Frank Gutch Jr: Too Good To Miss: Phoebe Bridgers, Kora Feder, Audrey Martells, and Jim Page, with Sidebars on David Bullock (Space Opera) and Jane Gowan (The Real Shade); Plus Another Weekly Dose of Notes

I think Phoebe Bridgers was twelve when I first heard of her.  I had just discovered Kim Grant, then cranking up Grand Ole Echo shows in L.A., and those shows quickly became legendary to me.  She (and a colleague, whose name escapes me at this moment) was booking everything below the radar in L.A. and many of those became inspiration for columns or reviews— Old Californio, I See Hawks in L.A., Pi Jacobs, Little Lonely, and so many more.  Occasionally she would mention Phoebe in her newsletters— mere mention of a young girl threatening to become a serious musician.

Frank Gutch Jr: In Anticipation of Moon Palace; The Space Opera Trilogy; and Notes and Nothing But the Notes…..

The stars have finally aligned, sports fans!  You can delete my queries about Carrie Biell because I have found her after a ten year search.  I should say that my buddy at KEXP radio, Tom Smith, found her.  Well, maybe a friend of Tom’s.  Or a friend of Tom’s friend.  Ach!  It doesn’t matter.  The important thing that she is found.  The other important thing is that she is writing again and has already jumped back into the deep end of the musical pool.

Frank Gutch Jr: T Bone. Got it? He’s from T exas… Glenn Patscha To Release Ten Year Old Album Because It’s a Killer!…plus Notes

But before we get started, it’s time once again to plug one of my favorite bands of all-time— those crazy elementary school teachers who change into demonic rockers at night:  No Small Children.  Coming off of a successful run playing the title tune from the movie Ghostbusters II, they pluck another rocker out of the air and it’s a beaut!  Lay back (if you can) and listen to what the percentage of us not tied to our iThings are hearing.  I Feel Better!!!

Frank Gutch Jr: On Writing About Music

 

It isn’t easy.  To most of you it must look that way.  Six, eight paragraphs about a band or an album, a few videos picked up off the Net.  Two hours, tops.  On the columns which didn’t go so well, maybe fifteen minutes (and a six pack of beer, after re-reading a few of them).  But it isn’t easy and it takes me a lot longer than you might think.  There have been times I’ve written five drafts and finally submitted the sixth out of pure frustration.  Three, four days and not a thing to show for it.  And then there have been the three hour jobs—- the ones in which I elucidate about the days of transistor radios and Fender amps (they were king when I was young).  Unfortunately, those are few and far between.

Frank Gutch Jr: Space Opera… the Final Frontier; Spotify Revisited (Revisited); Plus Notes

 

I was sitting here navigating the social media this past week when I noticed a rockumentary I thought I had seen before— one on Ed Dougherty, who had headed up Oregon’s connection to rock music back in the sixties, booking acts both local, regional, and national in the Pacific Northwest.  I was sure I had seen it, having written about it in more than one of my columns, but I was feeling nostalgic and took the plunge anyway.

Frank Gutch Jr: ‘Til Death Do Us Part… A Nod To Musicians Who Left Us In 2015, But First…; Plus Notes!

This is not my favorite column to write.  In my youth, death was death, something which happened to everyone else.  As a young man, I looked upon it as simply draining the talent pool because by then I was consumed with music— immersed in it to the point that life beyond it was a blur.  In middle-age, it began becoming personal— friends and favorites taking the dive either stunningly quick or in dire circumstances.

Frank Gutch Jr: Music To Stuff Stockings By… And With; Plus No Notes… Consider It a Lump of Coal

It’s that time of year again, sports fans.  Santa has been on the radio for the past two months, robot disc jockeys and purveyors of everything muzak beating us senseless with varying renditions of Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree and Jolly Old Saint Nicholas, hoping to lighten our mood enough to loosen the old purse strings.  Hallmark Channel have kicked into full Christmas mode, plastering their channels with their cookie-cutter movies which vary mostly by the changing of leading ladies (this year’s favorite, by far, is Hilarie Burton, whom I saw in an old Castle episode and was floored by not only her beauty but the fact that the casting could not have been more right).  I wish they had more creativity over at Hallmark, their overuse of the five plots and rotating stars coming very close to consumer abuse.  But, hey, I’m a sap.

Frank Gutch Jr: David Bullock: The Price of Obscurity and the Struggle For Balance; Plus Notes

The first thing David Bullock said to me when I asked about his new EP, In the Waking World, was, and this is paraphrased, “How do I write my bio without emphasizing Space Opera?”  I wanted to say hell if I know but the more I thought about it the easier it seemed.  Only because I probably know more about that band than maybe a dozen people out there (beyond the crazies who go out of their ways to find out what a musician has for breakfast).

Frank Gutch Jr: Brian Cullman, David Bullock, Bill Jackson, and Tom House: People and Stories Behind My Favorite New Music, Plus Notes From the Musical Underground…..

 

I want to tell you about four musicians— people, really— but I don’t know if I can.  Oh, I could tell a few stories, wrangle up some comments and maybe tell you about their music, which is more than likely what I will attempt to do, but I will not be able to really tell you anything about them.  Does a resume ever say anything about the person?  I don’t think so.   But it may be the place to start.

Frank Gutch Jr: And Now For Something Completely (Well, Almost) Different, Plus Notes…..

Before I begin this, a little heads up.  Fort Worth, that bastion of musical lugubriation which has been producing worthy quarter and eighth note treatises since before Rock was born, is gracing us with two projects of which you need to be aware.  One involves Jim Colegrove and cohort Roscoe West (and a cast of others) who have come together in a group calling themselves Men of Extinction.  With music dipped in Country & Western and old-time Rock with a little Soul thrown in on the side, they have put together a very tasty and sometimes humorous album titled We Made It Ourselves.  And they did.