MIKE SLAYEN – DUDE: A Guitar CD – 12 Notes & the Truth (2018 Mike Slayen)
San Diego’s Mike Slayen crowdfunded his latest album, titled DUDE: A Guitar CD. I think Mike was born with the perfect name; after all, he’s just slayin’ it on this album.
The format is laid back acoustic instrumentals. Upon first track “Chill”, you’ll be hooked immediately. Slayen’s writing on DUDE is consistently memorable. The arrangements have just enough meat — bass, drums/percussion and occasional keys back up the main guitar melodies. The key element to each song is the lead melody. Similar to fellows like Joe Satriani, Mike writes catchy guitar melodies to take the focus. Each track is memorable for that reason.
The musicianship and recording is immaculate. The warm atmosphere is inviting for return listens. DUDE is a perfect CD for chilling and relaxing and it’ll work particularly well on the porch during summer. Mike explores different tempos, and demonstrates an intimate knowledge of the acoustic guitar with his intricate picking. Yes intricate at times, but never anything less than enjoyable. DUDE is a guitar CD but not necessarily for guitarists. DUDE is just a good CD to have for folks who enjoy relaxing and memorable music.
Check out songs such as “The Secret”, “Ice Cream” and “Chill” for a taste of what Mike Slayen does on DUDE. There are exotic and latin influences along the way, and enough variety to make the CD an easy one to listen through. There is even one fairly heavy piece — heavy for acoustic anyway — which is the title track “Dude”.
Go to MikeSlayen.com and check out DUDE. Discerning fans of instrumental guitar music are unlikely to be disappointed.
4/5 stars
Full disclosure: I first “met” Mike Slayen as a reader on this site. I believe that this review is impartial and I would have given DUDE the same score even if I didn’t know Mike.
Are you familiar with the song “Sweet Pain” by Kiss, off 1976’s legendary Destroyer album? Uncle Meat is. If you can’t remember how it goes, here’s a refresher:
Now, listen to Uncle Meat’s version, which I found on my voicemail last week:
My mother in law was in the room when I played this voicemail.
GETTING MORE TALE #644: On the Road with Peter and Ozzy
Peter started coming up to the cottage with us in the summer of 1991, after we both finished highschool. Peter didn’t pack light. On any given trip, Peter would pack the following items:
Baseball gloves & ball
A football
Nintendo games
At least a dozen movies
Food, food and more food
Several tapes for the car
Peter’s favourite artist for cottage road trips was Ozzy Osbourne. During the summer of 1992, No More Tears was in the deck. Peter skipped the ballads. No “Mama I’m Coming Home” for him! We also enjoyed Billy Idol. Peter made a special mission to pick up Whiplash Smile before a road trip. I can recall going to Fairview Mall, and opening the tape in the car. We were also into a band called Transvision Vamp who had a couple great car tunes – “Baby I Don’t Care” was one.
When he had a car CD changer, we played a fun guessing game. We’d throw in Nirvana’s Nevermind, and Weird Al Yankovic’s Off the Deep End. Peter hit shuffle. When we heard the classic chords to “Smells Like Teen Spirit”/”Smells Like Nirvana”, we had to guess who it actually was before the vocals began. It took a while to hear the difference. Eventually I could tell. Weird Al tends to do spot-on covers, instrumentally speaking.
Ozzy was good for passing other cars. Nothing like passing people going 150 kph on the highway, with Ozzy cackling “Crazy Train” out the windows. Black Sabbath was also handy. While visiting Frankenmuth Michigan, Peter scored a three CD Sabbath box set called The Ozzy Osbourne Years. It had virtually every song from the first six Sabbath albums, only missing instrumentals. I can distinctly remember passing cars to “Sabbath Bloody Sabbath”. Peter tried to synch up passing the cars to Ozzy shouting “You bastards!”
When we weren’t rocking, we were laughing. Peter had an extensive collection of comedy tapes and CDs. Andrew Dice Clay was a favourite. We liked his “Christmas song”:
“Suck his dick, til the veins are blue… Suck his dick, til you take his goo… Merry, merry Christmas….”
Dana Carvey also had a hilarious rock opera spoof song about choppin’ broccoli.
But the food! My God. Peter did not skimp on the food. He liked to treat the whole family to a chicken stir fry. He brought all the food and equipment. Once he even made his own chicken balls from scratch, with his mom’s special recipe. Noodles, bean sprouts, chopped veggies, and all the fixings: nothing was missing. Sometimes he’d bring a dessert, and always a bottle of wine. Choppin’ broccoli indeed.
We were never hungry nor bored. When available, we would run into town to buy fireworks. When we ran out, if Peter hadn’t got his fill, we’d go back in town to buy more. My mother used to joke that there was no downtime with Peter. When done one activity, he’d move right on into the next one. And if we had a building project on the go, he’d be there with his tools, in the fray helping out.
Car trips with Peter were unforgettable. Try passing a car while Ozzy shouts “You bastards!” out the window and you’ll have an idea what it was like to hang out with us.
In the 80s, you had to have a Boom Box. Or a Ghetto Blaster. Or whatever you wanted to call a portable tape deck/radio. Everybody had one, because they were awesome.
In order to make your Boom Box truly portable, you needed batteries. There was often a place on the back where you could wrap up and store the power cable. Then you’d load up the deck with batteries. My first Sanyo stereo deck took about eight D-cells. They’d last less than one afternoon of rock and roll. When the tape started to slow down, you knew your batteries were dying.
Next door neighbor George liked to prop his Boom Box up on his shoulder as he walked, like the kid in the video for “The Right to Rock” by Keel. It seemed cool at the time.
My second Sanyo was a dual tape deck with detachable speakers. To make it portable, you just secured the speakers to the sides and plugged in those batteries. This one took even more batteries than my first one. In addition to the D-cells to power the music, it also required two AA batteries for the clock! The truth is, a Boom Box was such a pain in the butt to make portable, that we tended to avoid it. Sure, we could take it to the park and assault the tennis court with Black Sabbath, but it was just better to keep it at home. A Ghetto Blaster, plugged into an extension cord in the garage, could still keep us entertained outdoors. Parents would yell to “turn it down!”, so we would…for a little while before turning up again.
A Walkman was easier on batteries than a Boom Box. The only problem with a Walkman? Nobody else could listen in. So that made it a little awkward and a lot funny when George would walk down the street with his Walkman.
George worked an early shift at Long John Silver’s, which was walking distance. In the morning he could be seen strolling off to work, earphones on his head. My sister and I would watch from the window. As he walked forcefully down the street, suddenly he burst into song. A lot of the time, you couldn’t tell what he was singing. Most memorably though, he serenaded the neighborhood with “Love Gun”.
We watched him walk when he suddenly yelled, “ALRIGHT! LOVE GUN!” just as Paul Stanley did on Alive II. And then George ripped into the chorus: “Love Gun, Looo-ooo-ove Gun…”
It was hard not to laugh. George singing in the mornings was a daily event, rest his soul. We teased George a bit but he was a good person. He was certainly unique and a non-conformist.
My parents bought me a neat little speaker set to go with my Walkman. When fully packed up, it looked like a cylinder with the speakers on each end. When you opened it, you could remove the speakers and set them up on your desk or shelf. Just plug in a Walkman and you were good to go. If you wanted to go portable, there was room inside the set for both speakers and your Walkman. It too was heavy on battery use, but it was a very cool little set. I brought it to school when I needed musical accompaniment to any of my OAC-level presentations.
Who misses stocking up on AA and D-cell batteries? And don’t forget extras for when your Walkman slows down. You don’t want to be stuck without batteries! Isn’t it so much easier to just charge some USB speakers and plug them into your phone? Sure is!
GETTING MORE TALE #642: Who Was Your Servant Last Year?
I had a few big pet peeves at the Record Store, but I absolutely hated those customers who needed me to do everything for them. I don’t mean “Can you put these CDs back for me?” I don’t mind that. If I put them back at least I know they’re going back to the right place. I’d prefer to put them back myself. I’m talking about things far less reasonable. (Note: some of these stories previously appeared in Klassic Kwotes.)
Imagine this scenario.
Customer: “I heard a song on the radio, and it goes like this.” They sing a snippet. “Do you know what it is? They never say the names of the songs on the radio.”
Me: “I can’t tell from that, but I always advise people to call the station when they hear the song so you can ask them what they just played.”
Customer: “Come on you have to know the song. It’s really popular!”
Me: “Sorry I don’t, but the radio station will be able to tell you.”
Customer: “Can you call the radio station for me and ask?”
Whaaaaat? Do you want me to sing that out-of-key snippet too? Come on people. Do your own homework. You heard the song, not me. Be a grown-up and ask yourself. Fortunately, record store kids probably don’t get this question anymore. Radio station websites list all their recently played music now.
Another real favourite: “Can you watch my kid for me while I go to Canadian Tire?”
Who the hell trusts a random record store guy to watch their kid? Bad parenting, people. Never ever do this.
One person asked for a list of everything he bought from us. What? We don’t keep that data. It would be something of an invasion of privacy if we did!
Another gentleman had an SACD (Super Audio CD) that he bought at our store, but was dissatisfied. When he played it at home, the little SACD logo on his player didn’t light up. Why? I don’t know. I’ve never owned any SACDs or any SACD players. But this guy was quite insistent. “I want you to write to Sony and find out why my player doesn’t light up when I play the Super Audio CD I bought here.”
I did not write to Sony and ask. I also couldn’t believe he’d ask me to do it.
One guy lost his entire CD collection. Whether it was in a fire or to theft, I cannot remember. He asked me to help with his insurance claim. He needed retail prices for all the CDs he lost, and he had an extensive list. I complied with his request because sometimes in the past, people would replace their CDs by buying them at my store. I once made a huge $1000 sale off an insurance claim. A lot of people liked coming to a used CD store to replace CDs because they’d get a lot more music for their money.
I went through his list and provided the best estimates for retail prices I could, which took a few days. I did this at home using my own bandwidth. There were some that were out of print that he wouldn’t be able to replace easily, but I got him most of the prices. We then discussed replacing them.
“I could probably get most of them for you used, for half the price, right away,” I told him.
“Oh, I don’t want used,” he demurred.
“That’s what we sell,” I explained, having already done all this work for him.
And I didn’t make a sale – not even one disc. Two days’ work and all wasted, because this guy didn’t bother to check what kind of store he walked in to. He took his insurance claim and went to Future Shop. I guess there’s a sucker born every minute and I was one.
Finally, there was one older gentleman who wasn’t a jerk. Yes, I only have one story about a guy who asked for a lot of help, who wasn’t a jerk.
The man walked in and asked if I could find a CD for him. It was a combo that he had seen play at a resort. If they had CDs for sale, he would like some. Most of the time it’s best to ask the band while you’re at the actual gig if they have merchandise for sale. He knew it wouldn’t be easy for me to find out, so he paid me for my legwork. He handed me a $20. I didn’t want to accept the money but he insisted. “Just let me know if you find anything,” he said, and I got to work.
I found the website for the hotel but there was not much there. I contacted them with as much information as I could provide, hoping at least to find out the name of the group. They never got back to me and I eventually gave up the search.
Yet that was the first customer who asked for a big favour and actually appreciated the effort. I won’t forget that. It’s too bad that there are jerks out there that treat retail employees like their own personal servants.
GETTING MORE TALE returns! You have spoken — you like the series and you like the numbering system. Therefore we aren’t changing a thing. Here’s chapter 641!
GETTING MORE TALE #641: Farmer’s Market Tapes
Much of my highschool downtime was spent trying to build a complete Judas Priest collection. While I was still in grade school, my first Priest was Screaming for Vengeance in 1985. Defenders of the Faith was taped off my buddy Bob. Then came highschool. I bought Turbo at Zellers in 1986. It was followed Priest…Live! in 1987, cementing my love for the band, for real. Collecting began in earnest.
The local Zellers store always had a number of Priest tapes in stock. Adding British Steel, Point of Entry, and Hell Bent for Leather to the collection was just a matter of time and allowance money. Anything before Hell Bent was much harder to find, at least on tape, which was my format in the 80s.
We are fortunate in Kitchener to have two excellent farmer’s markets. The one downtown is cool, but just a little to the north is the big one in St. Jacobs. In the summer, my mom would take my sister and I to the market. Sometimes Grandma would come with us. You could buy anything at the St. Jacobs market. There have always been music dealers with tables there.
July of 1989, I thought I struck rock solid gold at the market. One vendor had a bunch of Priest I’d never seen on tape before, ever. Tapes were $8 each, no tax.
Sad Wings of Destiny and The Best of Judas Priest came home with me that day. I didn’t really know any of the songs, except one: “Rocka Rolla”. Earlier that summer, I bought the Rocka Rolla album on vinyl from Sam the Record Man, figuring I’d never find the tape. The market had Rocka Rolla on tape, and then some! For good measure, I also bought Unleashed in the East that day.
It was wonderful being inundated with fresh Priest. So many tunes I’d never heard before! “The Ripper” and “Victim of Changes” immediately blew me away. “Diamonds and Rust” kicked my ass some more. But something was wrong with two of the tapes.
Sad Wings and Best Of were both originally released on Gull records, and then reissued and reissued and reissued again, often very cheaply. The two farmer’s market cassettes had very nicely printed cover art, but the tapes were utter garbage. They were so shitty that there was only music in one channel. The left side was fine, but there was nothing but a faint echo on the right. Unleashed in the East, released on CBS, was fine. Sad Wings and Best Of were awful. After a few listens, I just couldn’t take it anymore. It was heartbreaking because I was enjoying the songs, but listening to those tapes was horrendous. I eventually replaced them with better copies, and stuck the cover art to a school binder.
Buyer beware! Tapes and their quality issues are no longer really a problem today, but if you’ve never heard of the issuing label, you might want to do your research.
At the conclusion of Record Store Tales (Part 320) I remember thinking “That was fun but I could have written another 320 chapters about the shit that went down there.”
As the sequel series Getting More Tale evolved, I expanded and incorporated a lot of Record Store stories into it. This allowed me to explore some backstory elements that I really should have included in the original Record Store Tales. As time went on and I found my groove, Getting More Tale became a little bit less about music and retail, and a little bit more about me. Thankfully you have hung on for the ride despite my indulgences.
Here we are at #640, the point at which Getting More Tale and Record Store Tales are of equal size.
It’s a potential crossroads. Should I shut down Getting More Tale and that numbering system? Music will remain the primary focus, but could the chapter numbers be a turn off to new readers? Or do they entice people to go back? Should I come up with a new name for this? Getting More Tale became a catch-all for virtually anything I wrote that wasn’t a review.
I put it to you. If you’ve been reading along, you know what I write.
Leave your comment below.
1. Should I shut down Getting More Tale & the numbering system and re-launch as something new?
If you have been keeping up with Cancer Chronicles, then you know that after surgery, passing gas can be a challenge. Even tougher: pooping!
Mrs. LeBrain’s successful surgery resulted in some unpleasant side effects, such as constipation. But don’t worry. She kept me posted every step of the way.
It was a joy when she sent me the text message below:
Thank you Burger King for you assistance in this matter.
Yes folks she’s back! She is home, resting comfortably now. We are celebrating by ordering in Chinese (and maybe sushi for me too). Jen will be watching her beloved Maple Leafs on our nice big screen.
Her strength at this time has been unbelievable. Every movement is pain but she made it back safe and sound. She gets even stronger daily. I can’t wait to see how she’s doing by this time next week. She should be making a full recovery in about six weeks, barring anything unexpected.
Of course, this is not necessarily the end of Cancer Chronicles. We will see Dr. Sugimoto in a couple weeks to go over test results and follow up on Jen’s recovery. Even with clean test results, she will be monitored for the next five years.
So, it’s not “over over”, but for now this battle is won. Fuck you cancer. You didn’t beat us this time. Just look at that face. Does that look like someone who’s been beaten? Not by a long shot. That’s one of the strongest faces I know.
Thanks again for all the wonderful support here in this rock and roll community. I have not have time to respond to anyone, but every message is read and cherished. You rock. And so does Jen!
First year of university involved “frosh week”. All the new students would have events and basically just party for a week. I wasn’t into that and I only attended the first night. It concluded with an Australian comedy band playing some amusing novelty songs. Wish I could remember their name.
My friend Andy, who was accepted at the University of Waterloo, had different entertainment for frosh week. “We had this shitty band called Barenaked Ladies,” he told me. Barenaked Ladies? The fuck was that?
Barenaked Ladies were an acoustic group from Scarborough Ontario who specialised in quirky and often humorous original songs. Little did I know that their Yellow Tape demo was making waves. I was focused on what was happening in Canadian metal. It didn’t take long after that Waterloo gig for the band to gain national awareness. Their excellent cover of Bruce Cockburn’s “Lovers in a Dangerous Time” got a nation wide release on a tribute album called Kick at the Darkness. The quintessentially Canadian music video was in constant rotation.
And for comparison:
The Cockburn cover was impressive. It showed off the central vocal harmonies of Steven Page and Ed Robertson, and it was obvious the band were schooled on their instruments. Barenaked Ladies didn’t focus on mainstream instruments, preferring double bass and congas.
My sister became a fan quickly, and when their first official album Gordon was released in ’92, she dove right in. Before long she had a vast collection of Barenaked rarities, including a bootleg tape she recorded herself at a Kitchener show. Some of the bands’ most popular songs with fans were not on Gordon, such as “McDonalds Girl” and the Public Enemy cover “Fight the Power”.
I casually followed the band along with her, appreciating their lyrical cleverness and occasional emotional depth. I helped her collect rarities at record shows. She sent pianist/percussionist Andy Creeggan a vintage 1977 Darth Vader sticker to put on his congas. And he did. And it can be seen in some video footage if you look hard enough.
I went to see them with her on their 1996 Born on a Pirate Ship tour. I was impressed with a lot of their new songs, especially the intense “Straw Hat and Old Dirty Hank”, a track about an Anne Murray stalker. They played it live at that show (which featured Mike Smith aka “Bubbles” in opening band Sandbox).
As soon as Steven Page hit the stage, he seemed to be simmering. He was dressed in his goofy shorts as usual, but he seemed…angry? Intense. It really came out in “Straw Hat and Old Dirty Hank” which boiled over. I gained a real appreciation for the band that night, and also for Steven Page as an artist. Whatever was bothering him that day (if that was indeed the case), he poured it into the show. It was an incredible night.
Unfortunately for us, Barenaked Ladies evolved into the mainstream over the years. Both of us lost interest as they changed. Andy Creeggan left the band after their second album Maybe You Should Drive, which meant the congas were gone. Jim Creeggan traded his big stand up bass for an electric more often. The emotion seemed to drain from their albums as time went on.
I wasn’t very surprised when Steven Page left the band in 2009. As their music became more campy and often aimed at kids, Page was less comfortable. His drug bust in New York was the real shock, since he was caught doing cocaine. That certainly clashed with the band’s family friendly image.
The band carried on and Page went solo, but there’s a new twist. On March 25 2018, Barenaked Ladies will be inducted into the Canadian Music Hall of Fame. It’ll be done during the Juno Awards broadcast, and Steven Page will be returning to perform with them. “I hope it’s fun,” said Page. “I honestly haven’t been in the same room as the other guys – all the other guys at once – since I left the band. It’ll be good to see them all, but it’s going to be odd. It’s not like we’re getting back together.”
Odd indeed, but stranger things have happened. Will you be checking out the big reunion on March 25?
MIKE SLAYEN – DUDE: A Guitar CD – 12 Notes & the Truth (2018 Mike Slayen)
mikeladano.com 