My fingers feel all pulpy after recording yesterday and practicing with Shannon and Emily tonight. We got one and 3/4 songs into some semblance of an order. Still no lyrics for the first--but then it's a basic 12-bar blues in E that I taught them.

Eventually if this (or any rock and roll project I have) happens, I will need:

To learn power chords
To learn all the good minor chords
A decent guitar
A decent amp
Pedals! And learn how to use them.
Mic and boom stand
Digital 4-track recording system.

I've still got to re-record the songs I did yesterday, but my fingers feel too sore right now and we're practicing again at 7:30pm tomorrow. Hopefully between now and then I can get that down. I've also got to research that pesky second chord in the doo-wop progression. If a song's in the key of A, it's something like a G-minor or A-minor before it goes to the D and then to the E. I used to know it (!), but for some reason it escaped me tonight. I annoy me sometimes.

Satan rules a 4-track

I was so happy with the demo songs I recorded today--until I popped the cassette into my stereo and hit 'play.'

I've never heard my own songs backwards before. Seriously creeped.


Greg from Get Hip exhibited a certain amount of interest in my musical endeavors this evening, both past and present. They seem like great people to be involved with. Hmmm...!!!

I danced my patootie off to the Ugly Beats. Got their new record, too.

I'm not getting out of my bed until at least 1pm tomorrow.

And when I do, it'll be to try again with the demonic 4-track and try to get my crap together for a rehearsal with Shannon and Emily in the evening.

Curiously, I have felt for years that I couldn't get a garage band off the ground. All of a sudden there seems to be a multitude of possibilities. This is very good indeed.

Record Party

Having woken up way too early--but for a good cause, I now sit inside on this cold, rainy day perusing, puttering, and playing with a portion of my own dusty, yet satisfying, belongings.

This morning after I got home, I pulled out my 78s and went through them. I knew I'd amassed a quite a few 78s from the King Records catalogue, but it's almost ridiculous when I go through them one by one.

I had to bid goodbye to one of my Cats and the Fiddle 78s; also a Chet Atkins one and a Johnny Maddox one. I refuse to face the fact that my Curt Barrett "Hey Bartender" has a hairline inner crac--especially as it's a great version and one of the older, cooler King Records label designs.


Today's 78 playlist:
Jack Cardwell on King Records
Jimmie Rodgers on Victor
Davis Sisters on RCA Victor
Roy Acuff on Columbia
Julia Lee on Capitol
Lucky Millinder on Decca
Joe Franklin on M-G-M
Slim Gaillard Trio on Cadet
Darrell Glenn & the Rhythm Riders on Valley
Joe Turner on Atlantic
Gene O'Quinn on Capitol (Promo of Boogie Woogie Fever and billed as Gene "O'Quin"!)
Little Jimmy Dickens on Columbia
Tommy Duncan on Intro
Lonnie Donegan on Mercury
the Melody Boys on Dixie
Cliffie, Merle, & Tennessee Ernie covering Delmore Brothers (on Capitol, of course)
Dinah Washington on Mercury
Johnny Bond on Columbia
Lefty Frizzell on Columbia
Curky Fox & Texas Ruby on King (Red Label)
Floyd Robinson on King (Red)
Little Willie John on King (Blue, of course)
Boyd Bennett & His Rockets on King (Blue Label)
York Brothers on King (Red Label)
Delmore Brothers on King (Red Label)

Today's 45 playlist:
Bennie Hess on Spade
Horton Brothers (for a giggle)
Umpteen European 45s given to me over the years that I haven't listened to yet
Skellett Trio on S-Bar-S
George Jones on Epic (HA! I love it)
Wanda Jackson (ummm, Capitol? heh)
Jack Scott on Carlton
Richie Valens on Del-Fi
Bernda Lee (Little Jonah) on Decca
Dave Dudley on Golden Wing
Barbara Lynn on Jamie
Charline Arthur on RCA Victor
The Cheers on Capitol
Nervous Norvus on Dot
Frankie Miller on Starday
Bonnie Guitar on Radio
Big Sandy & Los Straitjackets
The Hearts on Chess
George Riddle (Promo) on Starday
Don Cavalli on White Heat ('China Coast'/'Last Record Hop')
Link Wray (autographed by him AND his insane wife, Olive!)

Today I revel in rifling through my very own sneeze-inducing memorabilia that includes but is not limited to playing the above-mentioned records, reading my newly purchased copies of Punk, New York Rocker, and other 'zines from the 1970s and 80s. I will then start in on Ugly Things magazine (thanks, Steve!), and culminate appropritately with fuzzy slippers, hot tea and Banvard's Folly (again, thanks Steve!). I also found my "Parkside Varsity Cheerleaders" jacket that has "Caroline" embroidered on the front.

At some point today I will go over to Steve's and do all of this again, albeit in a slightly different capacity, such as with his sparkly company and partaking (in a ladylike manner) copious amounts of liquor.


Yay life!

Låtlista

I heretofore shall endeavor to learn the following on guitar, vocals, and possibly harmonica (just to annoy myself and everyone around me):


1) Just Like Me--Paul Revere & the Raiders
2) 99th Floor--Moving Sidewalks
3) In the Night Time--Strangeloves
4) I Can Only Give You Everything (MC5 and so on)
5) Rendevous--The Barracudas
6) The Sonics--Don't Be Afraid of the Dark
7) The Eccentrics--What You Got
8) Julie Driscoll--Don't Do It No More
9) The Coasters--I Must Be Dreaming

Hah. The majority of these will soooo never happen.

Dear Edwinn Starr and Otis Redding,

I think the world of you. You're both great singers. I appreciate all you have done for music over the years. How I would love to be able to sing "I've Been Loving You Too Long" and "War" with the intensity that you command.

However, I just don't think it's going to work out.


It's not you, it's me.

PS....I still love you, baby. I'll see you both on Friday.

Y'all havin' a good time tonight?

Little Richard asked that question on an average of every 117 seconds during the course of his "show" the other night. I have to say I wasn't expecting much,but he gave even less than that. Josh said they paid him like $50,000 to play.

Whatwas reinforced to me is that he's a 75-year-old eccentric whose primary concerns seem to be:

1) His glitter boots, from which KISS stole their look.
2) His songs, which were all stolen by other people. Apparently the fact that these were used without his permission entitled him not to play them. I'll bet Pat Boone would sing "Tutti Frutti" if he played a big show like that....
3) His sciatica.
4) Whether or not he was "pretty".
5) That his son's bass playing be shown to the world...so that the world may know that he plays lightning-quick riffs that bear more than a passing resemblance to the "Seinfeld" theme.
6) If people were video-taping him, because they so often end up on "You-Tube" without his permission. Apparently he lost thousands of dollars over the years from unauthorized videos, which is a sad thing. And of course that must be why he has to make up for it by earning $50,000.00 a pop, sitting in front of a piano and bitching about it in front of thousands of college kids, gleaming floodlights upon his besequined, oddly corpselike countenance.
7) The shiny grand piano in the middle of the stage piano wasn't to his liking, so he asked for another one and ended up on a wee electric piano. Hmm.

Now don't get me wrong, I love to hear me some Little Richard. I'm just going to make sure I never have to see him "in concert" again.

Poor guy--I sure hope the hoardes of $50,000.00 performance engagements make up for some of the pain he suffered while Pat Boone sang "Tutti Frutti."

Musicologizin'

Musicologizin': (v., adj.) A social situation that often occurs when people who love and/or make music develop a tendency toward apologizin', theorizin', guilty-pleasurin', disguisin', and often despisin'. Discussion of this topic frequently breeds hatred or indifference in non-musical individuals (who of course, hate...or are indifferent).

Note: The term "musically challenged" does not apply here. Anyone who likes music enough to read about it isn't musically challenged, no matter how crappy a pan flute player they may be.

Welcome to my music blog, where I shall pontificate.

Warning: I frequently pontificate needlessly, peevishly, or gushingly to the point where I use way more adjectives and adverbs than is healthy. I may talk about Rosemary Clooney, Mitch Miller, the Dixie Chicks, the Who, Wesley Willis, Dead Moon, Toots and the Maytals, or Bad Religion. I'll talk trash about Ike Turner's doity girfriend from Jersey, and about how ridiculously overrated John Brickman or John Mayer is (among scads of others).

I'll talk about stealing Dwight Yoakam's phone number or making dirty sex toys with the Pietasters, out of a carving knife and a common household potato. I'll kvetch about how annoying it is to write for music magazines and berate myself for not doing enough of it. I'll whine, scoff, or bitch about promoters and the industry, or my constant ebb and flow of efforts to make music a permanent (and money-making) part of my life.


Lucky you.