Maji's blog: "Musik"

As many may have heard, after news of his dire condition was misconstrued into several announcements  of his passing yesterday, the inevitable did actually happen thereafter and by morning May 16, Ronnie James Dio, had actually passed away from complications resulting from his fight with stomach cancer.

I know how bandwagoning these events can be on the internet, but I do feel compelled as a musician to say a few words, for someone that gave me so so many years of entertainment.

I followed his career all the way back from his gig with Richie Blackmores Rainbow after the Deep Purple split, and subsequently got turned on the Elf LPs aside from that.

By the time I was in high school, Ozzy had left Sabbath, and Dio filled the spot, thereafter launching the Heaven and Hell legacy.

It was here that his presense really took root, and the music and songwriting better exploited his talent in both voice and his zest for theatrics.

It was on this tour where I first got to see him live on stage. I remember being quite taken aback at his projection, this huge voice that emerged from this tiny dwarfish body. And how he was in such command with his stage presense. How he accentuated whatever he was singing with the proper expressiveness, a true theatrical performer as well as a phenominally controlled singer.

This also ties in to what always impressed me the most about his singing. His transition between head voice and chest was miles apart in sound, yet he moved from one to the other so smooth and effortlessly, which is where most singers struggle.

He could produce the sweetest lullaby voice and morph it into the most gutteral snarl accenting his words and cascade off into these soaring long bellowing notes,......notes that could make you feel the whatever expression that was trying to be transposed. And he would accomplish all this, in just a phrase.

His portayals brought jeers from some over the years, as the story that his lyrics often addressed was the ongoing inner and outer struggle between good and evil, often told in a metaphoric and fantasy world setting, but the underlying often hit on real social and political issues in an idealistic way, if you were savvy enuff to see it. Others could only read the surface of things, making the same mistake that many make about musical performers, in not being able to associate them with playing a role. No one ever called Vincent Price a devil worshipper, because they could easily attribute his context as a performance, an act, a role outside the confines of everyday life....musicians arent always granted that same immediate understanding.

His solo career was an explosion of the same, but really took the majikal mystical world aproach to a new level, often reverting to a medieval type theme.

And he always delivered. In fact, he still holds one of the top 3 tours sets that I have seen in my repetiore of a close to a thousand concerts.

His Sacred Heart tour, was touted as the million dollar stage set, complete with an actual full stage length castle, 2 rook towers, a working drawbridge, never before networked laser array, and a 2 story mechanical fire breathing dragon.

My freind Jesse and I arrived 3 hrs early, camped out at the door, and were the third and fourth ticket torn out of 14500 ppl entering sold out Hampton Coliseum. Of course we ran as hard as we could to the baracade dead center stage and hung on til everyone settled down into place.

As a young metal head, I have to say, it was one of the most epic shows ever. Im smirk to myself remembering how boyishly stoked I was.

After the opening show with Rough Cutt, and then the intermission earmarked by the same teltale tape that was always played at Hampton (remember it featured Preist-Out in the Cold, Scorps-Big City Nights, and a slew of others), then..... the lights went down, the deafening hiss of the ecstatic crowd took the air, that electricity that makes your arm hair goosebump....and then this huge crystal ball was lowered from the ceiling, and his holograph appeared within. I cant remember what he spoke as dialogue, but that all tranversed into the epic keyboard intro as the draw bridge on this castle set began to lower, and a supernova of every color laser known burst from its corridor,  the beams broken only by the all too familiar silloheutte of the elfish one.

He slowly made his entrance, and  the cacaphony of arena screams reached its redline peak, to which he put his hands on his hips and smiled and nodded approvingly, and basked in his moment, and shook his head as if to say "damn, these fukers are ripe and ready, this is gonna be fukin great".

Spotlight popped on and Vivian Campbell emerged from nowhere with his axe, already sinking his fingers into the opening bar of Stand Up and Shout, the most suitable of openers.

The wheel of mayhem were rolling, and it was fucking on...

Not one piece of equipment besides instruments was visible anywhere, even the monitors were covered in rock formations to complete the thematics.

I noticed at the edge of the stage and throughout the perimeter in key locations were 6x6" mirrors mounted on gyroscopes, and in the overhead above the lights was a full catwalk with about 6 different technician computer workstations in which the entire pedestal turned to face whichever directions needed, and had a small siren light that they summoned the other techs that they were trying to talk them and answer their headset.

It didnt take long to figure out their purpose as I could see one screen and watched the upcoming laser scene run thru its scheme, then seconds later saw the mirrors turn and align to catch the lasers and reflect them to each other to generate the pattern selected, virtually creating a web of laser beams around the entire stage at times. It was an effort beyond anything I had seen at that time.

Being front center, of course thru the night we shared our eye catching moments where he pointed and ackowledged my enthusiasm as well as others. Again, I was astounded by the projection of his voice, especially being a few feet away and really being able to compare that his tiny stature.

He truly brought the house, or castle if you will, and supported it all the way with every sense of expression to make it truly believable. A real performer, with real pipes.

There were no supporting dancers to distract from an obvious sync track.

It was raw, yet pristine, wicked yet celestial, it was, what a metal show should be in every way for a fan of that time.

I followed his career over the years, even as that type of music faded from the limelight as things turned to the simpler humdrum angst driven seattle sound movement (again operating on a theme) and on to the more angry less melodic themes of present day.

His passing to me, is truly the reflection of an era, and its tremendous impact to those who were not sheltered in with the media handfed pigeons who only knew of low budget production pop artists that were shoved down their throats 5 times a day by MTV. He never needed any of that assitance,  only the realm of those who really listened and felt music, for its every part, and for those that felt and enjoyed the magic....felt it dancing in the air.

His passing will no doubt bring a surge of tributes from recognized industry culminations, all citing their influence and acknowledgement. Which in turn,  will expose another generation to his music as interpreted by his peers & successors. And hopefully his legacy reach beyond that which even he could not, and thru that, he will live on. And thru that, all of us who were so infused in that era, will be renewed as well.

Thank you for the many many years of great memories my friend.  Now you are amongst those of which you have often spoken of, you are the captian at the helm, setting sail across the sea of light. May your journey be as magical as the picture you painted to us all. Rest in Peace Ronnie.