Nazareth and Razamanaz; U2 and The Miracle (of Joey Ramone); Peter Gabriel and Red Rain; Diana Ross and The Supremes and Baby Love; Taiyo Cruz and Dynamite, Tommy James and the Shondells and Mony Mony (one of my all time favourite dance tunes).Then there’s Dirty Loops, Jordan John and Xprime. I dance….slinking, skipping and sashaying through the kitchen into the dining area into the living room. Thank heaven for open concept design!
The first thing David Bullock said to me when I asked about his new EP, In the Waking World, was, and this is paraphrased, “How do I write my bio without emphasizing Space Opera?” I wanted to say hell if I know but the more I thought about it the easier it seemed. Only because I probably know more about that band than maybe a dozen people out there (beyond the crazies who go out of their ways to find out what a musician has for breakfast).
Remember the heyday of The Old Spaghetti Factory? Massive as the place was, there were always lineups, and you’d eagerly await that call of your name … “Smith, party of 4!” “John, party of 3!”
Those who’ve known me a long time – including the pre-curmudgeon me in the days before the intertoobs – can attest to my unapologetic, jingoistic rah-rah All Canadian mantra. I love my country. I love my music. But despite my seemingly anti-‘Merika crusade dating back to Ronnie’s Rocket Regalias in the early 1980s, I do love my American pop music.
I am busier than a long tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs. At my age, that seems next to impossible, but it’s true. I am inundated with projects, chores, assignments, and obligations. Thankful for all the activity, to be sure, but seriously, shouldn’t I be chugging Geritol and sitting in my rocking chair on the porch, working on my Whittling skills?
Instead, I am chugging Jägermeister and sitting at my desk in front of a computer in a pair of boxer shorts and a Nikola Tesla T-shirt.
Somebody fetch me a blanket…my legs are cold.
It’s that time of year again when I fearlessly predict who will be inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. Over the course of the last four years I am sitting at about 65% with my picks. Let’s look at who is on the final ballot for 2105.
Let’s go back to September 25 and a late night visit to Cherry Cola’s Rock ‘n Rolla Cabaret and Lounge. With my sisters in tow, we ducked into the club so I could introduce them to the exquisite Cherish Stevenson, the club’s owner and gracious hostess, and give them a small taste of the nightlife in Toronto. Cherish pulled me aside to let me know Cherie Currie was playing the club and would I be interested in shooting the event. It took me a nanosecond to say yes, I’d love to.