Good morning, campers!
It’s your old pal Keith Moon here. You know, “Moonie,” “Moon the Loon” …or, as I very much prefer, The Greatest Rock and Roll Drummer that Ever Was, that is. Or was. I think… But I digress.
Anyroad, we meet today so that I may bring your undivided attention to this marvelous DVD entitled – just a moment here, as I do want to make sure I get this completely correct – ahh, yes. Keith Moon, Final 24: His Final Hours.
I’ve been deep into music since shortly after my 14th birthday. Three quarters of my life has been spent doing something I love. A lot. The side benefit has been that I’ve been able to create music as well. As much as any computer whiz with software can create “music” these days, I came about my (cough cough) talent honestly.
My last blog on January 26th on “The Wrecking Crew” documentary went through the roof in terms of readership, so Boss Segarini tells me. I think that’s mainly because Denny Tedesco, the Director of the documentary about the session musicians of the ‘60’s and ‘70’s, re-posted it to his list of contacts.
I’ve got a shitload of CDs to review sitting on my desk – Bob Menzies’ “One More Highway”, Goddo’s “The Pretty Bad Boys Return” (which is also a DVD), Half Past Four’s “Good Thing” and Klaatu’s “Sir Army Suit” re-issue (also with DVD). I have had no time to sit and listen to any of these with the attention and intent I always reserve for my reviews because of a million personal things going on right now – not the least of which is a day gig. To give the music a cursory listen would be an insult to the artists who put blood, sweat and cashola into seeing these things to fruition. Sometimes it takes years to get a disc off the ground. I owe the creators more than 5 minutes of listening to them.
After writing about fall’s wonders two weeks ago, it was odd to wake up that Monday to the beginning of a week of Indian summer. Sunny and mild, the weather was perfect for the celebrities and guests swarming Toronto’s streets for TIFF. The beautiful people and their entourages swanned in and out of event venues in their little black dresses, smart cocktail gowns, and Manolo Blahnik shoes.
Bullseye Records of Canada
Segarini: Don't Believe a Word I Say 