We rewind, once again, to 1978 and 1979 and a trio of record reviews I wrote for the New Music Magazine. It actually makes me feel uncomfortable when I go back and read these reviews as my humour was sophomoric, the writing was weak, and in a lot of instances I really missed what was important, or not important about some of these records. I was young.
The impetus, for what has now become a series, was my discovery of an old vinyl record by Maggie Bell. I came across it going through one of my many purge cycles. Suicide Sal, released in 1975, was my introduction to the blues….I just didn’t know it then. I wasn’t in the habit of labeling types of music in my younger years, I just knew what I liked. Greg Simpson, who happened to be managing the now defunct Records on Wheels in London, Ontario, recommended the album, thinking I might like it. I loved it and still do. Thank you Greg!
Frank Gutch Jr: Jim Colegrove— Chapter Four: The Big Apple; Don’t Be Afraid to Pogo Punk Doc Premieres in L.A.; Fotheringay— All Boxed Up and Nowhere to Go (But Up, Finally); plus Notes…..Posted in Opinion with tags Andy Warhol, Barry Tashian, bill jackson, Chris Ashford, Chris Huston, Claire Holley, DBAWIS, Don't Be Afraid to Pogo, Don't Believe a Word I Say, fotheringay, Frank Gutch Jr., Indie Artists, Indie Music, Jerry Donahue, jim colegrove, Lou Adler, Moondog, music, music videos, N.D. Smart II, Nella Thomas, Nothing More, Records, Sandy Denny, segarini, The Fugs, The Hobbitts, The Undertakers, Tiny Tim, Trevor Lucas on March 24, 2015 by segarini
The last we looked in on Jim Colegrove, he asked the question which consumes every artist, musical and otherwise— …where would the world be without dreamers? The question ended Part Three of his story as being told through this column at which point Colegrove and band were headed to New York to grab that fabled brass ring dangled by the record labels of the time. If you recall, drummer N.D. Smart II who was supposed to be the band’s drummer, opted for a gig with The Remains, who had scored a leg of The Beatles’ tour. But Smart was there when the band arrived after a long car trip.
Every week we seem to be losing more and more of our show business icons. Lesley Gore passed awhile back. She was my first teenage crush. I mentioned that to her the first time I interviewed her. She let me down gently.
Ah – morning. A new day stretches before you like the silliest of putty. You are Captain Invincible – today, you will lose that last ten pounds, quit all of your vices, and possibly cure the common cold. Fresh from sleep, rested, and ready to greet the world, you throw back the duvet, and leap from your warm and fragrant nest, humming a cheery tune. Yes? Or maybe no.
March 9th was an auspicious occasion. It was my sixth month as Verm Blart: Cemetery Cop and it would have been the 99th birthday of my maternal grandmother Marjorie Barker. As hard as it is to believe, these two things are connected. Bear with me and I’ll explain.
I remember the day she showed up on my doorstep.
Swaddled in Styrofoam, and gently cradled in a large cardboard manger, she was delivered by a man all dressed in brown, a small patch on his shirt with the letters ‘UPS’ emblazoned in gold lettering over his heart. He handed me an electronic clipboard and a stylus attached to it by a miniature bungee cord and said, “Sign here.”