Frank Gutch Jr: Scott Boyer: A Message In the Wind; A Repeat About Vinyl; and Them Tasty Notes

Scott Boyer has died.  Since the summer of 1971 I have been spouting his name— his and Tommy Talton‘s and Bill Pillmore‘s and Tom Wynn‘s and George Clark‘s and Pete Kowalke‘s (now living and still playing music under his not-so-new moniker, Peter Giri). They called themselves Cowboy and were a six-pronged country rock outfit out of Jacksonville who signed with Capricorn Records right after The Allman Brothers Band— indeed, signed because of The Allmans.  I say Jacksonville because that is where they settled as the band was forming.

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: It’s Gone, Man… Real Gone; Plus Notes That If You Blink, You Might Miss

 

I know, I know.  I was the one screaming the loudest and the longest about local news hyping first the Microsoft system upgrades and the the latest iThing of the moment, but this ain’t no news program and I am promoting this for a reason.  I try to get you guys interested in music, which isn’t always easy, and the I have to listen to the “there ain’t no good music anymore” and “it’s all been done before” excuses.  Well, here we are, then.  I have some music for you which not only precludes the music that was good before good became bad, but it’s on sale.  That’s right.  Until October 2^nd, Real Gone Music is pumping some of my favorite music, this time not of the day but of the past.  Sale items are CDs, folks.  Whether you like them or not.

Frank Gutch Jr: The Name Is Holmes— Nick Holmes… Plus Notes

That is how I picture Holmes— tuxedoed, debonair, suave, in control.  He started out a folkie— sang with The Serendipity Singers, in fact, though I can hardly hear his voice in any kind of ensemble.  It is slightly rough and textured but with a real edge definitely unique.  One single by The Singers (“What Will We Do With the Child”) was released with that voice but it did not chart. It did warrant a solo artist contract, though, and Holmes recorded one.  It unfortunately never made it to press,

Frank Gutch Jr: It Is Catch-UP Time Again, But First, Let’s Talk Petunia (In a Viperly Sort of Way)… Plus Note(s)

I don’t know if it’s music or it is just the way things are and I just miss it all the time, but there is a tsunami of music headed our way and I can’t keep up.  As many videos and songs and albums as I can find, there are mountains awaiting to be discovered on what seems a daily basis.  I don’t know what to do.  I’m drowning and I’m on the freaking shore.  So set yourself.  We are going on a little ride which might be a long one because I am going to pack as much as I can into one column if for no other reason than to ease my conscience.  That’s right.  It bothers me when so many musicians cannot even scratch the surface— the good ones anyway.

Frank Gutch Jr: I Got Blistuhs on Muh Finguhs!!! (Plus Notes)

… and I’m looking for trouble because that’s just what you have to do sometimes.  Tributes and covers are sucking the soul right out of me and probably out of the goddamn entire world but you soulless bastards have no clue!  This whole I-got-to-see-the-best-bands and there-ain’t-no-good-music-anymore attitude is killing the listening floor (screw the dance floor) and I’ve had it up to my neck with the I-don’t-like-today’s-music-so-fuck-you memes on the social media and threads in the forums to the point that I’m thinking hell could not be a worse place to live— at least compared to this musical rotgut of a world we live in today.

Frank Gutch Jr: The Music Industry: The More It Changes The More It Stays the Same, Plus Notes…..

I know it’s true because I have just had an epiphanic weekend (and a few naps) and can see clearly now (with a nod to Johnny Nash, whose I Can See Clearly Now has indeed stayed the same for decades).  It has been a flashback in more ways than one.  The music, of course, for I have been handed some of the best retro I’ve heard in some time.  A few thoughts came to mind too, thanks to Jaimie Vernon‘s reactivated Bullseye Canada Records and a bit of time trying to figure out exactly what happened to the old music industry paradigm, and while I see a bright future for music I see a constant morphing happening as well.  The print side of music is also showing signs of life again, though not yet for writers, who will have to suffer the bread lines for awhile longer if not forever.

Frank Gutch Jr: Majors Creek (Australia) Music Fest Carries On Without Founder Peter Gillespie, Memories of the Eugene Pop Festival of 1969, and E.J. Simpson— The Most Base of Bassists… Plus the Ever-Wondrous Notes…..

If you live in the States or Canada, you can be forgiven for not knowing about Majors Creek, for there are plenty of people who live in Australia who know little or nothing about it.  Here is a DBAWIS primer for those in the dark.

Frank Gutch Jr: Vinyl: It’s What’s For Christmas…..

Christmas.  It’s the time for joy and camaraderie and faith.  It’s the time of giving and sharing and, for most, receiving.  Debts are forgiven at Christmas, and people too.  Indeed, the power of Christmas could almost save the world and would, according to Hollywood, if given half a chance.

Frank Gutch Jr: The Forgotten Past, Recent and Otherwise; Plus a Few (Very Few) Notes

 

Joseph LeMay‘s album Seventeen Acres has been out how long?  Three months?  I wrote about it in an earlier DBAWIS column and have barely mentioned it since.  I have to wonder why.  I love some of the songs on that album and like everything about it.  It is beautifully recorded, masterfully produced and mastered and, even more important, made up of outstanding songs.  And yet I push it into the past.  So I started thinking— how does that happen?