It was touch and go in the early part of 2016 for Classic Rock. Half the people that have ever made music in my lifetime died in the first 6 months. That’s an exaggeration, of course, but it looked like it was going to be up to The Rolling Stones to save the planet. Well, since the release of The Beatles documentary “Eight Days A Week” the geezers are rallying.
Through a generous offering by not one, but two friends (thanks Stacey and Danielle!), my wife and I got to see the solo return of Canadian singer-songwriter/multi-instrumentalist Lawrence “But You Can Call Me Larry” Gowan this past week at the Empire Theatre in Belleville to a sold out crowd.
Another week has passed and this stinking cold is still hanging around like a nasty smell (not that I can smell anything). It has wiped that smug “I haven’t had a cold in 10 years” look right off my face. I ended up with a high temp the other night so hauled myself out to see the doc. Lungs are, in her words, “crystal clear”. Damn!!!! It’s viral. So, here I sit, taste buds shot, no smell (not even burning toast), hacking and coughing and severely pissed off!! According to many, this nasty monster can hang around for weeks. I am NOT impressed. Tea with lemon and honey and curling up with my favourite sweater at night is all I’ve got. Okay, I’m done bitching and whining. This column will be another short one and a roundup of some of the upcoming music events.
I’ve run out of epitaphs. The battlefield of pop continues to accumulate bodies. During this past week we were reminded of the passing of Karen Carpenter (33 years ago) and the officially recognized Day the Music Died (really? Then what have we been listening to in the intervening 57 years?).
We rewind, once again, to 1978 and 1979 and a trio of record reviews I wrote for the New Music Magazine. It actually makes me feel uncomfortable when I go back and read these reviews as my humour was sophomoric, the writing was weak, and in a lot of instances I really missed what was important, or not important about some of these records. I was young.
Jaimie Does the Rock
I find myself at the front end of yet another re-invention of myself. When last I spoke of my day job I was driving automobiles for a subcontractor to one of Canada’s only two railroads. It wasn’t CN. The job nearly killed me. It was so labour intensive and the hours were so long that I actually don’t remember getting to or from work some days.
Bravo to those that waded into the Neil Young debate with my blog from last week. I’m still getting hate mail so clearly it hit a nerve. When Neil solves the energy crisis, world peace and how to tune a guitar, let me know. I’ll retract the entire piece. Now on to something a little more frivolous…
This week Forbes magazine released their straw poll of the Top 20 best driving songs. The list is here. http://www.forbes.com/sites/jimgorzelany/2014/01/14/journey-places-two-hits-among-best-driving-songs-list-really/
Time once again for the annual Rock and Roll Hall of Fame debate. Nominations are out for the class of 2014, and, for a couple of days, everyone is talking rock’n’roll. Speaking of which why the hell isn’t it called the “Rock’n’Roll Hall of Fame”? Maybe that explains a lot. Until December 5th you can vote online for your five faves, and the public vote will be used (in a very, very small way) towards the final count.
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 