Yesterday I went through all of the private messages I’d shared with Frank Gutch Jr, since I’d first encountered him. It was in 2013, just after I’d begun writing this weekly column, and right from that first message, it was as though we were separated at birth.
This is not my favorite column to write. In my youth, death was death, something which happened to everyone else. As a young man, I looked upon it as simply draining the talent pool because by then I was consumed with music— immersed in it to the point that life beyond it was a blur. In middle-age, it began becoming personal— friends and favorites taking the dive either stunningly quick or in dire circumstances.
Remember when I said 2012 was the best year ever in music? 2013 is even at this early date biting 2012 on the ass. Artists are lining up with what I am sure is going to be a run and a half of outstanding and, in some cases, mindblowing offerings. Rather than wait and write about them pretty much after the fact, let us dig in now in a sort of anticipatory way, shall we?
How long ago was it that Spotify tossed their hat into the ring on this now contentious music subscription battle? A little over a year? And did I not hold off judgment during that time, awaiting results? I know! Wottaguy, huh? Well, I fell off of the fence the past couple of weeks and landed in a mosh pit full of musicians, most not too happy with the cake that the music industry’s Marie Antoinettes been offering. A slice of cake so thin you can see through it.
Bullseye Records of Canada
Segarini: Don't Believe a Word I Say 