It’s confession time. Some of my devoted readers are not going to like it. It’s related to my disdain for certain genres of music so if you’ve got a strong constitutional defense for the music you love you may want to read the ‘New Yorker’ in your smoking jacket instead. Or track down re-re-re-runs of the Grand Ol’ Opry on TVland. I’m a dyed-in-the-wool music snob. I have no patience or interest in Jazz, The Blues or Country music.
Rolling Stone Magazine recently released their latest ‘list’, “The 100 Greatest Songwriters” rollingstone.com). Let me repeat that title, “The 100 Greatest Songwriters”. Their descriptive line states “From Brill Building tunesmiths to Punk poets, from Woody Guthrie to Max Martin, the visionaries who defined music history.”
So, what project in your life has taken you the longest to complete? Has anything you’ve really wanted to do ever taken you 18 years? Most likely not, but that’s how long it took director Denny Tedesco to complete his documentary on a small group of musicians in Los Angeles who, from the late 1950’s through to the 1970’s, supplied the rhythm section (drums, bass, guitar, keyboards, percussion, saxophone) for hundreds, if not thousands of hit records.
Once again, I must begin by apologizing for not mentioning something rather important in a previous column. I included the Shuffle Demons’ classic tune, “Spadina Bus,” in last week’s piece, without noting that one of the Demons, Richard Underhill, is currently running for the position of Toronto’s next mayor. You can read all about his platform here: http://www.underhillformayor.com.
February is the perfect month in which to have a Valentine’s Day, isn’t it? The dark days of winter mirror the endless darkness of your so called life and press on your last nerve, and the cold sneaks through the windows and under the doors like icy fingers, seeking out your most tender bits. What better time to join in a mass celebration of tawdry lingerie and heart 
shaped chocolates? Snuggle up to your honey, maybe even take off the socks that you’ve been wearing to bed for two months, and get your cuddles on.
Or at least, that’s what we’re told to expect.
Bullseye Records of Canada
Segarini: Don't Believe a Word I Say 