But first, some incredibly sad news. Jim Manolides no longer wanders among us. Jim had been a longtime stalwart of Pac Northwest music, having played with James Henry & The Olympics, Dave Lewis, The Frantics, and Jr. Cadillac, among others. In addition to having played music in the Northwest for decades, he was also looked upon as a music historian of repute. I mean, he had been around since almost the beginning.
Nick Holmes is a friend of mine. I have never met him nor have I even talked with him on the phone but he is a friend, nonetheless. He sends me stuff. Anyone who sends me stuff is my friend. Send me some stuff and you’ll find out. It seems like only yesterday (it was over two years ago) that he sent me CD copies of two albums I, up to that time, never even knew existed: And it seems like just yesterday (because it was) that I received his brand spanking new CD, Sonar. There is a story behind Nick and his music and I hesitate to tell that story here because I have told it a few times and hate to repeat myself too much, but if you want to read a fascinating story about his early years in New York and how we became acquainted, follow this link.
But first, a word from our sponsor. Well, not sponsor, exactly. In fact, just the opposite. Well, not exactly opposite. A few weeks ago, you might remember that I posted a few words about Sheldon Gomberg, the man behind Sweet Relief III: Pennies From Heaven, an album recorded for charity (all proceeds will go to Sweet Relief, an organization committed to helping musicians in need), and before that, I devoted a column to that organization through an interview with Sweet Relief‘s Rob Max.
Over forty years in the record business and I’m still agog at the conception of the industry from the outside. People think musicians are rich (or if not rich, well off, because otherwise they would not be able to support themselves, right?). People think stars are talented without demanding that it be proven (I hate to use the guy as an example, but the Bieber’s music will last no longer than the lives of his current fans because, and we all know this, his music is contrived crap).
Whaaa-a-a-at, you say? 2012 ain’t over yet? You’re right. It ain’t. But if the Mayans have it right, it will soon be all over so if you don’t mind the indulgence I’ve decided to do what I do every year— post my list of albums which have floated to the top a month early. I do it for a couple of reasons. One, I hate for my list to get mixed in with the rest of those end-of-the-year lists which swarm late December and early January. The timing is all too predictable and if there is anything I don’t like, it’s predictability (which is why I don’t go gaga every time Keith Richards adds another day to his fossilized remains or Mick Jagger farts).
Here we go again. I had an outline for today’s column all laid out, basically explaining how the major record labels are responsible for their own impending doom (will that column ever be written?), but I tossed it aside for the present. I tossed it because I have been listening to music for the past week and am overwhelmed by the outstanding music out there that people refuse to hear, all the while complaining that “there is no good music out there anymore.” I know I run the risk of having the people who read what I write ignoring my future musings what with my obsession with new music, but I’m beginning to not give a crap.
Bullseye Records of Canada
Segarini: Don't Believe a Word I Say 