They came to be called Mixtapes (or Mix Tapes) and were/are looked upon with scorn but they started out a way to share music without having to drag people to your house and forcing them to drink while you played records. They were an outlet for frustrated disc jockeys and vinyl junkies because even though an unusually high percentage of tapes passed from hand to hand were never played, a person had poured over an entire music collection to put together “sets,” a DJ term regarding playing certain songs in a certain sequence. I know. I made them and passed them out like candy. I am sure most who received them rolled their eyes and exited at first chance, but for me it was about the music. For vinyl junkies, it is always about the music.
There’s Brian and his Beach Boys, most obviously. Then there were Crosby, Stills, Nash and sometimes Young, those Eagles, and my own personal favorite Turtles, Byrds, Mothers of Invention and possibly even Runaways. Not to mention Lindsey Buckingham’s Big Mac.
When we first sold our house, worrying about finding a space that would be safe, affordable, and have amenities nearby didn’t seem like such a big deal. Really, we reasoned, how hard could it be? I, for one, thought that our biggest problem would be agreeing on location.
Frank Gutch Jr: A Journey and the Soundtrack to my Life; Angharad Drake’s New Album; The Big Bright In the Studio; Plus Notes…Posted in Opinion, Review with tags Alternate Root Magazine, Angharad Drake, Beth Ditto, Beth Garner, Blue Sky Boys, David Gogo, DBAWIS, Don & The Goodtimes, Don't Believe a Word I Say, fotheringay, Frank Gutch Jr., House of Records, Indie Artists, Indie Music, Jesse Ed Davis, John K. Samson, Journey, Larry Coryell, Leonard Bernstein, Mario Lanza, music, music videos, radio, Records, Red Foley, Road Runners, Rock & Roll Hall of Fame, Sandy Denny, segarini, Six Fat Dutchmen, Sweet Home Oregon, T. Texas Tyler, The Big Bright, The Live Five, The Moguls, The Record Company, Victory At Sea, Wes Swing on April 19, 2017 by segarini
And I don’t mean the band Journey recently inducted into the supposed Rock & Roll Hall of Fame. God knows what those clowns think when they make their choices but when I look at the possible choices they could have made besides those guys… well, I won’t go there. Let me just say that I understand when people are upset when I make such statements because they have a soundtrack to their lives as well, but this isn’t their column, is it? I look at it this way— Journey had hits, yes, and made CBS one hell of a lot of money, but they didn’t have an original bone in all of their collective bodies and you will never change my mind. Hall of Fame? Not even close. Not while the hundreds more deserving are locked out. Change that to thousands.
Editor’s Note: An annual event for boys and girls who believe in rabbits laying eggs, Spiral Cut Ham, and dressing up for a parade. Originally posted in 2015 but with some minor changes, expect this column to run every year on Good (why is it good…everything is closed) Friday. Yay Jesus! …and pass the mashed potatoes.
It’s that time of year again.
Get out your traditional Chocolate Bunny Shot Glass and bottle of Easter Tequila, put on your Wooden Cross brand Easter Bunny Onesie, put the dog out, and lock the kids in the basement.
It’s time to get your Jesus on….
I’ve started a “reminder” page and called it “column ideas”. Not sure what the point was since I never follow it. There’s always something else that catches my eye….or ear. Lately I’ve had the attention span of a gnat. In fact…..no, never mind. It’s been a busy seven days, just not sure what the hell I’ve accomplished short of pissing off CRA and a couple of telemarketers, oh, and changing passwords on damn near everything….one of my lesser brilliant moves. Now I can’t remember how to log into anything. So, jotting down reminders (and new passwords) on scraps of paper. High security, that’s me!
Frank Gutch Jr: Musicians on a Mission: Dan Phelps, Julian Taylor, Wes Swing, and Jimmy Lee (formerly Lee’s Company)… Plus a lugubrious panorama of NotesPosted in Opinion, Review with tags ...and the heart, Amy van Keeken, Bill Baird, Bill Pillmore, Colleen Brown, Crushed Out, Curtis Mayflower, Dan Phelps, danny schmidt, DBAWIS, Devon Sproule, Diet Cig, Don't Believe a Word I Say, Elephant Revival, Frank Gutch Jr., Indie Artists, Indie Music, jess Pillmore, Jimmy Lee, Julian Taylor, Kelly MacGregor, Lila Blue, Lisbee Stainton, Matt Chamberlain, Modular, music, music videos, radio, Records, Reveal, segarini, Sweet Home Oregon, The Secret Sisters, Thee Holy Brothers, Through a Fogged Glass, Tift Merritt, Viktor Krauss, Wes Swing, White Mansions, Zmei3 on April 11, 2017 by segarini
Meet Dan Phelps, if you have not already done so. I first ran across him over a decade ago when he was working with both Bill Pillmore and his daughter Jess Pillmore on their respective albums, Look In Look Out and Reveal. Bill was an original member of Cowboy and I had heard through Scott Boyer, another original member of that venerable band, that he was recording for the first time, to my knowledge, since Cowboy‘s excellent 1971 release, 5’ll Getcha Ten. When I contacted him, he was in full recording mode, working with Phelps, whom he had chosen to produce. To my amazement, Phelps did more than just produce. He was a sideman and a damn good one, a creator of good licks and solid musical ideas. It was a first look at a musician I would follow from that point on.