Frank Gutch Jr: Music Millennium: Still Weird After All These Years; Meet Sid Hagan; Plus Them Glorious Notes

It plays like a loop in my head, the first time I visited Music Millennium. I remember the drive to Portland from Eugene, parking down the hill on East Burnside, the walk up the street and even opening the door. Had I filmed it, it could not be any more clear. I had been in many record stores before— in  fact, the guys with me were all denizens of Eugene’s House of Records— but this was different. This was the famed Millennium, the seller of imports, the mecca of what record stores should be as far as many of us were concerned. Tower Records may have had stores open at the time (it was the summer of ’72, though I have been saying ’71 for years and have only recently discovered my mistake) but the Pac Northwest didn’t know it. Why should we have cared? We had the Millennium!

Frank Gutch Jr: Too Good To Miss: Phoebe Bridgers, Kora Feder, Audrey Martells, and Jim Page, with Sidebars on David Bullock (Space Opera) and Jane Gowan (The Real Shade); Plus Another Weekly Dose of Notes

I think Phoebe Bridgers was twelve when I first heard of her.  I had just discovered Kim Grant, then cranking up Grand Ole Echo shows in L.A., and those shows quickly became legendary to me.  She (and a colleague, whose name escapes me at this moment) was booking everything below the radar in L.A. and many of those became inspiration for columns or reviews— Old Californio, I See Hawks in L.A., Pi Jacobs, Little Lonely, and so many more.  Occasionally she would mention Phoebe in her newsletters— mere mention of a young girl threatening to become a serious musician.

Frank Gutch Jr: Answering the Questions, Where Do Houseflies Socialize; You Only Believe Me When I’m Lying; Rolling Stones Magazine’s 100 Greatest Guitarists of All-Time? Seriously?; Plus Notes

The world doesn’t always go my way and sometimes I get so pissed about that that I have to vent.  GodDAMN if the world isn’t going the way of idiots and psychopaths as the Trump Generation attempts to destroy everything good, but I will be damned if I will let it happen to my music.  That’s right.  My music!  Sure, you have your music— The Beatles and Floyd  and Queen and even Beyonce and Kanye and whoever the hell else.  YOU don’t have to worry.  YOU can find that music and plenty of people who still love that music just walking down the street.  Me, I have to work for it.  I have to scrounge and search and listen and question at every turn.  You think that’s easy?

Frank Gutch Jr: Paradise Is Paved, Here Comes the Parking Lot… plus a Voluminous Collection of Note(s)

Goldband Studios is gone.  Here I have been spending the past few years singing the praises of Research Turtles— I call them the boys from Lake Charles— without realizing that the city/town/parish also was home to Eddie Shuler and Goldband.  Dumb me.  I have known of Goldband since I was in college, having found them through That Dorm Guy who was somehow plugged into anything and everything musical.  I look back now at him and wonder how he was able to find so much music in a land with pretty much nothing but Billboard Magazine to guide him, but he did.

Frank Gutch Jr: Lady Gaga? Really? How About the Real Women in Music?

My yardstick for music is a simple one.  If everyone likes it, it can’t be worth a shit.  Think Hitler as a rock star.  He, too, had a following, though few would own up to being part of it after the finale.  What is it that makes everyone so enamored with this musician as opposed to this other musician who is playing practically the same thing?  Hell if I know.  How does one become a hit overnight?  Hell if I know.  Why are people attracted to certain artists, en masse?  You guessed it.  Hell if I know.  But I can goddamn guarantee you that while you are talking about the Lady Gaga halftime show, and my guess is that most of you talking about music are, you’re missing a few thousand musicians worth hearing, some of them playing music way outside the formulaic box the Gaga has built for herself.  Taylor Swift?  I love some of her songs but there are songs as good as that out there if you take the time to listen.

Frank Gutch Jr: Getting Your Fa-La-La-Las (Christmas Compilations & Suggestions); Plus Notes

Nothing says Christmas like a curmudgeon and nobody is more of one than Jaimie Vernon which makes me wish I knew some of the stories behind his long career in music and, also, in life.  Regaling you with tales of chicken wire and whoopee cushions would make this a lot easier to write— nothing like fart jokes to liven up your reading— but it is Christmas season and I must put aside the slings and arrows, as humorous as they might be.

Frank Gutch Jr: John ‘Buck’ Ormsby: Maybe Out of His Tree, But Never Out of His League; Plus, Artists Who Should Have Made It (A Musical Roundup)

This morning was cold and wet with a chill that went to the bone, the clouds threatening, the rain off and on but somehow consistent.  I knew it would be.  Yesterday, my friend John Hicks had posted a message that Buck Ormsby had died.  No way, I thought, because I had had contact only a few days previous— just a note, but contact.  When I approached Hicks, he said that he had found out from Ormsby’s son’s page.  He sent me the link and there it was.  We are sorry to report… and the words became a blur.   While it hardly seemed possible, Buck was gone.  Is gone, for none of us will hear from him again and that is truly a sad thing.

Frank Gutch Jr: Charlottesville Revisited (Revisited),

The reason Charlottesville is being (Revisited) is because I do believe that somewhere out there in the ether Charlottesville has already been Revisited and, hell, I am sure I confuse people often enough without reusing headers.  It would be akin to writing a book and naming all the chapters “Chapter One,” which, now that I think about it, is a pretty good idea.  But the second Revisited, placed in parentheses, separates the first from the second, does it not?

Frank Gutch Jr: Nothing But Notes…..

 

I have been so overwhelmed with videos and new releases this week that I’ve decided to hit you all with nothing but Notes.  Videos you might want to see, news (mostly about new releases), and thoughts.  I am taking a week to get away by myself to hopefully get caught up.  Tons of reviews to write and notes to arrange.  I will be back on  track next week.  In the meantime, if you don’t have the time to look this over now, save the link and do it when you have a few seconds.  No sense in forcing it now when you could actually enjoy it at a later time.  There are some cool things here.  I know.  I screened them myself.

Frank Gutch Jr: Kate & Ruth Brian Cullman Stu Nunnery Bill Jackson No Small Children — Plus Notes

Please allow me to start this column with an aside.  Each year, I compile a list of albums I consider the best.  Last year, I picked Lost Leaders‘ self-titled album because it had that indescribable something which made me come back to it again and again.  I mean, I love this album!!!