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.
There are a large number of reasons I love writing for DBAWIS. For one thing, I get to write amongst some of the best writers out there. I have had it in my mind to put together a list of must-read columns with thumbnail reviews and easy links so others could read what I have read, though I am sure with different eyes. You see, I found DBAWIS very early in its existence, when Bob Segarini was writing what was then his column for FYI Music in Canada. At first, I was just following Segarini, a musician I much admired after having interviewed him for Pop Culture Press for their “Summer of Love” issue.
In fact, this may damn well be the year I kick the bucket. My life has pretty much been music, or music at its core, and it has never been better and I have to say that this next year promises to be the best yet. Ever have that feeling that you can’t lose? I not only have that feeling but am overwhelmed by it, politics be damned! So pardon me while I crawl into my hole and surround myself with a future major labels only dream about. Pay attention. There will be a quiz.
I don’t know what youth wants from us old farts, especially when it comes to music. Many mock us for being Boomers, many laugh at our music. I can understand. I laugh at us, too. Our insistence that stars are gods, especially rock and movie stars. Our self-indulgence. Our knowledge that we more than any others are omniscient. God, but there have been times when I wished I had been borne of another generation (until I look at the other generations and realize that they are as fucked up as are we).
With apologies to The Records (that’s the band, sports fans) and their song Teenarama. I was sitting here plowing my way through one of my more favorite albums of the past few weeks by one Sandrider and wondering what it is that makes us turn right or left when mood strikes us— to bang heads with Freedom Hawk and Sandrider and then slither into the sixties and early seventies pop garden with The Records and The Shoes. It’s a hell of a jump from “Cut down these heathens” to “C-c-c-c-c-cola is all you ever drink,” from “Hold not your blades to our sad thirsty throats” to “Teenarama/All that melodrama/Gimme gimme gimme gimme/Teenarama” but it is a jump I make all the time. It’s no wonder I’m screwed up. I can’t walk a straight line. Hell, sometimes I can barely walk!
Before we dive in to that 800 pound gorilla, Spotify, I want to point out that Toronto has two more chances to catch one of the most impressive bands to live within Canada’s borders. I caught Picture The Ocean‘s set in Portland a week or two ago and I couldn’t have been more impressed. Impressed enough to keep the new album on heavy rotation, listening-wise. Impressed enough to relive many of the outstanding moments of the band that night. Impressed enough to trumpet the band to any and all who will listen. This band is the real deal, my friends, and they are holding down a “residency” (whatever the hell that is) at The Cameron House the next two Tuesdays and will be playing from 6-8 PM. Now, I don’t jump up and down for that many artists and/or bands (okay, I do, but it’s only because the bands I love are bands you need to hear), so take my word for it. If I’m wrong, I’ll give you ten free whacks at the whipping post. I’m telling you, these guys are good! An antidote to the musical blahs. An argument against there being no good music anymore. You can thank me later. And now…
With apologies to Jim Carroll, of course. Had I used his actual lyrics, it would be “Those”, and until today I have to confess I had no idea what the song was about. I bobbed my head and listened to the beat more than the lyrics the many times I heard the song and I now wonder why because I am a day closer to that day, every day, and am just now seeing death for the loss it really is.
That’s right, sports fans. Sometimes you just have to line up and bang, that’s all there is to it. It makes me laugh because when I think of headbanging I see long-haired guitarists lining up, Status Quo-style, heads flopping in unison to the beat, and if headbanging is about nothing else it is about the beat. I caught the bug in the late Sixties and early Seventies when hard rock began to become even harder rock and finally gave way to the throbbing wall of sound crunch of even harder rock. I loved it.
Bullseye Records of Canada
Segarini: Don't Believe a Word I Say 