Students Need OK On Waterbeds

The Harvard administration has developed a registration procedure for the growing number of students who claim that sleeping peacefully on a waterbed is preferable to tossing and turning on an old-fashioned mattress.

The office of Richard G. Leahy, assistant dean of Resources and Planning, instituted a registration process early this year to cope with the growing popularity of waterbeds at Harvard.

Francis A. Lawton, assistant to Dean Leahy said yesterday that students who want waterbeds speak to the superintendent or janitor of his building. At that time, the janitor 11/11/1971 News 2 Beck is Back Rock Stars Henry W. McGee, III

I.

Jeff Beck first came to public attention in 1965 when he replaced Eric Clapton in the Yardbirds. A bold innovator from the beginning, Beck struck down the barriers of traditional blues that Clapton had built around the group, and almost single-handedly raised the Yardbirds to the status of the avant-garde group of the sixties. He was the first English blues guitarist to make extensive use of the wah-wah pedal and the fuzz box (electronic devices for manipulating the sound of a guitar). Beck's first album with the Yardbirds, A Rave Up, contained three rock classics: "I'm A Man," "You're A Better Man Than I," and "The Train Kept A-Rollin."

Beck's most influential work, though, came in 1966 when he recorded his second and last album with Yardbirds, Over, Under, Sideways, Down. That album was the single most important influence on the rock scene, both in England and America, from early 1966 to late 1967 when the Beatles released Sergeant Pepper's. The "San Francisco Sound" and the "heavy" English sound are all derivative of Beck's work on Over, Under, Sideways, Down. His emphasis on solid chord progression and his use of electronic distortion gave his music the sledge hammer quality we associate with Jimi Hendrix and Grace Slick. It was during this period that Beck was doing his most famous work: "Shapes of Things," "Hot House of Omagarashid," and "Jeff's Boogie."

The world of rock was changing very fast in 1967, and Beck sensed it. Albums were now conceived as artistic statements, and there was a corresponding emphasis on meticulous studio work. The Yardbirds were no longer breaking new ground. Beck decided to leave the group, and let the new rhythm guitarist, Jimmy Page, become the leader.

But it wasn't Beck's idea to remain idle. He wanted to start a new group, a group he could call his own. In 1968 the new Jeff Beck Group released its album simply entitled Truth. Till this day, Truth stands as the epitome of the hard rock album. Featuring Rod Steward (Beck's personal discovery) on vocals, Truth influenced just about every hard rock album that followed it, including Led Zeppelin I. A combination of classic blues ("I Ain't Superstitious" and "You Shook Me") given a new breath of life, and innovative rock ("Shapes of Things" and "Beck's Bolero"), Truth was Beck at his best.

Later in 1968, Truth was followed up with Beck-Ola, a collection of re-worked rock and roll songs. Although the album did have its bright moments (most notably two old Elvis Presley songs, "Jailhouse Rock" and "All Shook Up"), it was largely a musical and commercial failure.

Disillusioned by the success of imitators like Led Zeppelin and Cream when they themselves could not achieve commercial success, the Jeff Beck Group dissolved. Lead singer Rod Stewart and bassist Ron Wood joined the Small Faces where they both became rich and famous, and pianist Nicky Hopkins took to hanging around the Rolling Stones, eventually joining the Quicksilver Messenger Service. Beck was invited to join the Vanilla Fudge but he never had a chance to accept the invitation. Early in 1969 he was involved in an auto accident that was to keep him inactive for almost three years.

II

Thus there was a surge of excitement when Beck's new album, Rough and Ready, was released this month. The commotion, alas, is a bit unwarranted.

Not that the album isn't good. The problem is that it isn't great. The musicians are good. They are tight and sensitive to Beck's playing. And Beck is in top form. But the album is missing something...guts.

The album has no life to it; the sound is too clean, too manufactured. Rough and Ready appears to be one case where potentially good music was ruined in the recording studio. To begin with, this is the first album that Beck has produced himself, and, unlike Jimmy Page, Beck is unable to use this opportunity to his benefit. This is also the first album on which Beck has authored all the songs. He is best known for his interpretation of other musicians' songs. For example, Beck wrote none of the songs on Truth.

"Got the Feeling" is the first song on the album, and represents Beck's writing at its best. It's a strong driving number, arranged in such a way that all of the instruments can be distinctly heard. Beck's guitar work, as always, is superb. Punctuating here, leading there, always coaxing and teasing until it rushes on in a burst of energy. "Situation" and "Short Business" are also on Side One. They are both fast-paced songs, but noteworthy only for Beck's guitar work.

"Raynes Park Blues", the last cut on Side One, gives us a look at the quieter side of Jeff Beck. The song is based on a haunting melody played on an electric piano. Beck's guitar carefully and methodically weaves in and out, creating an eerie tapestry of sound.

The old Jeff Beck seems to return on Side Two, with songs like "I've Been Used," "New Ways," and "Train, Train." All of them are solid, rocking numbers, with the members of Beck's new band--Bob Tench, vocals; Cozy Powell, drums; Max Middleton, piano; and Clive Chaman, bass--in fine form.

What happens to a musician after an accident? Dylan became more serene and reflective. Beck too has changed; maybe only slightly, but he's changed. Perhaps he doesn't want to be labeled as a fossil, a throwback to the late '60's. Whatever the reason, his music appears to be smoother and more refined. At least when he's in the studio.

III

If there's one thing though, that separates a real heavy from just another freak musician, it's the live performance, the concert. It's an event of an almost political nature--the stage becomes the performer's soapbox and he must sway the crowd using both his presence and his musical message. Thus, last Monday night at the Music Hall, the 'audience anticipated the arrival of Beck as if he were a retired politician returning to the political arena.

It was a powerful message that Beck chose for his opening number: "I'm Going Down", an old Freddie King song done in a way that would shake the whole Mississippi delta. Beck made his guitar growl and groan, stomp and shake. Flailing his guitar more than Pete Townsend, and moving about almost as much as Mick Jagger, Beck mesmerized the audience.

Surprise followed surprise, as Beck quickly plunged the group into a bluesey version of Dylan's "Tonight I'll Be Staying Here With You." When Beck went into a slide guitar solo that proved that Mick Taylor still has a lot to learn, the audience threatened to mob the stage. Beck sensed the crowd's enthusiasm and fanned the flames as he went into his classic version of "Morning Dew." As vocalist Bob Tench is no Rod Stewart, the song was lacking something.

From "Morning Dew" Beck went immediately into "Jeff's Boogie." The audience rose to its feet and stayed there for the rest of the song. Beck was out to prove that he hadn't lost anything, that he was still the king. "Jeff's Boogie," a fairly complex number that demands the cramming of an almost infinite number of notes into the breaks, was an excellent showcase for Beck's speed and musical ideas.

The real surprise of the evening, though, was Beck's new version of "I Ain't Superstitious." When Beck first did the song on Truth it was performed in a rough, raunchy fashion with plenty of wah-wah pedal added for effect. In the new version, however, the song is performed as a slow blues number. Cozy Powell, the drummer, was good all night, and was brilliant during this number; Max Middleton, the pianist, showed himself to be every bit as good as Nicky Hopkins. Bob Tench, who was troubled by microphone distortion throughout the evening, also seemed to settle down and evoke a great deal of emotion from his voice.

But the serenity was not to last. "Got the Feeling," a fast-paced Beck original followed and had the audience dancing and clapping in the aisles. Beck was running about on stage, banging his guitar one minute, playing it between his legs on the next. The audience was whipped into a frenzy, and then suddenly it was over. Beck thanked everyone and left.

The audience clapped and stomped for over five minutes, demanding that Beck return. When he finally came back on stage for an encore, he said only "we're going to rock this place," and true to his promise, he launched back into "Got the Feeling," sending the crowd into pandemonium.

Well, Beck's back. His new album, while though not the best he's done, shows that he is still the English guitarist. With Led Zeppelin breaking up, Eric Clapton playing as a studio musician somewhere in London, and many other former competitors dead from heroin overdose, Beck should gain the commercial success he has long deserved. Remember, Jeff Beck discovered Rod Stewart; not the other way around.

I.

Jeff Beck first came to public attention in 1965 when he replaced Eric Clapton in the Yardbirds. A bold innovator from the beginning, Beck struck down the barriers of traditional blues that Clapton had built around the group, and almost single-handedly raised the Yardbirds to the status of the avant-garde group of the sixties. He was the first English blues guitarist to make extensive use of the wah-wah pedal and the fuzz box (electronic devices for manipulating the sound of a guitar). Beck's first album with the Yardbirds, A Rave Up, contained three rock classics: "I'm A Man," "You're A Better Man Than I," and "The Train Kept A-Rollin."

Beck's most influential work, though, came in 1966 when he recorded his second and last album with Yardbirds, Over, Under, Sideways, Down. That album was the single most important influence on the rock scene, both in England and America, from early 1966 to late 1967 when the Beatles released Sergeant Pepper's. The "San Francisco Sound" and the "heavy" English sound are all derivative of Beck's work on Over, Under, Sideways, Down. His emphasis on solid chord progression and his use of electronic distortion gave his music the sledge hammer quality we associate with Jimi Hendrix and Grace Slick. It was during this period that Beck was doing his most famous work: "Shapes of Things," "Hot House of Omagarashid," and "Jeff's Boogie."

The world of rock was changing very fast in 1967, and Beck sensed it. Albums were now conceived as artistic statements, and there was a corresponding emphasis on meticulous studio work. The Yardbirds were no longer breaking new ground. Beck decided to leave the group, and let the new rhythm guitarist, Jimmy Page, become the leader.

But it wasn't Beck's idea to remain idle. He wanted to start a new group, a group he could call his own. In 1968 the new Jeff Beck Group released its album simply entitled Truth. Till this day, Truth stands as the epitome of the hard rock album. Featuring Rod Steward (Beck's personal discovery) on vocals, Truth influenced just about every hard rock album that followed it, including Led Zeppelin I. A combination of classic blues ("I Ain't Superstitious" and "You Shook Me") given a new breath of life, and innovative rock ("Shapes of Things" and "Beck's Bolero"), Truth was Beck at his best.

Later in 1968, Truth was followed up with Beck-Ola, a collection of re-worked rock and roll songs. Although the album did have its bright moments (most notably two old Elvis Presley songs, "Jailhouse Rock" and "All Shook Up"), it was largely a musical and commercial failure.

Disillusioned by the success of imitators like Led Zeppelin and Cream when they themselves could not achieve commercial success, the Jeff Beck Group dissolved. Lead singer Rod Stewart and bassist Ron Wood joined the Small Faces where they both became rich and famous, and pianist Nicky Hopkins took to hanging around the Rolling Stones, eventually joining the Quicksilver Messenger Service. Beck was invited to join the Vanilla Fudge but he never had a chance to accept the invitation. Early in 1969 he was involved in an auto accident that was to keep him inactive for almost three years.

II

Thus there was a surge of excitement when Beck's new album, Rough and Ready, was released this month. The commotion, alas, is a bit unwarranted.

Not that the album isn't good. The problem is that it isn't great. The musicians are good. They are tight and sensitive to Beck's playing. And Beck is in top form. But the album is missing something...guts.

The album has no life to it; the sound is too clean, too manufactured. Rough and Ready appears to be one case where potentially good music was ruined in the recording studio. To begin with, this is the first album that Beck has produced himself, and, unlike Jimmy Page, Beck is unable to use this opportunity to his benefit. This is also the first album on which Beck has authored all the songs. He is best known for his interpretation of other musicians' songs. For example, Beck wrote none of the songs on Truth.

"Got the Feeling" is the first song on the album, and represents Beck's writing at its best. It's a strong driving number, arranged in such a way that all of the instruments can be distinctly heard. Beck's guitar work, as always, is superb. Punctuating here, leading there, always coaxing and teasing until it rushes on in a burst of energy. "Situation" and "Short Business" are also on Side One. They are both fast-paced songs, but noteworthy only for Beck's guitar work.

"Raynes Park Blues", the last cut on Side One, gives us a look at the quieter side of Jeff Beck. The song is based on a haunting melody played on an electric piano. Beck's guitar carefully and methodically weaves in and out, creating an eerie tapestry of sound.

The old Jeff Beck seems to return on Side Two, with songs like "I've Been Used," "New Ways," and "Train, Train." All of them are solid, rocking numbers, with the members of Beck's new band--Bob Tench, vocals; Cozy Powell, drums; Max Middleton, piano; and Clive Chaman, bass--in fine form.

What happens to a musician after an accident? Dylan became more serene and reflective. Beck too has changed; maybe only slightly, but he's changed. Perhaps he doesn't want to be labeled as a fossil, a throwback to the late '60's. Whatever the reason, his music appears to be smoother and more refined. At least when he's in the studio.

III

If there's one thing though, that separates a real heavy from just another freak musician, it's the live performance, the concert. It's an event of an almost political nature--the stage becomes the performer's soapbox and he must sway the crowd using both his presence and his musical message. Thus, last Monday night at the Music Hall, the 'audience anticipated the arrival of Beck as if he were a retired politician returning to the political arena.

It was a powerful message that Beck chose for his opening number: "I'm Going Down", an old Freddie King song done in a way that would shake the whole Mississippi delta. Beck made his guitar growl and groan, stomp and shake. Flailing his guitar more than Pete Townsend, and moving about almost as much as Mick Jagger, Beck mesmerized the audience.

Surprise followed surprise, as Beck quickly plunged the group into a bluesey version of Dylan's "Tonight I'll Be Staying Here With You." When Beck went into a slide guitar solo that proved that Mick Taylor still has a lot to learn, the audience threatened to mob the stage. Beck sensed the crowd's enthusiasm and fanned the flames as he went into his classic version of "Morning Dew." As vocalist Bob Tench is no Rod Stewart, the song was lacking something.

From "Morning Dew" Beck went immediately into "Jeff's Boogie." The audience rose to its feet and stayed there for the rest of the song. Beck was out to prove that he hadn't lost anything, that he was still the king. "Jeff's Boogie," a fairly complex number that demands the cramming of an almost infinite number of notes into the breaks, was an excellent showcase for Beck's speed and musical ideas.

The real surprise of the evening, though, was Beck's new version of "I Ain't Superstitious." When Beck first did the song on Truth it was performed in a rough, raunchy fashion with plenty of wah-wah pedal added for effect. In the new version, however, the song is performed as a slow blues number. Cozy Powell, the drummer, was good all night, and was brilliant during this number; Max Middleton, the pianist, showed himself to be every bit as good as Nicky Hopkins. Bob Tench, who was troubled by microphone distortion throughout the evening, also seemed to settle down and evoke a great deal of emotion from his voice.

But the serenity was not to last. "Got the Feeling," a fast-paced Beck original followed and had the audience dancing and clapping in the aisles. Beck was running about on stage, banging his guitar one minute, playing it between his legs on the next. The audience was whipped into a frenzy, and then suddenly it was over. Beck thanked everyone and left.

The audience clapped and stomped for over five minutes, demanding that Beck return. When he finally came back on stage for an encore, he said only "we're going to rock this place," and true to his promise, he launched back into "Got the Feeling," sending the crowd into pandemonium.

Well, Beck's back. His new album, while though not the best he's done, shows that he is still the English guitarist. With Led Zeppelin breaking up, Eric Clapton playing as a studio musician somewhere in London, and many other former competitors dead from heroin overdose, Beck should gain the commercial success he has long deserved. Remember, Jeff Beck discovered Rod Stewart; not the other way around.