Sometimes meeting your heroes can be very disappointing. They could just be having a bad day or had a fight with their significant other or their manager, or recently received bad news about a pet project…or as is sometimes the case, they could just be an asshole.
On the other hand, some heroes exceed your expectations and then some.
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.
While working on this weeks column in which I had hoped to give insights into record labels and how they evolved, I realized that much of the music of the past and my attitudes toward it and the business surrounding it needed to be readdressed.
John Lennon said it best in one of my all time favourite songs of his: “So this is Christmas and what have you done. Another year over, a new one just begun.” I do so wish that Lennon was still here to continue with his amazing talent. But some self-centered asshole with a hand gun and a diseased brain (or a mind-controlled one, for all of you conspiracy buffs) silenced that legendary voice forever 33 years ago.
It’s a T-shirt thing but it says way more than most people will ever know. Sure, the vast majority of you out there are thinking, yeah, The Beatles at Shea, or maybe Woodstock. Maybe Led Zeppelin at The Forum in L.A. I yawn. I suppose they were good and all, but music is an adventure and sitting in the midst of thousands to barely hear music played not nearly as good as the record (not to mention exposing yourself to possible burn damage from those lighters idiots used to hold up in the air at the oddest moments) is hardly my idea of adventure or even a good time.
Bullseye Records of Canada
Segarini: Don't Believe a Word I Say 