They were Jesse Dee & Jacquie B when I first heard them— two waifs supposedly in the outbacks of the Yukon surviving by hunting and survival skills, living off the land, playing bars for beer. They ate raw meat, sometimes frozen if there was no way to thaw it (there evidently isn’t, on the whole), but skirted moose and squirrel out of respect.
Nick Holmes is a friend of mine. I have never met him nor have I even talked with him on the phone but he is a friend, nonetheless. He sends me stuff. Anyone who sends me stuff is my friend. Send me some stuff and you’ll find out. It seems like only yesterday (it was over two years ago) that he sent me CD copies of two albums I, up to that time, never even knew existed: And it seems like just yesterday (because it was) that I received his brand spanking new CD, Sonar. There is a story behind Nick and his music and I hesitate to tell that story here because I have told it a few times and hate to repeat myself too much, but if you want to read a fascinating story about his early years in New York and how we became acquainted, follow this link.
You don’t know how many times a day I just plain want to kill myself. I wake up in the morning, turn on the computer and while it boots up, brush my teeth and wash my face only to confront a computer aflame with news which is not news and a world going to hell in a handbasket. I never thought that this country would turn into a seething pile of manure but it’s well on its way and there looks to be no turning back. What the hell happened? Is it the Internet? Is it the smart phone? Is it The Bible? Whatever it is, something has turned us against one another. Democrat against Republican. Vegans against red meat eaters. The Tea Party against everybody.
Bullseye Records of Canada
Segarini: Don't Believe a Word I Say 