Hello everyone. Let’s give a warm welcome to Debbie and Cyndi. Two unique women who dance to their own drummers…..whose talents encompass a variety of musical fields in two decidedly different decades. These ladies can pop and rock, disco down or jazz it up, sing the blues, or pour their soul into a ballad. Their many talents run the full gamut and they have led the way for a new kind of woman in music, adding their own twist and turns to rock and roll.
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I’m In lunch bag let-down mode. Had too much fun in May, what with all the activities and gigs, and June has so far been one of the worst clunkers of the year, weather wise. I even apparently missed the biggest (ooh!) sports news this week when LeBron James accidentally flashed 18.5 million viewers during the NBA Finals.
Hello everyone. Let’s give a warm welcome to Debbie and Cyndi. Two unique women who dance to their own drummers and whose talents encompass a variety of musical fields in two decidedly different decades. These ladies can pop and rock, disco down or jazz it up, sing the blues, or pour their soul into a ballad. Their many talents run the full gamut and they have led the way for a new kind of woman in music, adding their own twist and turns to rock and roll. Quirky, outrageous, individualistic, sexy, ballsy, entertaining, exuberant, clever, brilliant, artistic and really, really smart.
During a recent conversation on writing and music I was asked if I had ever heard of K-Pop. My answer was “no” although I was tempted to say “of course” me being a music junky and all. I’ve been told I don’t get out enough so I’m working on that. In the meantime…
There’s a great time wasting pub game on social media quite popular with my music friends whereby you assemble the ultimate supergroup featuring your favourite musicians past and present.
All the sins blamed on “disco” (such as it was at the end of the 1970s and beginning of the 1980s) — cocaine, amyl nitrate, sexually transmitted disease, The Ritchie Family, Andy Gibb — are nothing compared to the ugliness of “Disco Sucks.” The stigma’s so powerful that even now, nobody would dare call it disco. It was “house” for a while, and these days people call it “EDM,” a clumsy catch-all acronym that stands for “electronic dance music,” although it sounds more like another disco-era sexually transmitted disease. (“I’m sorry, but the only remedy for EDM is a series of painful injections, taking this foul-smelling tincture six times a day and applying this stinky salve to the affected area…”)
Be it in Canada, or while visiting our neighbours to the south, I have always been an east coast type of guy. Give me Halifax over Vancouver, St. John’s over Victoria and, most definitely New York over Los Angeles. In the past I spent a lot of time in both New York and L.A. as back in the good old days these were the two epicentres of the record biz. L.A. can have its charms in the short term, what with the weather and the ocean, but it is strange to be in a town where nobody walks. I walk everywhere and think nothing of a quick jaunt from the Beach in Toronto to downtown. People in New York walk. Manhattan streets are an obstacle course of fast moving people, yellow cabs, constant honking and ever present sirens. There is an energy and attitude in NYC that is sadly lacking in L.A..
Bullseye Records of Canada
Segarini: Don't Believe a Word I Say 