Fusion 45

Wherein Fusion 45 Contemplates The True Meaning of Vinyl Record Day

Tuesday, August 12 is Vinyl Record Day. My wife laughed when I told her this. She seemed to find it funny (though not nearly as funny as Vinyl Pants Day, which got a real laugh out of her).

Within the singularly obsessive community of music bloggers who dabble in vinyl - that is, old folks, mostly old guys, who think a musty box of records at a garage sale is nirvana - the fact of Vinyl Record Day is something like Gay Pride Day: a chance to come out of the closet (or perhaps the basement) and put an OFFICIAL stamp on an unofficial obsession. For those us who decide to do it wearing pumps and a feather boa, it could very well be a dual coming out party.

It’s a chance to consider the pros and cons of this fixation we have with these 12″ circles of black polyvinyl chloride, to account the many dollars spent, to exhalt in the many hours indulged, to witness the broken relationships over music tastes (her: the Ramones; me: Van Morrison). It’s a time to “see the big picture,” as they say, which, given the demise of decent album artwork since the advent of the CD, seems a rightful way to put it.

It all started somewhere: I can’t say for sure but I think my first album purchase happened in the summer of 1970, just before I turned seven. There was a place about 3 or 4 miles away from my house called Danny Discount. My family patronized Danny Discount not only for the extremely cheap vinyl shoes but for the fact that Dad was an advertising salesman and Danny was one of his customers.

To this day, I can still bring to mind the smell of the place as I walked up the ramp to the modified wearhouse where it was located: like a badly mixed Kiss album, it smelled of stale popcorn, cotton candy, mildew and formaldehyde (from all those vinyl shoes, which I believe deserve their own day, as well).

I bought a lot of records from Danny Discount over the years: my copy original copy of Takin’ It To The Streets, which I still have, was purchased there. I distinctly remember pondering many times whether to purchase Neil Diamond’s Hot August Nights as my parents hauled out cases of Diet Rite soda and car batteries. (I didn’t buy it…and still don’t own it….yet).

But the very first purchase was the Partridge Family album. I would later become extremely jealous of that holy triumvirate of pre-teen-girl-attention-stealing pretty boys (David Cassidy, Donny Osmond and Tony DeFranco) but, at seven, it was not an issue. I Think I Love You, sung in such a desperate voice, was actually something I related to back then.

To say I’ve lost count of the records that’ve passed through my hands since the David Cassidy years is quite a statement since I’ve spent many hours doing just that: counting and cataloging and organizing. Alphabetical by artist is always best (with Steve Miller Band under “M”, bonehead); by genre is easily the worst (where the hell do you put Living Color?).

At the peak of my record collecting obsession, I owned somewhere in the neighborhood of 5 or 6-thousand records. Tons of promos from radio stations where I worked, tons of stuff inherited from format changing stations, some never pulled from the jackets. That was fine while living in one place but once I started moving around I had to seriously consider the value of hauling around a complete library of Switch records.

Sometime around 1995 or so (gasp!) I dumped a few thousand on a used record store somewhere on the east side of Syracuse, New York. Those that were left have been torn from each other like brothers in separate foster homes: half of them are here with Dad in Washington, living well in the nice cool confines of the Buddha Barn while the other half are staying at Grandmom’s house.

I’ve considered taking PayPal donations here on the site for the purpose of uniting these sadly separated siblings, kind of like UNICEF for the vinyl generation. Bring The Records Home! Perhaps yellow magnetized ribbons for the back of your car. Why should the military be the only one to co-op Tony Orlando? We loved him first!)

My last purchase was a quartet of albums I picked up at a yard sale a few weeks ago: the very first Isley Brothers record onT-Neck (The Brothers: Isley); a scribbled-upon copy of Dwight Yoakam’s Hillbilly Deluxe; a hacked up version of the Impressions‘ This Is my Country and a copy of James Brown’s Sex Machine (Recorded Live at Home in Augusta, Georgia With His Bad Self).

My daughter and I had gone off for our weekly pony ride at my friend Julia’s farm. Whenever we’re together on the way to visit Texas and Daffodil, the floodgates open for her and she talks almost constantly about everything that’s on her mind. I don’t remember much about what she says — there’s so much of it — but I hear the rhythm of her speech in my dreams. It’s our time together in the mix of soccer games and baseball games and violin lessons and school work.

We were on our way home when we found this sale: she got a few stuffed animals, I got a few albums and we got two hours together.

The memories that go with the music and the records has more impact, sometimes, than the records themselves. And, in the end, that’s really what all this is all.

With love for the Car-Dog.

The Partridge Family - I Think I Love You

Somebody’s Gonna Be Pissed About This One

In celebration of Madonna’s 50th birthday, an artist by the obviously fake name of Rush Vizette has rented a space in London called the Red Gate Gallery to show off some art work he calls, with no hint of self-aggrandizement, “Cow’s Blood, the Bible & Madonna: The New Controversial Pop Art”.

The 16 pieces of mixed media are built around the collage pictured to the left, called “Rebel 1,” which does, in fact, include pages torn from the Bible and the splattered blood of formerly living cows.

Quoting himself in a self-written press release, Vizette impressed himself by saying, “(This exhibit) aims to pay homage to the world’s biggest and most controversial icon in a no holds barred attitude to idealize her edgy and her extreme individual self”. Later he suggested we think of him as “Andy Warhol meets Damien Hirst on a subject as unique and complex as Madonna”.

We’re compelled to wonder how, in fact, this could be “new controversial pop art” when he can be so easily compared to people who did “old pop art”. Based on what we’ve seen, we’re more likely to compare him to the stoner who sat next to us in Math class, drawing on himself with a ball point pen.

Madonna who, at last word, is a Kaballah-studying vegetarian was not available to answer the screaming question: What in the name of leather bustiers do bible pages and cow’s blood have to do with Madonna? Is Rush still hooked on the Say A Prayer phase of the Vogueing One’s career?

Meanwhile, deep in the heart of South Alabama, Ricky Malcolm Smith and his friends down at the Eveleene County Line Texaco were asked what they thought of this development. Smith, who has a tattoo down the side of his neck that resembles Madonna but says “Mom,” was quick to offer his opinion:

“The only Rushes we care about are that Limbaugh fella on the radio and the feeling you get when open up a new can of Skoal. This London fella might better stay away from Eveleene County. We don’t take kindly to this sort of, whaddya call it, artsy-fartsy stuff, ’specially when people are ripping up the Bible.

“Molly Hatchet’s playing at the County Fair this week,” Smith added as he pulled a wrench out of his pocket and walked toward a rebuilt engine from a ‘69 Chevy, “Frank Costello did a mural on the side of his van from that one record and it looks real pretty. Nobody cutting up the good book, either”.

Madonna - Lucky Star

Molly Hatchett - Gator Country

My son explained to us at dinner last night that, when he hears the expression “over the hill,” he thinks of a bear standing on the top of a grassy knoll, looking over the hill at “old people, over 50″.

And all that he could see, and all that he could see…was the other side of the mountain…and a sea of old people.

He’ll be thoroughly embarrassed when he sees my new video.

From the newswire, released just hours ago:

AARP, the world’s largest advocacy organization for the 50+ community [and largest advertising beneficiaries of Rogaine and Viagra marketing], today announced it is teaming up with the legendary band [and unabashed sell-outs] Foreigner to launch “Air Guitar for My Guitar,” an air guitar and lip-sync competition in conjunction with AARP’s [can you believe it] sponsorship of Foreigner’s “Feels Like the First Time Tour.” The competition, tour and other musical collaborations are part of AARP’s year-long 50th anniversary celebration [and Foreigner's grasp of the fact that their music is being illegally downloaded by the boatload on an hourly basis].

“At AARP, we always try to connect with our members in fun and exciting [and potentially illegal and embarrassing ways] ways, and this air guitar contest certainly fits the bill [though we're sure all that spandex won't]” said Emilio Pardo, EVP and Chief Brand Officer, AARP. “This is a great opportunity for our members and their families to unleash their inner rock star [dress in drag and come out of the closet] and celebrate our 50th anniversary with us in style!”

Competitors in the “Air Guitar for My Guitar” contest will vie for the chance to win Mick Jones’ autographed custom Gibson guitar, [huge quantities of groupie sex] and a trip to Honolulu, Hawaii to party [flatulent, flabby and naked] with the band on New Years Eve.

“We cannot wait to watch [and belly laugh and possibly get erotically excited at] the videos,” said Mick Jones, lead guitarist and founder of Foreigner. “I’m sure that we’re going to see some fantastic air guitar players [and hopefully some naked housewives] who’ll look even better up there than some of us. It really is a [stupid..um, I mean, profitable and] great idea and we’re happy to help AARP celebrate their 50th [if we live that long].”

A constant fixture on radio and the charts since the late ’70s, Foreigner has sold more than 70 million albums worldwide [and are wishing they could cash on in the 70 million illegal downloads that happened this morning]. The band just released NO END IN SIGHT: THE VERY BEST OF FOREIGNER, a comprehensive hits collection that [we're hoping a few thousand Foreigner junkies will buy because it ]includes both live and previously unreleased tracks. [They're lame, of course, or we would have released them in the 70's when we could've made some dough]. The album is currently on the Billboard Top 200 chart and features their current hit single “Too Late.”

To participate, contestants must air guitar/lip-sync to one of five Foreigner hit songs:

  -- "Too Late"
  -- "Cold as Ice"
  -- "Hot Blooded"
  -- "Juke Box Hero"
  -- "Feels Like the First Time"

Contestants must then submit their video recorded entries on Win Mick Jones Guitar. Contestants can also [embarrass themselves and] enter in person at a mobile recording studio at select Foreigner concert dates and the AARP Life@50+ member event.

[For those of you who were part of a religious cult during the 70's and 80's and weren't allowed to listen to the radio]

About Foreigner

Throughout the 70’s and 80’s, Foreigner was universally hailed [and often derided] as one of the most popular [and predictable] rock acts in the world, racking up scores of smash hits, multi-platinum albums, and sold out concert tours. From “Cold As Ice” to “Hot Blooded,” “Urgent” to “Jukebox Hero,” “Waiting For A Girl Like You” to the chart topper “I Want To Know What Love is”, Foreigner’s thrilling mix of blustery blues and impeccably crafted pop continues to captivate generation after generation of music fans [and inspire "scores" of PR flak hyperbole]. Today, 30 years later, Foreigner is an ensemble of talented musicians [that means: NOT THE ORIGINAL BAND] each adding their individual credentials to the mix to make the band stronger and more powerful than ever [we're kind of embarrassed about all this but time hasn't made us any better looking and girls still dig money and rock stars, in that order].

Get practicing:

Foreigner - Hot Blooded

I have a folder full of music on my network that I’ve yet to integrate into the master drive. The MASTER DRIVE is where all the MP3s I own live together in a way that I only wish people could co-exist. You know: really bad Top 40 songs hanging out with Sonic Youth; honkies and niggers and chinks and spics all digging it together in the tall grass, sun shining, everybody happy.

These songs in ERRANT FOLDER #90026 07.24.08 are still waiting for integration, like Muslims arriving in America after 9/11, except songs can be integrated with the push of the button and racism is overturned at a glacial pace. We’ll live in hope.

Within ERRANT FOLDER #90026 07.24.08 there are sub-holders holding the Watson Twins, James Hunter, John Mellencamp and Sarah Vaughan and, like Prince Albert in A Can, they’ll need to be let out. Then there are 1509 orphans.

Sort by song and you get “40″ by U2 at one end and Zydeco Clowns On The Lam by John Ellis at the other end. I recorded “40″ from a cassette tape of War and I downloaded John Ellis from eMusic.

Sort by time and I found this: at one end, the introduction to Leon Russell’s Carny album, clocking at a well-worth-listening-to 45 seconds. I wouldn’t go so far as to say “I’m an enigma” because it sounds rather haughty. But I have enigmatic tastes and I think weirdness should be promoted along with sanity (and, hopefully, the two will marry and come out somewhere reasonably left of Ronald Reagan). This song does the job.

Not surprisingly, the other end of the long-and-short spectrum gives us the Grateful Dead. The Dead are good for traffic so let me mention them again, this time with a link: GRATEFUL DEAD!

I never saw a Dead show though I know people who have (and try to cover their weirdness with sweaters from Patagonia). But, I get the vibe thanks to the way they did their deal, letting people tape them all along. The Dead lived by the new music business model long before anyone else…and you never REALLY own it anyway, do you?

ERRANT FOLDER 90026 07.24.08 thanks you.

Leon Russell - Carny

Grateful Dead - Dark Star/China Cat Sunflower

I have to ask you: is there anyone out there who doesn’t dig James Hunter?

Sure, he’s singing straight from the Sam Cooke/Ray Charles Hymnal of Southern Soul (with a touch of Jimmy Scott and Van Morrison) but who cares? The cat does it so well.

Analog recording, horns deep in the mix, background vocs with character to spare, strings plucked when needed, love and heartbreak intertwined, life as we know it.

There are hints of all those soulful influences (and more) but, in the end, it never sounds like anyone but Hunter himself.

My favorite, the one that got played all day today:

James Hunter - Jacqueline

When I was in high school, I had a crush on this girl named Diana. Actually, the crush started well before high school but, for our purposes here, we’ll isolate it to the few years when I thought about her every hour (and not just every day).

Diana was about 5 feet tall, had straight blond and big blue eyes, made even bigger with copious amounts of mascara. She was a prodigious flirt and fit quite a nice figure into that small package. As testified to by the way she drew the boys walking behind her between classes, she was one of the few girls in grade ten who moved as much from side to side when she walked as she did from front to back.

What made this all the more punishing than your average schoolboy crush was that Diana could sing. Like a songbird. In fact, Songbird and just about every other Fleetwood Mac tune from Rumors were at the top of her repertoire back in 1977.

I already had a mildly intense enthusiasm for Stevie Nicks; having a reasonable facsimile cooing at you in between choir rehearsals was such an breath-taking experience that, even now, it leaves me a little rattled.

My schoolboy crush on Diana went unrequited. I can’t say today that I regret it; had it been a consumated relationship, it wouldn’t be quite so fun for my memory.

High school came and went and do did Diana. She went on to sing in a rock band, marry a cop, divorce same and who knows what. I went on to college and carried my Stevie Nicks passion on for many years. To this day, up in Mom’s attic, with the 2000 records I swear will someday get delivered cross country, are two framed Stevie posters. One of them is a promotional poster for the Wild Heart; the other is what I understand to be a fairly rare copy of the poster above — from her HBO special.

This week marks the anniversary of her Bella Donna…and still more unrequited love for the Music Junkie.

Stevie Nicks - Stop Draggin’ My Heart Around

It’s the end of the month and, frankly, I’m a little burnt out. There are just a few weeks remaining before fall baseball and soccer practices start again and just a few more weeks more until the kids go back to school.

My daughter starts kindergarten this year, my boys are growing fast, I’m getting old and I miss them already. Just a few of the factors that explain why I’m vamping right now instead of writing something about music. But, alas, I cannot think (to paraphrase Laura Marling).

Having said that, Fusion 45 broke the 3,000 visitor mark this month and I owe it all to YOU and the nice people of the community who have supported me with their links. They are the FRIENDS OF F45 you see listed to the right and I THANK THEM. This is not gratuitous reciprocity, though; these are some the best writers in the music spheres and to them I pay hommage and frommage.

A Deeper Shade of Soul - I wish Ben would post more frequently; the quality of his work is that good. But, even if he writes every few weeks, I read and am grateful. And, as he notes in a recent post, he’s available for work. Check out the scope of what he does and get in touch.

AM Then FM - My wife and I passed on seeing Peter Frampton as he came through town a few weeks ago. Sadly, as I’m just four months into running my own business, $70 for a pair of tickets was just not in my budget. But, Jeff over at AM Then FM is flush and he reports on Pete’s show at the Outagamie County Fair.

Any Major Dude - He produces an amazing amount of content at a very high level of quality. I never go there that I don’t find something new to get excited about (Jay Brannan) or old to smile upon (1980 Albums of The Year)

Armagideon Time - My favorite quote of the month, from his vacation post entitled Objectivist Hygiene: “Ideological purity is no substitute for a can of Ajax and some elbow grease”.

Art Decade - The latest post on includes a picture of the Montreux Casino. I just happened to be expounding on the pure pop merits of Smoke On The Water at the dinner table the other day. My kids were fascinated. An economy of words and great pictures makes it a great visit.

Bag of Songs - One of F45’s newest friends, Bag is the place for newer than new music interspersed with great theme sets that will include Jimi Hendrix and The Shangri-Las in the same set. I dig that. Reach into the bag.

Bleedin’ Out - J’ever meet people who are totally unlike you but became your friends because they just reached out and did something cool? Nazz over at Bleedin’ Out is did that. Little ‘ole Carpenters-lovin’ Fusion 45 gets a link from a pink punk site. Nice. (OK…so I like a few Ramones songs….and Social Distortion.)

Bob Brainen - OK, so Bob doesn’t have a link to my page posted anywhere (that I know of, anyway) but he wrote me a nice email and he does a really cool show on WFMU. And he’s been doing it for something like 57 years or something. They didn’t have turntables when he started. People held pins in one hand and spun the records with the other.

DJ NYC - I like to visit DJ NYC’s site because he has a cool photo gizmo on his site, posts pictures of dear old NYC for me to reminisce by and, when I look at his pictures, I think of the New York Times society page.

Echoes In The Wind - Dude’s a music blogging legend. Writes in-depth articles all the time, comes around to comment, recently posted a zip of Darden Smith’s Trouble No More record. Salud!

Elsebasto - Seems to have drifted off but people keep coming though his/her site. Some great music posted, too. Would like to see him/her back in action.

Fufu Stew - If you did funk, you dig FuFu. ‘Nuff said.

Next month, I’ll pay homage (or maybe even frommage) to the other half of the alphabet.

Went on a music binge at last night to beat my monthly expiration date. (They’ve been nice about crediting me when I miss the mark but, even so, I wish they would quit the whole expiration thing…music ain’t milk.) Bought James Hunter and The Watson Twins. I know a lot of people are this digging this song:

The Watson Twins - How Am I To Be?

For a town inhabited by just 2,000 people and covering just 4 square miles, Watkins Glen, NY is a pretty famous place.

Winos (and their hygienically advanced brethren, wine connoisseurs) know the wineries that surround the Glen produce some of the best wine to ever say ‘hello’ to a cork. Fans of fast cars and loud noises know that the Watkins Glen International Raceway was where Mario Andretti became the first American to win the U.S. Grand Prix in 1977.

And rock and roll fans know that the biggest rock and roll concert in history — Summer Jam At Watkins Glen — started 35 years ago today at the very same spot.

I grew up just 15 miles south of the Glen, in the big city of Elmira, so even though I was just 10 years old at the time, I remember Summer Jam vividly.

I remember clearly the photos of the concert splashed across the front page of the Elmira Star-Gazette, the local newspaper where my father worked*.

I remember the thousands of cars parked along route 17, the “flower children” hitching up route 14, the micro-buses full of people, like hippie clown cars at a circus, the young cats in bell-bottoms flashing peace signs at us at the local convenience store.

The older sister of my best friend worked at the screen printing shop that made the concert posters and t-shirts. I don’t need to Google the concert to remember it was the Band, the Dead and the Allman Brothers who were playing. I remember her wearing that shirt for years afterward.

Musically, the Dead and such could’ve been Eastern European death metal for all I knew; I was into Top 40 and that’s about as far as I went. But, culturally, I remember a being fascinated by the whole scene. Though they didn’t go to the concert, my sister and brother were 19 and 22 at the time; I’d seen a lot of hippies pass through my life already.

To see 600,000 of them all in a row, though, now that was something.

Grateful Dead - Watkins Glen Soundcheck

Photo Source: Grant Gouldon’s Flickr page

*I don’t see anything today on the home page of what Dad used to call “the Starry Eyed Gazootsky,” but there is an important report on the annual pirogi festival at St. Nick’s Church. Joe Stanky And The Cadets were the headliners!.

It’s a spectacular summer day in the Pacific Northwest of Americana, the kind of day we bottle and keep on our desks to look at and long for in January. The kind of day we don’t like to talk about with out-of-towners, lest they decide to move here. “Oh no,” we say, “it rains here year round”. Truth is, it’s 80-some degrees, not a cloud in the sky, not a humidity in the air, a slight breeze a-blowing. Back up your bags, Glasgow. Gas up the Edsel, Wisconsin. Washington’s the place to be today.

Not much on my mind, otherwise, just rambling about the hard drive listening to some music. Here are 6 tunes, semi-at-random.

Darden Smith - Frankie And Sue

WhiteRay at Echoes in The Wind was kind enough to drop a zip of Darden’s Trouble No More album onto his site (and I scooped it up in a heartbeat). If you’ve never heard Darden, this (or anything else he’s done) is a great place to start. Reminds me of young romance: I first heard this on WICB-FM when my wife and I were living in Ithaca, NY, young love growing among the fall colors of the northeast.

Dion - I Wonder Why

When I was 10 years old or so, baseball ruled the summer — morning, noon and night. In between games, we would gather in whichever house had a Mom bearing the patience for a group of pre-teen boys and ‘play records’. That was the euphemism we had for our air-guitar, sing-a-long, wishing we were rock star sessions. One of us had an older sister with a 45 collection that included this one, which I still love. And it actually mixes nice with Frankie and Sue.

Delbert And Glen - California Livin’

I was standing in the Los Angeles airport one evening, waiting for my wife and kids to arrive, when I looked to my left and saw one of the stunning girls I’d ever seen.

I’ve never been much for the construction-worker-gawk-and-stare method of girl watching; I try to be a bit more subtle but this girl was breaking my concentration. She was perfect in every way; there were no flaws. And, as you might imagine, the fact that I kept glancing at her caused her absolutely no distraction; she remained perfectly focused on standing there being beautiful.

Before my wife and kids arrived, what I presumed was her boyfriend came up to her, kissed her on the cheek and they walked off arm-in-arm. I still haven’t caught my breath.

There are two kinds of California: this song is about the other one.

Fabienne Du Sol - Vilaines Filles Mauvais Garcons

Ever since Britt Eklund recited the Hoboken, NJ phone book for Rod Stewart, I’ve been a fan of French pop. Don’t speak the language, know nothing about this woman, have no idea what she’s saying or how she got on my computer. But, I’m almost sure a 19-year old French girl in a 1960’s style bikini is going to surface in my hot tub any minute.

Del Shannon - Runaway

The song that launched a thousand rock stars, this was one of those 45’s we listened to all summer long. What makes this record so universally loved and for so long? Must be the Farfisa!

Leo Kottke - Pamela Brown

Did I mention this story once before?

When I was in 7th grade, I met this girl named Laura. I thought she was terrific and she seemed to think the same in return. I guess she wanted to be my girlfriend but, since I was a complete dork who knew more about the New York Mets batting order than girls, I missed the signals (which were apparently printed in the Broadway Junior High School newsletter). Her interest lasted for about 12 minutes: she went on to be a cheerleader, long-time girlfriend to the captain of the football team and, ultimately a Duke University educated lawyer. This song (and Black Water by the Doobie Brothers) reminds me of her. I don’t know why.

Not getting out as much as I’d like. That is, I haven’t been visiting the Friends of Fusion 45 as regularly as I was for awhile. (This working for a living thing definitely cuts into your leisure time. Hello? Washington lottery?)

I did drop by to visit my friend, Jeff, at AM Then FM, who holds the mark for the fastest comment on record: it was a feat of skill he performed last night by commenting on Bobbie Gentry about 8 seconds after the post was published.

Not nearly as quick am I but I wanted to throw him a kudo in the form of New York City’s classic disco-baby, I’m Doin’ Fine Now, which I note he doesn’t have in his collection.

If I were a football fan, I’d comment on the Brett Favre thing-a-ma-bob…but, truth be told, I stopped watching football after Carl Eller retired.

New York City - I’m Doin’ Fine Now

PS: As an added bonus, here’s a picture of Linda Ronstadt in a cub scout uniform. I’ve heard her quoted as saying she’ll never sing rock and roll again. But, I think she still slinks into that uniform every now and then and rips open a quick Buddy Holly tune.

My second son turned 8-years old this past weekend.

For his celebration, he chose to go to a Portland Beavers baseball game, preceded by a pizza dinner, some splashing in a big fountain at a nearby park and a trip to the Portland Classical Chinese Garden. (I think that’s totally cool.)

The Chinese Garden is one of the most beautiful places in all of Portland. In the late 1980’s, when the city became a sister city to Suzhou, China, the idea of building a “scholar’s garden” in Portland started to take root. It took another 20 years and $12 million dollars but finally the project was completed in 2000 on a site in the Chinatown neighborhood that was formerly a parking lot.

Remarkably, Portland is also home to the Portland Japanese Garden, as well. The Japanese garden is even more spectacular, set on 5 acres on the west hill overlooking the city.

It was a beautiful, sunny, breezy day spent walking hand-in-hand with my newly minted 8-year old.

If you’re ever in town, well, we recommend both…and pizza!

Steely Dan - Aja

Before and aft of Willie Nelson on my iPod are Willie Mabon and Wille Nix.

Mabon was the more famous of the two. He recorded the original version of I Don’t Know, made famous later by the Blues Brothers. Mabon’s version was a huge hit for Checker Records in 1952, helped usher in the era of rock and roll on Alan Freed’s early radio shows and was covered by another famed white-guy, Tennessee Ernie Ford. The Belushi version is probably better known to my generation, though, if nothing else than for his treatment of the lyric: “If it’s women that kill me, I don’t mind dying”.

Nix was an itinerant tap dancer and vaudevillian before he taught himself drums and played about the south with the likes of B.B. King and Sonny Boy Williamson. He never stayed in one place long enough to make a lot of records but this recording, from The Chess Story, is still readily available. The version recorded by Big Bill Broonzy is thought to have been a big influence on Led Zeppelin.

Willie Mabon - I Don’t Know

Willie Nix - Truckin’ Little Woman

COMMIT WITH CASH: The Chess Story

There’s a touch of melancholy in the air today. Do you feel it or is it just my office where it’s settled? Too much work. Not enough play. Things seem to be slipping away. (Wait…I’m writing poetry!)

Willie Nelson helps that. I’ve been spending some time with his new album, Moment Of Forever. It has a fun and funky version of Gotta Serve Somebody, a very strange song about a pirate and this one, which lifts the melancholy a bit.

Willie Nelson - Always Now

Photo Credit: This pic was taken by Jason DeCrow for the Associated Press and borrowed from the Austin American-Statesman newspaper. For those of you unfamiliar with the term, a newspaper is the thing you use to brush the crumbs off your table at Starbucks, so they don’t gum up your laptop while you’re reading Google news.

In conversation with Ruthie yesterday, Aretha’s name came up a couple of times. Obviously, it was about the voice but it was also about her approach to the piano.

Whilst hanging out in the living room playing this crazy pirate board game with the wife and family (and fielding the unfortunate dismay of my 10-year old, who was losing badly), this one came on. Not really a piano tune, but it presented itself in the shuffle.

Ruthie on the phone yesterday; Aretha on the stereo tonight. It’s all connected (though I’m fishing for a connection to the pirate game).

Aretha Franklin - Sparkle

Amidst a day that was way too busy, I got the spend a half-hour on the phone with my Singer of The Year, Ruthie Foster, talking about what goes into being the (truly) Phenomenal Ruthie Foster. I’ll have the full interview here in the the days to come. In the meantime, here’s the funkiest of the Phenomenal cuts.

Ruthie Foster - Heal Yourself

Go Ye To Amazon. Maketh Thou Commitment With Fundage

Another round of shots from the blues festival, with Mr. A.C. Reed providing the soundtrack:

A.C. Reed - These Blues Is Killin’ Me

Everybody Needs Their Kit - The Tools of Hillstomper Henry C. Kammerer

The Hillstomper HCK

The Phenomenal Ruthie Foster

Laura Marling

The folks at Amazon will be happy to know their “others who bought” gizmo, which I’ve dutifully ignored since its invention, actually sold a record. I think I was looking up Terra Naomi when I discovered Laura Marling. I had no idea, until I got an inbound link from Cardboard X Sea, that Marling is something like 15 years old. That makes the way she sings “bullshit” on this cut all that more charming. I’ll be digging the full album in a future post but, for the meantime, this tune is exquisite. I wish I was this witty and charming when I was 15; as I recall, I was just stupid and horny.

Laura Marling - The Captain And Hourglass

BTW: If I’m reading Cardboard X Sea’s blog correctly, she is both a fan of Fusion 45 and a lesbian. I’m in favor of both of these things and am totally revved by the fact that F45 might just be hip with the young gay crowd. Seriously, how cool is that?

WNEW

My 30-day long career with WNEW is humming along beautifully. This week, I’ve posted reviews of some young guns I saw at the Waterfront Blues Festival in Portland, including Chris Ardoin and Nu Step and the seriously amazing Ruthie Foster. They also posted a nice profile of F45 under their Best Music Blogs category. Cool!

Hype Machine

Major league props to Zoya and the crew at Hype Machine for adding me to their list. No small thanks to Chris at Local Vertical for helping navigate that process. Unlike Cardboard X Sea, he’s not a hip young lesbian; rather, he’s a rocket scientist. Together, they will make for interesting table conversation at the First Annual Fusion 45 Music Dig and Tofu Festival, scheduled for summer of 2015.

Others Who Serve

Bruce who doesn’t have a website but sends me scoops on cool music just the same.

The brilliant IB, whose new site SibLINGSHOT ON THE BLEACHERS is at once beautiful, artistic, insightful and completely confusing. That’s how I know he’s brilliant.

UPDATE [7/10/08] These photos have been archived. Please click here to see them.

Some more shots of the blues festival, with a little Elvin Bishop to keep you rockin’…

Elvin Bishop - Fannie Mae

I’m pretty ambivalent about rap music. I’m not an ultra-conservative flame-thrower who curses it as the soundtrack to the fall of the western world. Neither am I a red-capped revolutionary who sees it as the voice of social revolution.

I see there are two sides to the rap story. I see there’s plenty of misogynistic, vulgar rap music being made (’cuz it seems to be all over the TV) and I’m not all that enthusiastic about it. I know also there’s a fair amount of positive rap music being made, intended to unite and equalize rather that fracture and dominate. (I should also mention there’s plenty of so-called “white” music that can be qualified in one of these two ways.)

Summarily, my relationship to rap is thus: I like (or, should I say, I understand) some of it and misunderstand most of it. I take each artist and/or song individually; either I can relate or I can’t. (I don’t relate to death metal, either, again making the point that none of this really has anything to do with race).

All this serves to set the table for an excellent article that appeared in The Economist’s June 28th-July 4th edition. Whenever someone writes something thoughtful I’m first in awe, second in jealousy and third enthusiastic to share the wealth.

Take a click over the The Economist and read The Politics of Rap. Then come back and listen to Gil Scott-Heron, who probably speaks more articulately about this than the majority of us.

Gil Scott-Heron - Message To The Messengers

UPDATE [7/10/08] These photos have been archived. Please click here to see them.

One of the nation’s largest blues festivals, Portland’s Waterfront Blues Festival, kicked off yesterday with some great music. From local faves Norman Sylvester and Liv Warfield to international heavies like Joe Bonamassa and Isaac Hayes, day 1 was a groove. Check out some photos below while listening to a young cat who’s got it going on: Troy “Trombone Shorty” Andrews.

Trombone Shorty - Orleans And Claiborne