mid- to late-1970s, where dancing all night long wasn’t an issue for me. I graduated from high school in the spring of 1977 and started college at Iowa State University in Ames, Iowa, in the fall. Between 1975 and 1977, KC and The Sunshine Band had produced four No. 1 hits: “Get Down Tonight,” “That’s the Way (I Like It),” “Shake Your Booty” and “I’m Your Boogie Man”; and a No. 2 single, “Keep It Comin’ Love.”

KC played to an enthusiastic crowd of booty shakers at the Tropicana gig. (Photo by Mike Morsch)

KC played to an enthusiastic crowd of booty shakers at the Tropicana gig.
(Photo by Mike Morsch)

In the middle of Iowa in 1977, there wasn’t much to do other than dance. (For the purposes of this discussion, tractor pulls don’t count because those were sanctioned events that involved competition and judging.)

So KC and The Sunshine Band was right in my wheelhouse in Iowa in 1977. There was a disco only a few blocks from the dorms. I can neither confirm nor deny that alcohol was involved at the time. But I can say this: If I could recall any of my disco shenanigans, I’m certain they’d be among the fondest memories from my first year of college. (Do a little dance, drink a little beer, throw up tonight, throw up tonight baby.)

But that was nearly 40 years ago. Fortunately, Harry Wayne Casey – a.k.a. KC – realizes that some time has passed. Now that’s not to say that KC’s crowds these days are too old to dance. Quite the contrary. It’s just that we all seem to know our limitations.

KC is now 64 years old, a fact that he revealed during the Tropicana show. “For the young people in the audience, think of it like this: I’m your mom’s NSYNC,” he said, to hoots and hollers from the faithful. “This is what Justin Timberlake is going to look like in 30 years.”

From the curtain, it was apparent we were going to dance, because the first song was “Shake Your Booty.” That sets the tone for a KC and The Sunshine Band concert these days, much like it did back in the day. And I know this because KC himself told me as much.

“‘Shake Your Bootie’ was really a song I came up with because I’d see people fighting the urge, wanting to have a good time, just not being themselves,” said KC in an interview a few weeks ago. “I wrote that song after witnessing people fighting having a good time, fighting those feelings, to just get out there and shake your butt, shake your booty. Have a good time, enjoy life because it goes by quickly. That’s what that song is really about.”

It was the second time I had interviewed KC. In the first interview a few years ago, he detailed the making of the band’s second studio album, the 1975 self-titled “KC and The Sunshine Band” for The Vinyl Dialogues. A portion of the most recent interview included KC’s recollections about the making of the group’s 1976 album, “Part 3,” which I hope to include in Volume III of The Vinyl Dialogues series next year.

But the great thing about a KC and The Sunshine Band show now is that although both KC and the audience members are going to do a lot of dancing, it won’t be constant. Neither the star nor the majority of the fans are 21 years old anymore. To help alleviate that, KC has hired some great females dancers for us to watch as we plop our tired booties back into the theater seats for a bit of a rest.

KC also used three costume changes during the evening. And to give the booty shakers even more time to re-energize, he mixed in a few ballads (but only a few) and told a story or two between some songs. It was a perfect pace set by an experienced performer. We danced . . . a lot. But we also had a couple of well-placed timeouts.

It was the first time I had seen KC and The Sunshine Band live, and it was my wife’s idea. We saw KC perform on TV at the Fourth of July celebration this year in Washington, D.C. She mentioned then that it was a concert she would like to see. As a KC fan, certainly I was in complete agreement, despite the fact that she is a product of the 1980s, so her booty is a bit younger than mine and more capable of being able to shake shake shake for an entire concert.

KC has still got it. He has a much fun as the audience at his shows. An entertainer, a performer, a singer, a songwriter, the Boogie Man keeps it real as well. When his voice didn’t perform like he wanted it to at the beginning of “Please Don’t Go” – the band’s fifth No. 1 single that was released in 1979 – he acknowledged after its conclusion that the song got off to “a rough start.” To me, admitting to being human is an endearing quality for a performer.

And those classic dance songs, well, there’s no question in my mind that they’ve transcended the generations and stood the test of time.

If you don’t believe that, then you’d better check your pulse. You may be beyond the help of any paramedics.

CCR provides an unexpected and wonderful memory

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On August 24, 2014

In The Vinyl Dialogues Book

Doug "Cosmo" Clifford, original drummer for Creedence Clearwater Revival, is still rocking with Creedence Clearwater Revisited.

Doug “Cosmo” Clifford, original drummer for Creedence Clearwater Revival, is still rocking with Creedence Clearwater Revisited.

It was a long drive, negotiating traffic in some of the major metropolitan areas on the East Coast – Washington, D.C., Baltimore, Philadelphia – all in the same day, just to see one of my favorite bands.

But oh my, what a sweet and memorable payoff.

We had taken our daughter to the nation’s capital to start her college career at Catholic University (Motto: Don’t Even Think About Drinking a Beer on This Campus). It was a highly emotional couple of days, as these things tend to be when one sends a child away to college. Two-and-half days of orientation, priests dressed like the San Diego Padres mascot and me threatening any young man who dared cast a leery eye in our direction (My motto: If You Even Think About Laying A Hand on My Daughter, I Will Snap Your Arm Clean Off Your Body and Shove It in Your Ear.)

Getaway day from D.C. proved to be the same day that Creedence Clearwater Revisited – which includes original Creedence Clearwater Revival band members Doug “Cosmo” Clifford on drums and Stu Cook on bass – was performing at the Tropicana in Atlantic City that evening.

An interview with Clifford about the music and the making of the 1970 CCR album “Cosmo’s Factory,” Clifford’s namesake album, is included in The Vinyl Dialogues. So I wanted to see the show and meet Doug and hopefully Stu at the meet-and-greet before the show.

Now it sounds like a long way from Washington, D.C. to Atlantic City, N.J. and it is a couple hundred miles. Add in the concentration of people along the route – through Baltimore and Philly – and it became an even more challenging drive to make it in time for the meet-and-greet before the show.

But we negotiated the trip successfully, despite getting late word that the before the show meet-and-greet had been canceled by the Tropicana (Casino motto: Let’s See if We Can Make Mike Drive All This Way in The Rain and Traffic to Not Meet His Favorite Musicians and Still Get Him to Drop A Few Bucks in the Slot Machines.)

Disappointment, but no worries. We still had the show.

And what a show it was. Doug and Stu still got it and they’re still having fun, 53 years after they first met. They were 13 years old then, and they’re both now 69 and they look fabulous. They play even better.

Not only that, but they’ve surrounded themselves with other great musicians as well, including lead singer John Tristao (that guy can sing), lead guitarist Kurt Griffey (that guy just flat-out jams) and multi-instrumentalist and vocalist Steve Gunner (that guy does it all). (Motto: We Don’t Need John Fogerty.)

(Editor’s note: No disrespect to John Fogerty. He wrote a lot of great songs during the CCR era.)

Coming off an emotional few days with that whole college thing, my wife and I were ready to just relax and listen to some great music. Revisited played all the hits, including some of my favorites like “Hey Tonight,” “Have You Ever Seen The Rain,” “Down on the Corner,” “Who’ll Stop The Rain” and “Lookin’ Out My Back Door.”

And, of course, “Proud Mary.” That’s when it hit, all of a sudden out of nowhere, and tears started streaming down my face. “Proud Mary” doesn’t strike me as a particularly emotional song, but it was one of my parents’ favorite songs. My dad couldn’t carry a tune in a wheel barrow, but I remember him singing that song in the car along with the radio. (Dad’s motto: I Don’t Care That I Can’t Sing for Shit, I’m Singing Along With This Song Because it’s Just That Good.)

I recall my parents dancing to that song every time it was played by cover bands in the early 1970s at the Moose Lodge in Pekin, Illinois, where we’d go on Friday nights because it was catfish dinner night at the lodge and my folks loved to dance and eat catfish.

My dad died in 2006. But I called my mom the next day and told her about the show, and she reminded me of the Moose Lodge story. She remembered dancing to “Proud Mary,” too. (Mom’s motto: I Still Love Catfish and CCR.)

We did get a chance after the show to go to the dressing room and meet Doug and Stu. They are class acts and everything you’d want your musical heroes to be when you get the privilege of meeting them. Friendly, down-to-earth and engaging.

Thanks Creedence Clearwater Revisited. That was worth the long drive, right there, that memory and those tears.

And it reminded me, once again, that I truly am the fortunate son.

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