It’s been nearly four months, and still, several times a day, it feels like a rat is trying to gnaw it’s way out of my belly. I’m still craving the instant hit of nicotine that was my constant companion for nearly 50 years.
Frank Gutch Jr: In Anticipation of Moon Palace; The Space Opera Trilogy; and Notes and Nothing But the Notes…..Posted in Opinion, Review with tags Alialujah Choir, Brandy Zdan, Brett Wilson, Child, David Bullock, DBAWIS, Debacle Records, Devon Sproule, Don't Believe a Word I Say, Elkhorn, Fort Worth, Frank Gutch Jr., Indie Artists, Indie Music, Music Radio, music videos, No Vacation, Phil White, radio, Records, Safe at Home, Scott Fraser, segarini, Space Opera, Susanna Rose, Sweet Home Oregon, The Widowmakers, Tim Browning, Zombie vs. Shark on March 22, 2017 by segarini
The stars have finally aligned, sports fans! You can delete my queries about Carrie Biell because I have found her after a ten year search. I should say that my buddy at KEXP radio, Tom Smith, found her. Well, maybe a friend of Tom’s. Or a friend of Tom’s friend. Ach! It doesn’t matter. The important thing that she is found. The other important thing is that she is writing again and has already jumped back into the deep end of the musical pool.
I was originally going to call this column “The Father of Teenage America”, but Chuck Berry’s influence on and understanding of that awkward stretch of road between 12 and 20 not only heralded America’s shift from buttoned-down conformity to unbuttoned rebellion, spread far past the borders of his home and native land and spilled out across the globe on the wings of three chords and poetic genius.
Fueled by unbridled energy, and embraced by a post war population of disenfranchised kids with No Particular Place to Go, Chuck Berry’s legacy continues unabated 50 years later.
If you didn’t get your chance to get your Irish on on Friday, March 17th, Torontonians will get another chance to do so today, when the annual St Patrick’s Day Parade starts at noon. The route begins on the corner of Bloor and St George, heads east on Bloor, south on Yonge, and west on Queen St, before finishing up at the parade reviewing stand at Nathan Phillips Square.
I woke up this morning (Sunday) thinking about music and the play I attended at The Elgin Theatre on Friday night. SOUSATZKA. In preview mode at the moment before heading to Broadway, I have every expectation it will be successful if the audience that night was any indicator. The play, based on the Bernice Ruben novel, Madame Sousatzka, evokes and elicits many feelings and mixed emotions. Love, pain, anger, hope, despair, disgust, fear, hate, family….and it is all tied together by music.
Frank Gutch Jr: A Spoon Full of Estrogen Helps the Music Go Down (Easier)— A Glance at The 81s with Luella, Elouise, and Goldie Wilson; Plus Notes…Posted in Opinion with tags Dala, Dam Miraldi, DBAWIS, Deep Water, Don't Believe a Word I Say, Elouise, Frank Gutch Jr., Goldie Wilson, Indie Artists, Indie Music, J.D. Malone, Jenna Fournier, Luella Mathes, music, music videos, nocona, radio, Records, Rose Bergdoll, segarini, Sheila Carabine, Sinking Creek, Sweet Home Oregon, The 81s, Tim Carroll, Tom Siering, Uzelli on March 14, 2017 by segarini
Women. You can’t live with ’em and you can’t live without ’em, so the general attitude seems to be. These days, it’s a topic I would rather not broach, so many ready to take offense at the drop of a hat, but who can blame them? The United States, in my mind one of the most open cultures in the world (until the Orange Shitgibbon came along), never gave them their just due. We said we did, but saying and doing are so far apart anymore. Maybe always was. I was fortunate enough to have grown up in a family which was as close as you could probably get to democratic. Not in the early days, of course, but who would want to put a family at the mercy of a five- or eleven-year old? Still, us kids were included in most decisions— the ones which involved us kids, anyway.
Everyone has one – that opinionated, though largely under informed, relative, friend, or acquaintance, that we dread having a conversation with. Our kinder, gentler side tells us we need to play nice with the crazy person, after all, who else will put up with them? And so, inevitably, an occasion arises where Drunk Uncle is pity invited to join the family to dine, and somehow and inevitably, ends up commanding the room.