Back in the days when music ruled the world, we all had our benchmarks. The night The Beatles played Ed Sullivan. That day at Altamont. The many deaths of greats and those who would have been greats, from Buddy Holly to Duane Allman and too many others. Musical moments which marked where you were in your life and how important music was. Because music used to be that important.
Looking back has become a thing of the present lately. It began when I felt a guilt sneak over me because so many of the artists I have written about have seemingly passed their buy-by date. The listening public, it seems, only want the past in terms of oldies or the classics. God forbid they should let the music decide for them. Add to that my inability at times to come up with fresh subject matter and a nostalgic bent and it seems the logical choice. It is doubtful that many of you have read many of my columns from the distant past and those who have probably have lost the gist. So why not visit the past here and there? I have gleaned through many columns and have picked a handful of segments I believe will be of interest to a wide variety of readers. Let us start with one overlooking the Pac Northwest, titled…
Bullseye Records of Canada
Segarini: Don't Believe a Word I Say 