Archive for Sweet Home Oregon

Frank Gutch Jr: 2017 Was Strange, I Reckon (and other tales of parties and debauchery)

Posted in Opinion, Review with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on December 5, 2017 by segarini

 Strange, indeed, as proven by this laugh out loud Christmas video by No Small Children.  You have to have followed the string of videos this excellent band has done over the past number of years, but if you have you will get it.  Subtle.  Very subtle.  And funny.  I cannot even begin to tell you the joy I have gotten from following their growth.  One of the best three-piece bands I have ever seen.

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Frank Gutch Jr: My Morbid But Sanguine World, Part Deux; Plus Notes…

Posted in Opinion, Review with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on November 28, 2017 by segarini

 

Let’s kick this weeks column off with a brand new video by guitarist Jon Gomm.  This dude has worked his ass off to get where he is and deserves all the publicity he gets, which is a damn lot.  Brand new and hot off the presses.  If nothing else, Gomm is famous for spitting in Simon Cowell’s eye.

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Frank Gutch Jr: My Morbid Yet Sanguine World

Posted in Opinion, Review with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on November 21, 2017 by segarini

Someone once told me I was eccentric.  I laughed out loud because I am the least eccentric of any people I know.  I am, in fact, so normal and middle-of-the-road that I occasionally label myself boring.  I am.  Boring, that is.  I am a puddle of mediocrity in a pool of ordinary.  The jack of all trades and master of none.  Neither the dimmest bulb nor the brightest.  Plain yogurt.  A one dollar bill.  I am as exciting as baseball in the off-season and Christmas in July.  I have been the second choice of too many girls to recount (Gosh, Frank, if it wasn’t for— insert name here— it would be you) and the tenth choice on a team of nine.  I write because I have no other talent.  I am the sponge which lives vicariously.  Even the kids who love me abandon me when they are old enough to realize…

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Frank Gutch Jr: It’s Gonna Be a Blues, Blues Christmas; A Look Back at Rich McCulley; Plus Notes

Posted in Opinion, Review with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on November 14, 2017 by segarini

 

I’m not a blues guy, really.  The closest I come to the real blues is B.B. King, maybe— electric guitar a must.  I listened to a little Sonny Terry & Brownie McGhee during my college years and there was always John Mayall, who seemed to have the best of the up-and-comers in his band no matter what period.  I accepted Cream as blues on certain songs, which probably tells you more about my non-blues background than anything.  Loved The Blues Project and Paul Butterfield.  Didn’t like Delta Blues.  Stevie Ray Vaughn is pretty much the best blues I have heard.  That should give you an idea of where I am coming from and where I am going because I am going to review some blues albums I enjoyed this year and tell you why.  They will be short and a couple even have stories behind them.

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Frank Gutch Jr: Wayne Berry’s Past and Future; plus Spurious Notes of a Curious Nature

Posted in Interview, Opinion, Review with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on November 7, 2017 by segarini

 

I woke up this morning and found this at the beginning of my newsfeed on the Book of Face:

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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

Posted in Opinion, Review with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on October 24, 2017 by segarini

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.

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Frank Gutch Jr: Tania Stavreva; Sometimes It Takes a Choir; Plus Them Damn Addictive Notes

Posted in Opinion, Review with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on October 17, 2017 by segarini

Time to bust outta this place, amigos.  Time to strike out into the unknown— well, lesser known— and visit city cousins, because we are definitely heading toward the city.  No Hoi Polloi allowed where we’re going—  nothing but royalty and coronation balls.  I would make a joke here but lowering standards is beneath us today, okay?  Today hamburger is not on the menu.  More like foie gras— to the more common among us, goose liver.  Not just any goose liver, though.  This is, like I said, foie gras, a mixture of specially fattened goose liver to please the palate if the mind.  And of the ears.

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