About Roger Moore
Roger Moore is a writer and musical obsessive who plays percussion instruments from around the world with an equal lack of dexterity. An environmental lawyer in his unplugged moments, he has written on subjects ranging from sustainable development practices to human rights and voting rights, as well as many music reviews. A native Chicagoan, Roger lives in Oakland, California with his wife Paula, who shares his Paul Weller fixation, and two young children, Amelia and Matthew, who enjoy dancing in circles to his Serge Gainsbourg records and falling asleep to his John Coltrane records.
Roger Moore’s Musical Timeline
1966. Dropped upside down on patio after oldest sister listened to “She Loves You†on the Beatles’ Saturday cartoon show. Ears have rung with the words “yeah, yeah, yeah†ever since.
1973. Memorized all 932 verses to Don McLean’s “American Pie.â€
1975. Unsuccessfully lobbied to have “Louie Louie†named the official song of his grade school class. The teacher altered the lyrics of the winner, the Carpenters’ “I Won’t Last a Day Without You,†so that they referred to Jesus.
1977. After a trip to New Orleans, frequently broke drumheads attempting to mimic the style of the Meters’ Zigaboo Modeliste.
1979. In order to see Muddy Waters perform in Chicago, borrowed the birth certificate of a 27 year-old truck driver named Rocco.
1982. Published first music review, a glowing account of the Jam’s three-encore performance for the Chicago Reader. Reading the original, unedited piece would have taken longer than the concert itself.
1982. Spat on just before seeing the Who on the first of their 23 farewell tours, after giving applause to the previous band, the Clash.
1984. Mom: “This sounds perky. What’s it called?†Roger: “ It’s ‘That’s When I Reach for My Revolver’ by Mission of Burma.â€
1985. Wrote first review of an African recording, King Sunny Ade’s Synchro System. A reader induced to buy the album by this review wrote a letter to the editor, noting that “anyone wishing a copy of this record, played only once†should contact him.
1985. At a Replacements show in Boston, helped redirect a bewildered Bob Stinson to the stage, which Bob had temporarily confused with the ladies’ bathroom.
1986. Walked forty blocks through a near-hurricane wearing a garbage bag because the Feelies were playing a show at Washington, D.C.’s 9:30 Club.
1987. Foolishly asked Alex Chilton why he had just performed “Volare.†Answer: “Because I can.â€
1988. Moved to Northern California and, at a large outdoor reggae festival, discovered what Bob Marley songs sound like when sung by naked hippies.
1991. Attempted to explain to Flavor-Flav of Public Enemy that the clock hanging from his neck was at least two hours fast.
1992. Under the pseudonym Dr. Smudge, produced and performed for the Underwear of the Gods anthology, recorded live at the North Oakland Rest Home for the Bewildered. Local earplug sales skyrocketed.
1993. Attended first-ever fashion show in Chicago because Liz Phair was the opening act. Declined the complimentary bottles of cologne and moisturizer.
1997. Almost missed appointment with eventual wedding band because Sleater-Kinney performed earlier at Berkeley’s 924 Gilman Street. Recovered hearing days later.
1997. After sharing a romantic evening with Paula listening to Caetano Veloso at San Francisco’s Masonic Auditorium, purchased a Portuguese phrasebook that remains unread.
1998. Learned why you do not yell “Free Bird†at Whiskeytown's Ryan Adams in a crowded theater.
1999. During an intense bout of flu, made guttural noises bearing an uncanny resemblance to the Throat Singers of Tuva.
2000. Compiled a retrospective of music in the nineties as a fellow at the Coolwater Center for Strategic Studies and Barbecue Hut.
2001. Listened as Kahil El’Zabar, in the middle of a harrowing and funny duet show with Billy Bang, lowered his voice and spoke of the need to think of the children, whom he was concerned might grow up “unhip.â€
2002. During a performance of Wilco’s “Ashes of American Flags,†barely dodged ashes of Jeff Tweedy’s cigarette.
2002. Arrived at the Alta Bates maternity ward in Berkeley with a world trance anthology specially designed to soothe Paula during Amelia’s birth, filled with Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan, Ali Akbar Khan, and assorted other Khans. The project proved to be irrelevant to the actual process of labor.
2003. Emceed a memorable memorial concert for our friend Matthew Sperry at San Francisco’s Victoria Theater featuring a lineup of his former collaborators, including improvised music all-stars Orchesperry, Pauline Oliveros, Red Hot Tchotchkes, the cast of Hedwig and the Angry Inch, and Tom Waits.
2003. Failed to persuade Ted Leo to seek the Democratic nomination for President.
2005. Prevented two-year old daughter Amelia from diving off the balcony during a performance of Pierre Dorge’s New Jungle Orchestra at the Copenhagen Jazz Festival.
2006. On a family camping trip in the Sierra Nevadas, experienced the advanced stage of psychosis that comes from listening to the thirtieth rendition of Raffi’s “Bananaphone†on the same road trip.
View all posts by Roger Moore →
Sadly, Don Aicardi’s comment about my previous Dylan-does-Dr. Seuss post is true: Dylan Hears a Who is no more, and you can blame the Doctor’s handlers. The message at dylanhearsawho.com notes: “At the request of Dr. Seuss Enterprises, LP, this site has been retired.” That brings this episode a bit of resemblance to that of Bruce Springstone, the 1982 moniker of Baltimore journalist and cartoonist Tom Chalkley, who completely nailed that wheezy working-class Jersey drone. To his credit, Springsteen got the joke and just sent a postcard to Chalkley saying “Heard your record. Cute.” But Hanna-Barbera got hot and bothered, filing a cease-and-desist order that terminated production after 35,000 copies of the record (including mine). Hanna-Barbera’s nastiness was perhaps predictable, because one of the record’s highlights was the cartoon cover art of drummer John Ebersberger featuring Dino the dinosaur in the Clarence Clemmons role (any resemblance of Clarence Clemmons’ sax riffs to those of an actual dinosaur was, I’m sure, just coincidental). For a novelty record, the music holds up as well; truth be told, I’ve probably played my vinyl copy of the “Bedrock Rap/ Meet the Flinstones” medley more often than “Born to Run” itself over the last quarter-century.
On a related note, the miracle of YouTube has brought back Little Roger and the Goosebumps’ proto-mashup of “Stairway to Heaven” and the Gilligan’s Island theme song, which caused quite a ruckus among self-righteous stoners back in 1978. For what it’s worth, Robert Plant eventually met Little Roger, claiming that he always liked the parody and that Jimmy Page was the humorless bore who successfully prevailed on Led Zeppelin’s legal team to get the record banned. That must have been a very busy legal team–during the same period, for example, the Zeppelin boys threw a couch out of the 11th floor window of Chicago’s Ambassador East hotel, apparently hoping that Joe Walsh’s accountants would pay for it all.