Yesterday I went through all of the private messages I’d shared with Frank Gutch Jr, since I’d first encountered him. It was in 2013, just after I’d begun writing this weekly column, and right from that first message, it was as though we were separated at birth.
In a way. In a very meaningful way, too. It changed the world. More specifically, it changed the United States. I’m convinced. I studied it in college. I have been studying it ever since, though now it is called communications (or do they have some other newfangled name) and includes the Internet and God knows what else. As much as some of my friends think I was there at the beginning, I was not. I was there when it was forced to adapt to the new kid on the block, television, though, and I hung on as long as I could. The idiot box was unfortunately too strong and kicked radio to the curb where it reinvented itself into a provider of music, sports and talk— mostly music. Without the radio, the music business might have been just another part of the entertainment conglomeration, but for awhile, in spite of the attempts to push it into the background, it ruled the roost. There were reasons and it was regional, at first, but it did. More on that later.
Although I don’t know how much more. The wind was taken out of my sails last week when I found out that Steve Young had died. The musician and not the football player— jeez, I have said that so many times over the years but always with a chuckle. Not this time. Steve is really gone and things just don’t feel right.
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Before we dive in to that 800 pound gorilla, Spotify, I want to point out that Toronto has two more chances to catch one of the most impressive bands to live within Canada’s borders. I caught Picture The Ocean‘s set in Portland a week or two ago and I couldn’t have been more impressed. Impressed enough to keep the new album on heavy rotation, listening-wise. Impressed enough to relive many of the outstanding moments of the band that night. Impressed enough to trumpet the band to any and all who will listen. This band is the real deal, my friends, and they are holding down a “residency” (whatever the hell that is) at The Cameron House the next two Tuesdays and will be playing from 6-8 PM. Now, I don’t jump up and down for that many artists and/or bands (okay, I do, but it’s only because the bands I love are bands you need to hear), so take my word for it. If I’m wrong, I’ll give you ten free whacks at the whipping post. I’m telling you, these guys are good! An antidote to the musical blahs. An argument against there being no good music anymore. You can thank me later. And now…
Bullseye Records of Canada
Segarini: Don't Believe a Word I Say 