San Antonio’s got Moxy

San Antonio’s always been a rockin’ town. One of the primary reasons I’ll make the trip is because the city attracts classic hard rock acts that Austin usually won’t get. The true gems of San Antonio rock are the bands that broke onto the album-oriented hard rock scene of the mid-70s but didn’t get the national attention that Aerosmith or KISS received. Local favorites like Legs Diamond (California), UFO (England) and Moxy (Canada) were every bit as talented and influential as their Clear Channel classic rock-format colleagues that survive to sell thousands more CDs to this day.

The genre that predated the 80s heavy metal onslaught has always played well in traditional blue-collar places like New Jersey, Cleveland and Detroit. But something about San Antonio was a little bit different. In that era, albums and touring shows were the widest distribution a rock band could get. There were no cable networks for music videos, and the Internet and mp3s would be unknown for another generation or two. This made local radio DJs extremely influential, especially those with freedom to play entire album sides on their shows (the longer the better, for those wishing to step outside and indulge in a smoke of their choice).

San Antonio’s “Godfather” of rock was Joe Anthony of the KISS/KMAC stations. Anthony was hip to rising rock acts and would showcase the ones he thought most deserving by giving their LPs airtime on his shows. Many of these acts would be invisible to Texans from that decade had Anthony not played them. Besides his work as a DJ, Anthony also was a master promoter, bringing the domestic and imported acts he loved most to Texas and helping them gain a local fanbase. Moxy was one such band.

Moxy was a Toronto five-piece that debuted with a self-titled album seen as their best and most influential work by die-hard fans. The first album became popular through Texas airwaves and Anthony organized to bring them to the Lone Star State with an Australian opening act also popularized in San Antonio by the name of AC/DC. In July of 1977, Moxy headlined AC/DC’s first-ever United States show at Austin’s famed Armadillo World Headquarters. They followed that show with consecutive nights in San Antonio, Corpus Christi and Dallas. Texans had gotten a taste of international rock and roll flavor- and they loved it.

Fast forward 30+ years. Music has changed, but favorites haven’t necessarily followed suit. San Antonio still prides itself as a rock Mecca, every bit as interested in the old guard as they were three decades ago. The names of bands, long reunited and broken up and reunited again, that come through this town reads like an inventory of your father and mine’s vinyls: Moxy, Budgie, Montrose, Saxon… Many of these bands come from other countries, continents even. And if they do only a handful of U.S. dates- even one- San Antonio is sure to be on the calendar.

With that spirit, thousands of San Antonians flocked to a free show at a Harley-Davidson dealership on the outskirts of town Saturday night to witness one of their favorite bands, Canadians at that, return to their second home. Moxy is not what they used to be, at least on paper. With deaths and retirement, plus the expected lineup changes after 35 years of being a band, Moxy is now a four-piece with lead guitarist Earl Johnson as their only remaining member from the “classic” mid-late 70s period. That didn’t stop them from rattling through all of the fan favorites, including 7 of the 8 tracks on that blockbuster 1975 debut album. Johnson was masterful in his first San Antonio gig handling both rhythm and lead duties, proving to all in attendance that he may have even gotten better with age since the last time I saw them, a 2004 gig at the Sunken Gardens with Budgie and Michael Schenker, a guitar legend in his own right. The newest addition to the band was lead singer Russ Graham (ex-Killer Dwarfs). Graham delighted in hitting the high notes and energy of original vocalist Buzz Shearman, even if he whiffed on some of the lyrics and spent many a moment looking down at written cue cards during the set. Moxy closed with SA radio staple “Sail On Sail Away,” and the lighters came out in the light rain. Soon denim-vested, perm-mulleted, middle-aged men- and I- started headbanging along to the epic power ballad and all was right with the night.

Not to mention the lawless nature of the event. No firearm checks, no gate. Just $5 for parking in a grass field and you could walk right in. Had my father and I known we would have brought a cooler and set up shop selling Bud Lights for a dollar less than the licensed vendors were. Damn.

Here’s to hoping Moxy returns soon, because this close proximity to San Antonio that I take for granted won’t last once I graduate in the spring.

A screaming sermon from the pulpit of rock and roll

In high school I often associated grades with the band(s) I was listening to most during that particular year. Junior year was the Judas Priest year of my school career.

I had been a fringe fan for a year or so, of course being familiar with their handful of radio-heavy hits because I had been an avid listener to classic rock stations since eighth grade. The summer after my sophomore year I became interested in combing my father’s record collection for inspiration in my quest for good music. I came across two LPs from Priest’s pre-British Steel catalog; an era of Judas Priest most people with a working knowledge of “Breaking the Law” have no idea exists.

Around the same time I was researching late-70s hard rock on the internet and found discographies of influential NWOBHM artists. The site mentioned JP’s 1978 release Stained Class as the greatest classic metal album of all time. I took note in the back of my mind but didn’t scour Amazon or local music stores for the release as classic Priest still wasn’t entirely on my radar.

In the fall of 2001 I was a high school junior driving my way around town and listening to the likes of AC/DC, Ted Nugent and Scorpions. I had read online that Priest would be releasing remastered CDs of their Columbia releases and decided the 70s-era Priest was something worth trying. I debuted their epic live Unleashed in the East in my Sony Discman on the bus for our annual Wurstfest field trip and was pleased with the results.

In early January I was still on Winter Break and spent the majority of my free time abusing my still newfound driving privileges by commuting around Austin (when it was more novelty than hassle), finding the occasional music store to blow my allowance on. I found another re-release, 1977’s Sin After Sin. This was the band’s first release after signing with Columbia and signaled a move in a heavier direction away from the more bluesy hard rock they had gone with on their first two albums. This was the tour where they were joined by Les Binks on drums and made their U.S. debut, blowing away audiences who hadn’t heard anything close to the style of rock Priest were playing live.

The following month I was preparing for another German Club trip to San Antonio for the Texas regional high school contest. The day before I went to the mall and finally bought Stained Class as listening material for the trip. In my haste to leave the house that morning I had brought the Discman but forgotten the headphones. Cockblocked.

That night when I returned home I raced to my bedroom and put in the CD. What I heard for the next hour was unlike any other listening experience I had had to date. What amounts to the first side of the album is simply amazing. The album opened with Exciter, which was a strong tone setter for what was to come. Better By You, Better Than Me is of course the band’s cover song which led a couple of doped-up Nevada teens to try and blow their heads off while listening to in 1985. It’s not the strongest track on the album, but is a pretty heavy take on the original Spooky Tooth version and doesn’t sound too out of place on this release.

Then it came to the fourth (and title) track, Stained Class. My head exploded as I listened again. And again. And again. The galloping flange guitar effect. Rob Halford’s perfectly executed high notes. And Glenn Tipton’s guitar solo! My god! (3:30) That 20 seconds alone got replayed for the next two hours. With repeated future headphone listens, the subtleties of the song slowly get recognized and appreciated. What I seem to take away more and more from this song is just how beautiful Binks’ drumming is on the track. The timing of the cymbal crashes during the bridge are phenomenal and make me wish he had stayed with this group through their commercial successes in the 80s.

Stained Class was behind many user/screen/account names I had in the past, and for good reason, because as music became a more important piece of my life this album and song were consistently the favorite. Since moving through college I have moved away from the rock album and more toward individual mp3 tracks, but this particular release will always have a special place with me when I remember my high school years. And besides, it just fuckin’ rocks.