I have been going to conventions and conferences all of my life. I think the first one I attended was “3 Days in March” back in the late seventies. It was at the then new Harbour Castle Hotel and run by Walt Grealis and Stan Klees from music industry magazine RPM. It slowly morphed into “The Record Conference”, run by David Farrell and his team at The Record (another music industry trade paper), and that conference is now known as Canadian Music Week.
Sunday, October 4 there was a gathering of 27 people in my backyard, on my back deck and in my kitchen (much to Peter Kashur’s chagrin). A belated birthday BBQ for Bob Segarini with some of his DBAWIS writers, and a sort of “welcome home/back” to friend, Greg Simpson, who really doesn’t get “back east” too often after returning to B.C. almost five years ago to live near his family. This gave him the opportunity to get together with people he doesn’t often get to spend time with.
They were Jesse Dee & Jacquie B when I first heard them— two waifs supposedly in the outbacks of the Yukon surviving by hunting and survival skills, living off the land, playing bars for beer. They ate raw meat, sometimes frozen if there was no way to thaw it (there evidently isn’t, on the whole), but skirted moose and squirrel out of respect.
I love Keith. You love Keith. We ALL love Keith Richards. In fact, very personally speaking, if it wasn’t for my first encountering the hallowed words “Chuck” and “Berry” on some extremely early Rolling Stones record, and then seeking out “No Particular Place To Go” in particular, I probably never would have ventured past the second fret up my own childhood guitar.
I have a friend who’s been bit by the love bug. He wasn’t looking. Meeting her was unexpected, … a bolt out of the blue that could not have come as more of a surprise to him.
“It whapped me upside the head,” he told me.
This week came the revelation that digital music streaming services are both ripping off artists AND generating no revenue. Rarely has there been a non-story generating so much sucking and blowing simultaneously.
One of the perks working in the music business is (was) the free clothes. Tee-shirts, hoodies, hats, toques, scarves, you name and some label or artist would find a way to incorporate their logo on it. The big score was always the record label or band tour jacket. In the days of big record company conventions one of the first thing you would do was check your hotel room as more often than not there would be a swag bag waiting for you full of all kinds of treats. Some of these I still possess and others have long disappeared or been given away to friends.