Frank Gutch Jr: Lady Gaga? Really? How About the Real Women in Music?

My yardstick for music is a simple one.  If everyone likes it, it can’t be worth a shit.  Think Hitler as a rock star.  He, too, had a following, though few would own up to being part of it after the finale.  What is it that makes everyone so enamored with this musician as opposed to this other musician who is playing practically the same thing?  Hell if I know.  How does one become a hit overnight?  Hell if I know.  Why are people attracted to certain artists, en masse?  You guessed it.  Hell if I know.  But I can goddamn guarantee you that while you are talking about the Lady Gaga halftime show, and my guess is that most of you talking about music are, you’re missing a few thousand musicians worth hearing, some of them playing music way outside the formulaic box the Gaga has built for herself.  Taylor Swift?  I love some of her songs but there are songs as good as that out there if you take the time to listen.

Frank Gutch Jr: I Always Wanted To Be a Musician (Videos With Commentary)…

 

…but I could never pull it together.  Of course, when I was young I thought I was a musician, piddling with the tonette in fourth grade, drafted into the junior high band in the fifth grade because they badly needed a bass drum player, playing drums in what could be called a jazz band then (though we were really not good enough to be called that), playing drums in the high school band and in a couple of rock bands and carrying it on through college.  I loved music and was always around it but I was never really a musician.

Frank Gutch Jr: Confessions of a (Reformed) Vinyl Junkie, Plus Notes…..

I used to have over 10,000 record albums.  That is really not that many when you really look at it.  More than you could listen to fairly in a year, I suppose.  Deep enough to impress vinyl junkies, too many to impress anyone sane.  Way more than enough to make my life desolate when it came to relationships.

Frank Gutch Jr: They Come From Edmonton— Science Fiction of the Most Musical Variety… Plus Notes

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.

Frank Gutch Jr: The Best of Notes (and new notes too)…..

I wrote half a column about my father before I realized it was way too personal to put out in the Net, so I’ve decided to glean what I consider the best Notes I have posted over the past few years.  Notes, for those new to my process, are the small items I usually place at the end of each column, usually the more newsy or just musical items.  Lots of videos, a bit of news and a lot of fun to put together.

Frank Gutch Jr: Help! I’ve Fallen and I Can’t Reach My Turntable! featuring Jubal Lee Young, Anna Maria Rosales, Caitlin Canty and a Cast Of Thousands! oh, and notes too…..

Indiana Jones has nothing on me.  That big rolling ball chasing him?  That’s nothing compared to the mountain of carnivorous beasts chasing me in my dreams every night, each vying for that elusive review I promised what seems months ago.  It is the music reviewers equivalent to no pants in the schoolroom, the albums fighting one another to get to me, to rip flesh from bone, to make me pay for what they see as vinyl manslaughter— vinylslaughter, if you will— an offense so terrible as to consign innocent artists and albums to a certain death, so vile as to blast dreams to smithereens, so ghastly as to be— well— ghastly.

Frank Gutch Jr: O Canada: A Nod to The Great White North— (and more of them goddamn notes)

 I am a lost Son of Canada.  I must be.  I love Canadian bacon, though bacon it not really be (except maybe technically).  I love Jennifer Dale, an actor who deserved much more than she has been afforded,  respect-wise (I reveled in her work on Canadian TV and film during Comcast’s all-too-short span of including CTV and CBC on their cable lineups in the ’80s).  I love Due South, one of the most creative and funny-on-so-many-levels series TV has ever created (the transition of Ray to Ray— David Marciano to Callum Keith Rennie— a work of pure writing craftmanship).

Frank Gutch Jr: Don’t Look Now, Musicians, But You’re Being Usufructed; New Albums From Jubal Lee Young, Mad Anthony, and Fisher; and Scattered Thoughts and Mindfarts (plus Notes)

1.   1. Usufructed, and it ain’t fun.  Before you ever wrote or even heard that first note of that first song, the cards were already stacked against you.  Record labels, publishing companies and every other segment of what would build into the corporate structure which is the music industry have plotted against you from the start.  Of course, it was done legally.  God forbid that Universal or BMI take anything from you as regards what finally was termed your “intellectual property”.  God forbid that they treat the worker bees creating that which they would build into a multi-billion dollar industry like so much chattel.   I mean, after all, corporations are people, right?  And we know what people do to each other on a constant basis.

Frank Gutch Jr: Perspectives… Music— Does the Past Control Our Future? Music Snobbery. Lyricists, Take Note. Nightmare @ 20,000 Watts. And Information You Can Eat For Breakfast (Meaning, Notes…..).

Here I go on one of my cerebral journeys, most of which run into a brick wall and consign themselves to the ash heap.  I, like most of the world, have a very short attention span, it seems, and while I have bursts of genius (I swear!) little of it makes it to the outside world.  This time, the message(s) is(are) spurred by a link posted by friend Greg Phipps, with whom I worked at Peaches Records in Seattle in the 80s (Phipps, btw, records under the name Palestinian Israel-Jones, should you desire to visit his planet), who has been on a roll finding and posting or reposting questions and videos worth my, if not your, attention.  For instance, a couple of weeks ago, he asked about the negativity toward celebrities “selling out,” whoring their wares for profit.

Frank Gutch Jr: No Small Children Smoke Portland Oregon’s Slabtown; Johnny Mabbott and The Doors Tribute— Slapdown at the High School; Highlight Bomb— Well Hidden, But Why? plus Notes…..

After last night’s No Small Children gig, drummer Nicola B made a statement I have been waiting to hear for the past couple of decades.  Remarking about the previous night’s show in Seattle at The Central Tavern, she said that they had “turned the room.”.  Basically, it means that while, at first, no one paid much attention, by the last song, everyone was on board.  Even dancing, she said (quite enthusiastically, I might add).