I am a vinyl addict. The gateway drug was radio. When it was riding the crest of the wave before TV came along and kicked it to the curb that wasn’t there. Before TV which a lot of people thought would be the death of radio, a format already writhing in pain. You could only get so big and radio was gargantuan— a seething mass of gelatinous goo— an 800 pound gorilla. By the time I came along, everyone had a radio.
Jack Ely‘s dead! Long live the King(sman). I hope that doesn’t come off as flippant for it is certainly not meant that way. While Jack was not really a friend of mine, he was an acquaintance. Sort of. I knew him, though. Here is how that came about. (Those who already know the story can scroll down to “Jim Terr.”
So, what project in your life has taken you the longest to complete? Has anything you’ve really wanted to do ever taken you 18 years? Most likely not, but that’s how long it took director Denny Tedesco to complete his documentary on a small group of musicians in Los Angeles who, from the late 1950’s through to the 1970’s, supplied the rhythm section (drums, bass, guitar, keyboards, percussion, saxophone) for hundreds, if not thousands of hit records.
This week Paul Revere of 1960s pop band Paul Revere & The Raiders passed away at the age of 76. He and his band were one of the second generation of pop stars who took the post-Elvis world by storm on the back of Beatlemania.
One thing about history. Given enough time, it is a shadow of its former self. No matter what happens, importance of virtually everything is either magnified or diminished depending upon a number of factors. By the time it has been filtered over the years, it is not even remotely what it started out to be. The Twenties obviously weren’t all Gatsby and The Thirties weren’t all dust bowl and depression. There was so much more than the War (that would be of the Second World variety, sports fans) and recovery from to the Forties and if the US had lived the Fifties like Hollywood said, we would have fought like hell to stay there. Of course, by the time it got to us, it was Cliff’s Notes all over again.
Bullseye Records of Canada
Segarini: Don't Believe a Word I Say 