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.
His real name is Steve Suhadolnik but they called him The Duck after a weekend in Seattle with his buddies Newman Newman and Dahlgreen left all three of them practically penniless because of Newman Newman’s hours-long call to his girl back in Indiana while the Duck and Dahlgreen took in a double-feature and (I am sure) trolled Pike Street for hookers. See, The Duck had this thing for hookers, having spent a year in Bangkok living with one. Number One, in fact. He always told me, you ever make it to Bangkok go down to the Thermay Lounge and ask for Number One. Then he would smile, just like in this picture, and smack his lips.
But first, a word from our sponsor. Well, not sponsor, exactly. In fact, just the opposite. Well, not exactly opposite. A few weeks ago, you might remember that I posted a few words about Sheldon Gomberg, the man behind Sweet Relief III: Pennies From Heaven, an album recorded for charity (all proceeds will go to Sweet Relief, an organization committed to helping musicians in need), and before that, I devoted a column to that organization through an interview with Sweet Relief‘s Rob Max.
A couple of years ago— well, maybe a few now— I spent a summer reading and hearing about how this Sheryl Crow track (I can’t think of the title at the moment) was the anthem of the summer and captured everything good about the season. When I finally heard it, my mental jaw dropped. I could not believe that anyone could hear anything inspiring about the song or the performance. It was decent enough, I suppose, but it didn’t make me want to sing or dance or hit the freeway with the top down and sing along at the top of my voice. That’s what an anthem is supposed to do, right? Inspire?
“That’s it.” That is the final word in this video Norton Records posted on Vimeo not long ago. Not, “That’s it, we’re done.” More like, “That’s it, there is nothing more to say at this time.” Head Nortonite Billy Miller had just given the rundown on the work being done to salvage as much as possible from the devastation they had incurred from Hurricane Sandy and a heartbroken Mirriam Linna had showed us the warehouse where boxes of vinyl lay piled in heaps like dunes on a beach (wall-to-wall) and, truth be told, that was it for those comments because they and a whole host of volunteers had and have a mountain of work ahead of them.
Bullseye Records of Canada
Segarini: Don't Believe a Word I Say 