Archive for I’m With Her

Frank Gutch Jr: Christmas and the Doppler Effect Plus Notes and Coffee (er, Cherry Slice)

Posted in Opinion, Review with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on December 12, 2017 by segarini

It is almost Christmas and, as usual at this time of year, I am looking backward.  It hasn’t always been this way but the older I get the more it is,  As a child, like most children, Christmas was a fun and magical time, but to most children all of life is.  There is something about the young— they have hope and fascination for the simple things and are able to see the joy in watching ants or slugs or anything alive just live.  They wonder about the varieties of trees and why fish lay eggs and frogs too— so many eggs!  In the first grade, I used to walk way out of my way when coming home from school just to walk by the mill pond up the hill because of the clumps of frog eggs clinging to the reeds and grasses along the edge.  They were teaching us about life in school and had a fishbowl with a handful of fertilized eggs and, class by class, the teachers would have us file by once a day to see life’s progress.  To a six- or seven-year old there was pure enchantment at watching the eggs go from embryo to tadpole to frog.  No one else seemed to pay much attention, but children were enthralled.  Children, in fact, know way more than you think just because they pay attention.

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Frank Gutch Jr: Thoughts on Big Star, The Little Band That Wasn’t Until One Day, Forty Years Later, It Was; Plus Updates and Voluminous Notes of a Lugubrious Nature

Posted in Opinion, Review with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on October 3, 2017 by segarini

It was a epiphanal moment, one where an aura engulfs something or someone with angelic choir background.  In this case, it engulfed the first two albums released by new and tiny Ardent Records: Cargoe‘s self-titled classic and Big Star‘s #1 Record.  I held them up and asked Gary Haller, co-owner of Eugene’s now famed House of Records if they were any good.  They looked good, the slick glossy covers showing artsy pictures of the bands, the neon Big Star sign classy in an Andy Warhol sort of way.  “Dunno,” Gary replied.  “Nice artwork, though.”  I brooded over them for the next hour or so, pulling other records from the racks to read liner notes I had already read numerous times, hoping that this time I would find inspiration.  To buy.  To listen.  To covet.

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