This is going to be a long one…….
For the early students of jazz, there were no books or educational courses. The best a young musician had was listening to the music live, following by recordings. You couldn’t take a live performance home, and recordings could be scarce, or simply out of reach financially. As jazz grew in popularity throughout the decades, more and more recordings made this rapidly changing genre more available and attainable.
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Skip Prokop and his band The Paupers were on their way to the ‘big game’ when they had two back-to-back blows. Their appearance at the Monterey Pop Festival in the summer of 1967 was an unmitigated disaster and the band’s long-time Canadian manager, Bernie Finkelstein, left the group in the hands of U.S. Uber-manager Albert Grossman. Grossman wasn’t going to let these setbacks slow the band down. In fact, he had the guys become surrogate backing musicians for several artists in his illustrious music stable. This would prove to be the undoing of The Paupers as Skip found himself attracted to working with big name acts:
Adam Mitchell was an integral new addition to The Paupers on lead vocals and rhythm guitar. Bernie Finkelstein had come on board as manager and wasted no time getting the band signed to MGM Records stateside. It was a springboard for what was to come. Bernie wanted to showcase the band to their new American label. It meant heading to the USA.
Several weeks ago I found out Maria Muldaur was performing at the venerable Hugh’s Room located in Toronto’s west end. I contacted Jane Harbury to see if it was possible to attend and photograph Maria (somehow I just can’t refer to her as Muldaur). It was a Richard Flohil event and through him I received permission. (Thank you Jane and Richard).
Tuesday marks the 147th birthday of this great Dominion known as Canada. Though we’re not quite as old as our brother to the south, our European lineage dates back to May 2, 1670 when the Dread Pirate Ernie Hudson got his ship stranded in the northern waters of the arctic looking for a direct passage to Santa’s Workshop. He and the crew survived on nothing but Her Queen’s Own Biscuits, Tea 
Candles and striped blankets knitted from the wool of extinct mammoths. The native population had already been here 11,000 years longer and resented the idea that you now had to trade 10 beaver pelts to get a birch bark canoe. We’ve come a long way since then but still pride ourselves on our cultural diversity, beavers, hockey and fornicating while watching hockey. Oh, and we seem to be able to write a mean ditty (not “diddy” you internet meme idiots).
Bullseye Records of Canada
Segarini: Don't Believe a Word I Say 