Rock Story Archives - Patrick Capone

Ronnie James Dio – Fallen Brethren

October 26, 2020 by mrcapone

Black Sabbath, Chicago, Concert, DIO, Heaven & Hell, Northerly Island, Patrick Capone, Rock Radio, WLUP

by Patrick Capone

Originally Published in ViaOmega Magazine November 2017

It was an unusually cool August summer night alongside the Chicago lake shore as I swung the chrome kickstand down on my Harley Davidson Fatboy and began the walk to what would be my last meeting with the incredible Ronnie James Dio. A powerful storm front had moved through the area earlier in the day, and considering the vulnerable location of the Northerly Island concert venue, many thought this show would never happen. My boots smacked against the standing water on the sidewalk as I looked up at the large banner over the main gate “Dio, Iommi, Butler, Appice.. Heaven & Hell” O fuck Yeah… I live for this!

WLUP The LOOP main office and broadcast studio located in the Merchandise Mart.

As usual, the corporate radio bastards that I worked for at the time had sent me as their ambassador. The suits hadn’t set foot inside a real metal concert in decades and they certainly weren’t going to show up tonight. Good. The last thing we needed was a bunch of executives in pressed white shirts getting drunk in their secluded VIP area, pulling me from one client to another, all while telling stories about their frat days in Michigan. No sir, not tonight. This show was for true fans of the music. I had gladly accepted the assignment, slipped the complimentary front row tickets inside the breast pocket of my leather jacket with a grin, and assured them I would take care of everything. One of the younger execs who looked like Mr. Bean said “Tight!” and held out his hand for an awkward fist bump. I pretended to ignore it as I walked out of the office. Dorks.

The mission was simple. I was to watch masters of their craft perform songs from some of the most iconic metal albums of all time.. Right in front of my face.. And then, 20 minutes before the end, slip out to a special side gate to meet up with the LiveNation representative and chaperone a couple dozen extremely excited contest winners to a meet and greet with the band.

It was clear from the fully packed stands and the roar of the massive crowd that nobody was going to miss tonight’s concert. Tony came walking out in front of his wall of Laney amplifiers as Geezer hammered thunder out of his bass rig.. But it was when Ronnie darted across to the front of the stage, throwing his hand high in the air, and with classic Dio style and precision he screamed an unearthly “COME ON!” that seemed to echo clear across lake Michigan and into infinity. Now that’s a FUCKING METAL SHOW!

For the next hour and a half I was once again mesmerized by the incredible vocal power and range that Dio unleashed on the willing audience. Looking straight up at the stage, it is easy to forget that he only stood a petite 5 feet 4 inches. But that voice, a rich articulate baritone that could slide up and down the octaves with ease while still pulling a growl that sounded straight from the abyss. Impressive. Hell Yes! So impressive I almost lost track of time, and with a quick juke to the isle I was off to randevu for the meet and greet.

As I arrived at the specified side gate, several very excited fans were already waiting in anticipation. More were walking up, all smiles, patting each other on the back. We could hear the echo of Neon Nights bouncing off the stands, and in between selfies and hand shakes I was glancing over the corner trying to let my eyes grab a last look at this amazing performance. Damn, they so sounded good.

The LiveNation representative showed up in their usual caffeine induced panic, juggling a cell phone and clipboard and not really focusing on anything. “Thank God you’re here! I know you got this. When the manager opens the gate, can you escort them all backstage? You’re the best. I have to go”. She handed me a bunch of VIP passes and ran off to some other emergency.

Our backstage winner’s quickly huddled around me like well behaved school children ready to go on their first outside field trip. They hadn’t understood a word she said and I think they were worried it was cancelled. You would have thought I was giving them all puppies as they each received their purple VIP sticker and proudly stuck it on their shirts. I felt a bit like Wonka outside the chocolate factory ready to start the tour.

“You are all in luck today”, I said with a big smile and pointed to the fence. “In a few seconds this gate will slide open and we are going to take a short walk backstage to meet the band. Remember that we are their guests and it is extremely generous of them to take the time to see you after they just performed a show. As you will shortly see, you are about to meet some of the coolest, nicest, and most polite people in rock and roll. Please be aware, that Tony has been suffering with some seriously painful problems with his right hand, so it would be nice if you offered your left hand to shake instead.”

The chain link gate suddenly slid open with a noisy clatter and a grizzled band manager in a t-shirt 1 size too small exclaimed “Ah, Mr. Capone!.. Are these all yours?… Follow me and don’t touch anything.”

The dark backstage area was abuzz with roadies everywhere. These are the true hero’s of rock and roll, the first on the scene, the last to drive away when it’s over. This was their game time and they were straight to business like a well oiled machine. Most barely looked up to give us a glance as they pushed ridiculously large rolling cases across the pavement to the waiting semi trucks.

Upon arriving at the large white rental party tent I was surprised to see that the band was already waiting for us. Several folding tables were lined up next to each other with Vinny and Geezer sitting behind them like kids ready to eat dinner, each holding a black Sharpie like it was a fork. Tony was standing behind the tables gripping his right hand chest high like an injured dog. How the man performed a whole show like that is unbelievable. Ronnie was on the far left with a plush white towel around his neck. He had chosen to move in front of the tables so that he could be closer to the fans who were lined up in a long single file.

Over the next hour, I stood off to the side smiling as I watched Ronnie James Dio take the time to talk with every single person. He would look everyone in the eye, intently listening to what they had to say. He would graciously thank them for their kind comments, even though he had heard the same thing twenty times already that day. It was never a problem to take a picture, or sign an item. A hug? You bet! He was glad to do it. This was the DIO I knew and loved.

The scruffy manager stood by me, “aren’t you going to get in line? I know the guys would like to thank you.”

“O no, it’s OK. This is for them.” I pointed to the winners. “I get to do this stuff all the time. Thanks for setting it all up. The boys have made a lot of people very happy tonight.”

It’s true, in all my years in this crazy business I don’t get autographs, or take that many photo’s with the artists that I meet . That’s just not my style really.

As the last person finished, the assistants offered to take the winners out the back gate for me. Geezer and Vinny stood up and stretched a bit. The tent was now mostly empty.

“Look, I know the guys want to say thanks. It will only take a minute” insisted the manager.

Tony was close, so I offered my left hand for a shake, he was surprised and said thank you. I told him that I couldn’t believe he played so well with the hand like that. When are you going to get the surgery? We talked about our Rottweilers, Laney amps, and old guitars… as two old guitar players will do.

Ronnie came walking up to us. He always seems so frail and small. Where does that voice come from? He wanted to thank me for all that the station had done to to help promote the show and the band. I talked about how well the sound system was that night, and how great the vocals cut through the mix. How was Wendy? Just a couple of long haired guys talking a bit of shop and family without any agenda.

“Well, I better get going”, I said. “I’ve got a long ride on the bike back home tonight and the dogs are probably wondering where I am. I’ll see you the next time you’re in town. Thanks for another great show!”

Ronnie gave me a genuine firm hug and said “No, Thank You!”

Ronnie James Dio Statue Kavarna Bulgaria

Only a month or so later, Ronnie was diagnosed with stomach cancer. Like most men he hadn’t gone in for regular doctor visits. On the 16th of May he died, and the world lost not only one of the greatest voices in rock and roll, but one of the coolest most genuinely sweet people I have ever met. I miss him.

But you know, you and I are lucky. You see, we are part of a very special tribe. Because when you scrape off all the corporations and sales people, the contracts and bureaucracy, the money and the merchandise, what’s left is the real marrow of rock and roll.. The artists and the fans. The tribe. Our tribe.

And our tribe is unique my brothers and sisters.. For we have wizards. These wonderful artists who have learned how to manipulate harmonic frequencies in such a way that they can cause physical and emotional effects on those who choose to listen. Amazing! But what’s even more amazing is that these wizards have mastered the ability to lay down a timeless imprint of themselves, thus creating a true immortal snapshot with all the magic still intact. No other tribe has this gift. Immortality.

You and I can put on an old Metallica vinyl and visit with our brother Cliff and revel in his aggressive bass style, and he is there in the room with us once again. A young guitarist today will hear Randy Rhoads for the first time, and will try as best he can to emulate that crazy classical metal hybrid sound into his own guitar playing, and Randy is with him at that moment, and now truly even a part of him.

These wizards, these fallen brethren, have all left us a piece of themselves that we can revisit anytime we wish. Or like the young guitarist, to learn from, and absorb into our own artistic style and creations. What an amazing gift we have.

I often look back at my last meeting with Ronnie James Dio and wish I would have talked to him more that night, or maybe even held that hug just a little longer. I wish I would have told him how much we all appreciated and admired his work. But you know, even after all that, I don’t think anything would have changed. Even after all that, I’ll bet he would have done the same.. And gave me a big hug and said “No, Thank You!”

So, today I will grab a stack of righteous vinyl to bring into my rock radio show. I’ll jump on my Harley Davidson Fatboy and take that ride out to the small cinder block broadcast studio in the middle of an Illinois cornfield. I will play DIO, and Cliff, and Randy, and Mr. Bonham, and share their stories and magic… and perhaps you and I can take some comfort in knowing that radio frequency signal of mine will continue through the atmosphere carrying their work into space, where it will travel forever and ever. Immortal.

This is the original photograph from 1928 of students taking a break from a pageant, that inspired the painting by painting by Lynn Curlee, that was used as the album cover for Black Sabbath’s Heaven & Hell.

Van Halen Diver Down and Sony Walkman WM-1

Van Halen Diver Down Walkman Story

October 7, 2020 by mrcapone

Rock Story, Van Halen

I have a thousand memories with Eddie Van Halen’s music playing in the background. This is just one.

I was super excited as I walked into Woodfield mall to make my biggest purchase ever, a brand new Sony Walkman and the latest, coolest, greatest, Van Halen album – Diver Down.

Back in 1982, I was making $3.35/hour busing tables at the Barrington Hills Country Club. Tips weren’t allowed. The members had made sure to pass that rule. Like most gigs in life, it had it’s cool parts. The chef always made the wait staff amazing dinners before the shift started… and the place was riddled with secret rooms, hidden behind trick doors, like the linen closet.. where members would sneak off to drink and play cards back during prohibition. Long forgotten rooms in pristine original condition. A perfect place for the underage wait staff to have a couple of covert beers after cleanup.

To raise the money, I made sacrifices. Concert tickets to lesser bands were denied. Bootleg beer runs to Wisconsin, minimized. Kinda. I had to save up about $135. It seemed like a small fortune. I wanted to buy a new guitar amp.. Well, I needed to buy one is probably more accurate.. but the idea of being able to walk around anywhere while listening to a cassette tape of my favorite guitarist up at full volume just seemed like too cool an idea to pass up. It would be worth the money.

Into the mall. Weird echoes of background music mixed with the sound of people’s voices, fountains, and the squeak of gym shoes on the tile floors. I walked past Orange Julius. Why does it always smell like pretzels over here? Oh yeah, Annies.. Can’t get one, need to save the coin. I walked past the Merry Go Round store who had a nice new display of the latest parachute pants and zippered jackets. I liked the British flag tank top, I might have to try and pick that up if I have any change left.

A quick look left and I could see a couple of girls hanging out by the 3 story spiral brick staircase. Their hair was perfect. On the 2nd floor, ACDC was blaring out of The Alley, a legendary headshop where all the cool kids in concert shirts and hiking boots hung out. Inside you could see acrylic bongs of all sizes and colors, with cigarettes oddly stuck in all of the bowls.

I always liked to swing by the main fountains in the middle. It was cool to go inside the tunnel beneath the fountain and check out the fish tanks. It was dark, and peaceful, and played this crazy new age synthesizer music on a loop. The music was titled “Fish Music” by an artist named Suzanne Ciani https://youtu.be/ZSKVH4EcgTc

Out of the tunnel and I find myself now staring at The Gap. A sign in the door says they have Levi’s 501 jeans for only $19.99. There’s a strong smell of Mcdonald’s hamburgers and french fry oil drifting down from the 2nd floor. The Ice Rink next door is offering daily lessons. Potential skaters were encouraged to contact the rink’s manager, Bill Krzyston. OK, I need to stop screwing around.

I walked into Camelot Music. The floor carpeting was like the color of lava. Bright. Red. Loud. Ah, the mall. I’m checking out the Sony Walkmans by the counter when a dude in a white shirt and black tie makes the usual sales guy appearance. I flash the advertisement I ripped out of the newspaper. They beat Schaak Electronics by $5 and offered an additional discount on the purchase of a new tape. He pulled the demo out from behind the counter. It looked like a large grey brick with bold blue print on it that proclaimed it was the Sony Stereo Walkman WM-1. It was in stock. Cool. I’m down. Off to the tapes.

With the wide arm gesture of a circus ringmaster, and all the confidence of a true assistant manager, their large selection of cassette tapes was revealed. I quickly interrupted his well prepared speech on the genre and alphabetic artist organizational strategy.. S. T. U. V… Van Halen. Looks like.. Yes.. 1 copy left of Diver Down. I pull it quickly from the stack.

I inspected my targeted choice and wondered what the tracks I hadn’t heard yet would sound like. There was nothing worse than paying full price for an album to only enjoy 1 or 2 songs. I hated that the album cover was printed so small on the j-card. It takes all the fun away from reading the sleeve. Oh well. No worries. It will work. I’ll take the chance.

“Do you have batteries? It takes 4!” announced the ever present salesman. “We have some by the counter. I’ll ring you up.”

With $8 left in my pocket, I sat on a row of the dark bricks that doubled as a bench outside the store and began to unbox my glorious new device. I had to bite the cellophane wrapper on the cassette tape and still couldn’t get it to rip correctly. Finally, I insert the cassette into the Walkman and shut the plastic door. 4 AA batteries slide inside. I then placed the very first set of headphones I would ever own onto my head and turned the volume up to 8.. That seems about right.

I hit Play.

Cymbals swell. The volume increases. Warm crunchy guitar fills my head. David screams “Ew Wee”. The sounds of the mall are all long gone. O man, this is kick ass. I smile. Life is good.

I clip the magical silver brick to my pants pocket and begin my journey back through the mall. Am I walking too fast?

The guitar licks are amazing! Hang ‘em High!
OMG, I want a guitar that sounds like that.

Cathedral comes on. I love a cool intro. Lush chorus, clean guitar tones. The notes swell and echo with a classical phrasing that is pure genius. Wow, how is he doing that?
I’m pretty sure I’m walking too fast.

I turn it up to 9. Intruder. WTH! Awesome!
Rock and Roll!
Pretty Woman!

The sounds of the mall start to sneak back in through the small headphones. The tape player clicks off. I perform a quick gunslinger move and snap the brick from my back pocket. Eject. Flip. Close. Play.

The music returns, and I like this side even more than the last.
Dancing in the Street. Right on! Chicago!

Another cool intro with Little Guitars.
Man, I’m so glad I bought this album. A worthy purchase to be sure.

I liked the mall a lot more with Van Halen cranking through headphones. It was like the whole world got a new paint job. A much cooler paint job. Hey, those girls are still standing by the staircase. I’ll go check out the Alley again.

I proceeded to play. Flip. Repeat. Until about 3 hours later when I was walking down the street by my house for no other reason than to listen to the album.. again… when the music started slowing down, slower, slower.. and the batteries finally died a slow sad death. I turned around, headed straight back uptown to the local Jewel. I took my last $8 and bought as many double A batteries as I could afford.

And I listened to Eddie Van Halen’s guitar..
Over.. and over..
Play. Flip. Repeat.

Capone’s 5 Cool Led Zeppelin Songs

August 28, 2014 by mrcapone

Led Zeppelin, Rock Story, The LOOP

Led Zeppelin, Top 5, WLUP

It doesn’t take somebody long after I meet them before they figure out that I am one of those people that really loves music. All kinds. Truly… But especially Rock and Roll. From the old school fingerstyle blues of Robert Johnson’s acoustic guitar, through the effortless harmonies of the Beatles and the Dave Clark 5, to the primal screams of Robert Plant, the masterful bass lines of Geddy Lee, and the thunder of Metallica, yeah man, I LOVE ROCK AND ROLL!

So, it should be no surprise that I am often asked for my top 5. What are your top 5 favorite albums? songs? guitarists? concerts? Some of the best discussions are often started with these very questions.. And perhaps a couple of heated disagreements as well. Peart! no way man Bonham! What about Larz? LARZ?! The keg is spilled. Madness ensues. This can be tricky.

Look, I simply can’t pick only 5, or 10, or 20. I’ll think of another worthy addition that MUST be included, and another, and that will continue infinitely, forever and ever. A mad time loop is created. There are simply too many possibilities. Yes, tricky.

Perhaps the solution is to hyper define the query. Eliminators must be presented. Yes, that’s it. Let’s mark out a ball field here. ie. What are your top 5 rock songs recorded in 1977 featuring notable guitar solos from white American males.. in their 20s.. with long hair? Better. Yeah. Kinda. Nope, this is still impossible.

Regardless, the gauntlet has been thrown down yet again. The boss’s email read simply “Gentlemen, I need a blog about your top 5 Zeppelin songs for our upcoming Whole Lotta Zep Weekend.”

Horror. I began pacing the LOOP studio in deep discussion with myself. 5! 5? Impossible. How can I?… I can’t… I’ll start by elimination.. so.. well.. ok, is Bron-Y-Aur Stomp a top 5? well, sure to me, there was that campfire in 83 and the cheerleader, I had the acoustic guitar out and played that tune..and.. Does that count? Wait, what about Moby Dick? Top 5? Sure.. Ok… ah.. That won’t work either.

I now sat at the mixing board with my forehead pressed into my hands, elbows on the worn wooden console, thinking. Doomed. Impossible. Darkness.

Rock and Roll, it has to be in the top 5, right? Every guitarist should learn it, and Bonham said it was the song that made his butterflies go away during live shows. Sure. Ok. Stairway? Too easy, but worthy.. It always reminds me of 8th grade dances at St. Anne’s and the smell of Loves Baby Soft cologne.

Wait.. How long have I been thinking about this? I’m getting nowhere.

I must consult the oracle. I grabbed my new reissue Zeppelin II vinyl and placed it randomly on the turntable. I placed the needle down on the first track of side 2. The sound of Jimmy’s guitar and that magical lick filled the studio. I remembered playing that tune with my high school band. I could smell the warm rehearsal room amps, and the hint of something else drifting over that haze. My friends always liked it when I would rip into the solo. Yeah, this is a good idea. The answer will be made clear. It’s in here.

As the cool sound of a Chicago style electrified harmonica started to fade off in the distance, and the needle automatically lifted off of Bring It On Home and rested back on the side. I stood up abruptly.

A scene from the Last Samurai plays in my head. I see Tom Cruise in a death scene. This is odd. “Like the blossoms on the cherry tree, they are ALL perfect.” The Samurai dies. Ah, I get it.

NO SIR, I WILL NOT GIVE YOU 5!

Perfect. Yes, they are all.. PERFECT. From the open-tuning fingerstyle magic of Jimmy on Black Mountain Side, to the corny Hot Dog, Kashmir to Stairway, yes sir, I argue they are ALL perfect.. And all well worthy of my top 5.

Now, I’m going to go watch the Last Samurai again. I’m a bit disturbed it jumped in my head like that.