Archive for Indie Artists

Frank Gutch Jr: Tania Stavreva; Sometimes It Takes a Choir; Plus Them Damn Addictive Notes

Posted in Opinion, Review with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on October 17, 2017 by segarini

Time to bust outta this place, amigos.  Time to strike out into the unknown— well, lesser known— and visit city cousins, because we are definitely heading toward the city.  No Hoi Polloi allowed where we’re going—  nothing but royalty and coronation balls.  I would make a joke here but lowering standards is beneath us today, okay?  Today hamburger is not on the menu.  More like foie gras— to the more common among us, goose liver.  Not just any goose liver, though.  This is, like I said, foie gras, a mixture of specially fattened goose liver to please the palate if the mind.  And of the ears.

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Frank Gutch Jr: Classic Rock— Not As Classic As You Might Think; Plus, In Keeping With the Theme, Notes of a Classic Nature

Posted in Opinion, Review with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on October 10, 2017 by segarini

 

I would love to gather all of the music directors of so-called Classic Rock radio stations in the Roman Coliseum and turn the lions loose.  I was around long before the term Classic Rock was even phrased and as big a fan of rock radio as there was and I learned to hate everything radio tried to do after big money came in with all of their ideas to make radio “better.”  I suffered through a number of formats from the time of “Boss” radio to the present, the only one being worth a shit (to my mind) being Underground.  Ah, the days of underground.  I remember returning from the Army to Eugene and radio station KZEL and being floored with evening sets by The Wasted Potato (I think his name was Gary Parmentier) like War/Four Cornered Room, The Temptations/Masterpiece, and Funkadelic/Maggot Brain, back-to-back-to-back.

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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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Frank Gutch Jr: Danny Schmidt, Carrie Elkin w/ Maizy— Thoughts Before and After Junction City; It Is F**k Trump Day at Dbawis; and the Notes You May Have Been Awaiting (because “waiting for” would bring out the Grammar Police)

Posted in Opinion, Review with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on August 29, 2017 by segarini

I met Danny Schmidt at The Sisters Folk Festival nine years ago.  He had invited me to attend, though I am sure he forgot it right away.  I know I surprised him.  My first words to him as he passed by to play a set in a tented area were “The Longhorns suck” which brought the Look of Death for Danny was and is a fervent Texas Longhorn fan, him having grown up in Austin and all.  I realized my mistake right off.  He had no idea who I was, having never seen me before.  And it wasn’t his best day.

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Frank Gutch Jr: Notes Are All I Have Left….

Posted in Opinion, Review with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on August 22, 2017 by segarini

It has been another one of those days.  I struggled with what I thought was a good idea all day but it turned to dust in my hands.  Pure drivel.  Which leaves me with what I consider the best part of my column anyway— The Notes.  Feel free to take your time, enjoy the news and videos, maybe take it a step further if you have a mind to.  The artists I feature in my columns are always meant as a fingerpoint.  Seriously.  I am still searching for the music of Lisa LeBlanc, one of my discoveries from last week.  The good ones deserve the scrutiny.  For right now, I am going to take my tired carcass to bed.  It has been frustrating, to say the least.  I only wish my dog had eaten my homework.

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Frank Gutch Jr: John Stewart— More Than Just “Gold”; Wayne Berry— Welcome Home

Posted in Opinion, Review with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on August 15, 2017 by segarini

I picked up a turntable for my sister a couple of months ago.  She had found what she said was about twenty of her old albums (it was more like a hundred and fifty) and had the urge to once again hear them.  Mostly they were albums I remember her liking— Percy Faith, Rod McKuen, Enoch Light and the like.  She drove me nuts with those albums when we were kids but I secretly liked a lot of them.  (I did truly hate the Sound of Music, Colleen, but the others were okay).

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Frank Gutch Jr: The Radio Chronicles: Nightmare @ 20,000 Watts (A Mindblower); Mike Marino: The AM Radio Dream; and Jim Peters: Tulsa and KAKC = Valhalla; Plus Two Measly Notes (Would That Make One of Them a Half-Note?)

Posted in Opinion, Review with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on August 1, 2017 by segarini

I must listen to hundreds of albums a year— at least sample that many— and there are few which really floor me. I try to write about the ones which do, though even then the words sometimes escape me and those reviews remain unwritten. It isn’t easy, writing reviews on a constant basis, so when an album comes along which I not only love but wish I could have been part of— or at least been privy to some of the creative process— it is rare.

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