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: The Pac Northwest— Not Just The Raiders, Sonics, and Wailers; and Notes, Notes and More Notes

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.

Frank Gutch Jr: The Wailers VS The Sonics: Two Legends from the Land of Louie Louie

I am cheating.  I am so far behind I am overwhelmed and forced to recreate a column I wrote for my Indie Musicology pages back in April of this year and, as much as I hate to duplicate, if I have written anything worth duplicating, this is it.  Kent Morrill, keyboardist and showman for The Fabulous Wailers, had just passed away and the memories were nothing short of an avalanche of emotions and thoughts as an important part of my youth was lost yet refound.

Frank Gutch Jr: The Pacific Northwest…That Sound!

They call the sound “garage” these days.  The sound of The Sonics and The Fabulous Wailers (who were always referred to as just The Wailers in the Pac Northwest) and Mr. Lucky & The Gamblers and Paul Bearer & The Hearsemen and so many more who relied on that harder edge to get teens to dance.  Older people called it garbage and maybe it was, but by the gods, teens would have said (if they’d thought of it) it is our garbage, and they hung onto it like it was the last order of fries they might ever get.  Not all teens, but enough of them.  Enough to pack the various National Guard Armories which were the core of the NW venues allowing rock ‘n’ roll.  Enough to place bands like The Gentlemen Wild and The Live Five and The Dimensions on the rock charts— the local rock charts.  Was there ever really anything but local?  Not then and not up here.