I’m not sure how to start today’s column. Sitting listening to Eddie Bullen’s smooth jazz and picturing Oregon in my mind. There are long pauses between each sentence I type. Wrapping up someone’s life…..it’s not easy. It’s deeply personal and highly emotional. Frank put everything he had into his writing, almost desperate to “spread the word” about the music and artists he loved. I knew he struggled with his own demons as well so I wasn’t sure what pieces of Frank I was going to find.
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.
I was looking through the Book of Face pages the other day and ran across a post about The Sidewalk Scene. I remember them, friend Ray Brandes having been a frontman for them how long ago? Two years so? Three years? The post linked to a page which showcased four studio-produced tracks, all jangly and sixties-oriented. Music, in fact, that I remember fondly.
Bullseye Records of Canada
Segarini: Don't Believe a Word I Say 