What we’re doing here, if you just joined me, is going through the acts and songs presented on the DVD, Living Legends of Rock and Roll: Live From Itchycoo Park, a chronicle of sorts of the 1999 festival held on the current site of Bonnaroo.
That’s the what.
The why, still a mystery.
Christopher Cross (or, as I like to call him, Xopher Cross): On what Bizarro world is the kind of beige wallpaper yacht pop perpetrated by Xopher Cross considered a rock festival attraction? Same kinda world where this (in my IMO) vocally-challenged, reptilian creature can sell millions of copies of such thin broth as “Sailing,” “Ride Like the Wind,” and “Arthur’s Theme (Best That You Can Do),” that last, far and away the worst thing Bacharach has his name anywhere near.
The great preponderance of mediocre acts, at worst, grate on my nerves only when I’m trapped in an enclosed environment with their issue, say, in a car with someone else controlling the tunes or in the dentist’s chair. I will confess, however, Xopher’s music makes me not just ever-so cross, but outright angry.
The year he hit big, 1980, was possibly the worst to date in pop music since Elvis debuted. It was not only this guy’s pop pap, but such treacle as Air Supply, Kenny Rogers’ “Lady,” and Hall and Oates embarrassing remake of “You’ve Lost That Lovin’ Feeling” were crowding Elvis Costello and the Clash off the charts. It was a year in music that was capped off, in December, with the murder of a Beatle. THAT’S how bad 1980 was.*
[* If that weren’t enough, Professor Longhair also died that year, another tough knock to an aspiring piano player.]
And the plaintive, reedy, paper-thin voice of Christopher Cross (real name: Christopher Charles Geppert) was absolutely inescapable. Even when his material was passable, as with “Sailing,” his abrasive articulations render it unlistenable. I’ve talked here before about my disgust over the film, “Arthur.” The thought that it required four experienced composers to craft the two awkward verses and one incessant, ludicrous chorus—none of which make much sense even with a knowledge of the film—is testiment to the lazy songwriting that characterized the early 80s.
Plus, my band had to learn to play “Sailing” for a gig we should never have accepted, and which was as dismal as a prom with a Xopher Cross theme could be.
Like Styx and Steppenwolf before him, Cross is given two selections on the DVD program and, of course, they are “Sailing” and “Arthur.” In some weird affectation that must pass as his live performance style, Cross compounds the inherent annoying qualities of his voice by biting off the ends of most of his lines of lyrics. Bad as I think his voice is on his recordings, live, it is simply awful, lacking in any kind of timbre or sustain.
He at least has an interesting, competent band, featuring two very presentable women on keys and drums, who serve as a welcome relief when they cut away from their band leader. The bass player’s vocal harmonies bolster CC on the verses of “Sailing,” and the others chime in on the chorse, to nice effect. I could see myself enjoying the band if I were a couple martinis into a mellow cocktail lounge experience. At a massive rock fest, so much less so.
To recap, nothing about Christopher Cross, from his huge success to his inclusion at the Itchycoo Festival or the DVD, make one particle of sense to me. At least part of this performance is available on YouTube, as of this writing, so judge for yourself, if you like.
[Cross was recently interviewed on PopDose and, to my amazement, seemed personable and reasonably modest, for someone whose debut album earned a Grammy for every chubby finger on his hand, and talks about approaching his newest album “from a real guitar place … ‘cause that’s where my roots are from.” Although he acquits himself nicely on guitar at Itchycoo, but where in his hit singles are his “guitar place” roots at all evident? And he can’t possibly be nice enough to compensate for the blight he and his kind inflicted on pop culture.]
[<---
Xtopher Cross, with the band, Flash, showing where his roots "are from"]Keys = As noted, an easy-on-the eye woman who plays quite well, if sometimes from an awkward semi-crouch, due to the inadequate level of her lower-tiered instrument. Big deal like Xopher, and yet, too chitzy to spring for a proper keyboard stand. (I really am a jerk when it comes to this guy, aren’t I.)
ROD = Not sure any of the band looks exactly contemporary with the big guy up front. They all look tip-top, though. Xopher himself would have been around 50 when this was shot and, as they would have said at one time, he cuts a prosperous figure. From this appearance and contemporary photos, he either fails to adequately protect his fair skin from the sun or is working on some righteous gin blossoms. In general, he looks like most overweight 50-year-olds I know who live the high life with too much money. I’m just so proud of myself for getting through a thousand words about the guy and not once typing “porcine.”
Legendary rating = What I said about Styx, only more so. Chris Cross is the poster boy for wretched 80s schlock culture. Sure, he’s legendary. So is Lakehurst, New Jersey.
Next, and finally, a triple “dose” of Mickey . . .
