Every once in a while, it is necessary to obsess about a song. And so I have come here to confess that Ray Price’s 1963 recording of “Night Life” is so extraordinary as to be out of time, a singular […]
Every once in a while, it is necessary to obsess about a song. And so I have come here to confess that Ray Price’s 1963 recording of “Night Life” is so extraordinary as to be out of time, a singular […]
Been gone so long the buttons have changed. That figures. Something new to learn that I haven’t time for. That is, perhaps, the definition of our present age. Not my point. Every year since about 1987 I have compiled a […]
Obligatory self-promotion, with a hat-tip to my friends here who suggested songs for this one. The fine folks at WMKY (Morehead State Public Radio) suggested I should put together an hour of music about Thanksgiving. And so I did. What […]
Perhaps, like me, you are given to roaming the aisles of your local independent bookstore and stumbled upon Nashville Chrome, the latest novel by Rick Bass which is both about and not at all about The Browns. The cover looks […]
At one point, Philadelphia’s G. Love along with, perhaps, Chris Thomas King, bore the weight of the recording industry’s dim hopes that blues might be resuscitated and sold to a younger, possibly even urban audience. He found his way to […]
happens to oblige, quite by coincidence. My regular monthly one-hour foray into public radio is scheduled for the last Friday of every month. This time, it got moved for the pledge drive. And so it airs this Friday on WMKY […]
Back when I had a punk rock/folk art/west coast cartoon surrealist art gallery, and AOL was new and groovy, I spent some time in an alternative rock folder. My intent was to see if attending to the conversation in this […]
See, the thing is, I love a good shaggy dog story. I used to have a small repertoire suitable for sharing over a pitcher or two, right up until the night I was thrown out of Linda’s up on Capitol […]
In the late 1990s I would have bet something in the low three figures that Jesse Dayton would some day adorn the cover of our little magazine. Now, I recognize that theoretically I was in a position to fix that […]
In the spring of 1973 my father — then and now an eminent historian specializing in the economic history of the Portuguese empire — and I retreated to a small patch of land on Whidbey Island to cut a little […]
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