Wednesday, March 28, 2012

Bye Bye Ding Dong Daddy


Jerry McCain
Rest In Peace

Jerry "Boogie" McCain, a Gadsden native who gained international acclaim as a prolific singer/songwriter and harmonica player, died today. He was 81." ... Story continues here: Legendary Bluesman Jerry "Boogie" McCain Dies (The Gadsden Times)

Monday, March 26, 2012

Quote Of The Week

"I think we are well advised to keep on nodding terms with the people we used to be, whether we find them attractive company or not. Otherwise they turn up unannounced and surprise us, come hammering on the mind's door at 4 a.m. of a bad night and demand to know who deserted them, who betrayed them, who is going to make amends."

Thursday, March 22, 2012

45 Revolutions: The Little Roosters


"When Joe Strummer went to see The Little Roosters play at the Hope And Anchor in Islington, North London in 1979 it turned out thankfully to be on an evening of one of the band's most legendary and highly charged raucous barroom gigs ever." -James Duggon

The Little Roosters were founded and fronted by Gary Lammin, shortly after the break-up of his first legendary group, Cock Sparrer. (Steve Burgess and Steve Bruce of Sparrer were also to join the Roosters after the group's debut 45 on Pye in 1979.) The Roosters' excellent pub-rock meets glam-rock debut LP was released in France by Polydor in 1981, and was produced by super-fan Joe Strummer, who also plays piano on the LP. Legend has it that Strummer was paid for his production in dental work, rather than cash. 1981's "People Break Down" was the group's fourth, and final single.

( Bonus download: "I Need A Witness" * )

* From The Little Roosters' second 45 (Ami Records, 1980),
originally recorded and released by Cock Sparrer in 1978.

Tuesday, March 20, 2012

Quote Of The Week

"I refuse to be told what to think, or how, let alone what to say or write. But certainly not by people who claim the authority of fabricated works of primeval myth and fiction, and want me to believe that these are divine. That I won't have. That's the original repudiation. The first rebellion against mental slavery comes from saying, this is man-made, it's not divine."

Monday, March 19, 2012

50 Years Ago Today...


Bob Dylan LP (Columbia 8579)
Released March 19th, 1962

Ramblin’ outa the wild West
Leavin’ the towns I love the best
Thought I’d seen some ups and downs
’Til I come into New York town
People goin’ down to the ground
Buildings goin’ up to the sky

Wintertime in New York town
The wind blowin’ snow around
Walk around with nowhere to go
Somebody could freeze right to the bone
I froze right to the bone
New York Times said it was the coldest winter in seventeen years
I didn’t feel so cold then

I swung onto my old guitar
Grabbed hold of a subway car
And after a rocking, reeling, rolling ride
I landed up on the downtown side
Greenwich Village

I walked down there and ended up
In one of them coffee-houses on the block
Got on the stage to sing and play
Man there said, “Come back some other day
You sound like a hillbilly
We want folk singers here”

Well, I got a harmonica job, begun to play
Blowin’ my lungs out for a dollar a day
I blowed inside out and upside down
The man there said he loved m’ sound
He was ravin’ about how he loved m’ sound
Dollar a day’s worth

And after weeks and weeks of hangin’ around
I finally got a job in New York town
In a bigger place, bigger money too
Even joined the union and paid m’ dues

Now, a very great man once said
That some people rob you with a fountain pen
It didn’t take too long to find out
Just what he was talkin’ about
A lot of people don’t have much food on their table
But they got a lot of forks ’n’ knives
And they gotta cut somethin’

So one mornin’ when the sun was warm
I rambled out of New York town
Pulled my cap down over my eyes
And headed out for the western skies
So long, New York
Howdy, East Orange


"Talkin' New York" lyrics by Bob Dylan. Copyright © 1962, 1965
by Duchess Music Corporation; renewed 1990, 1993 by MCA

Saturday, March 17, 2012

"I Drink Because I'm Thirsty"


"I'm just following the Irish tradition of songwriting,
the Irish way of life, the human way of life. Cram as much
pleasure into life, and rail against the pain you have to suffer as
a result. Or scream and rant with the pain, and wait for it to
be taken away with beautiful pleasure..."

Thursday, March 15, 2012

When I Paint My Masterpiece





"In the graffiti underground, Piece Books — or sketch books —have been a secret weapon for the mysterious artists who pioneered the culture back in 1970s New York."

Wednesday, March 14, 2012

Teenage Heart



Bruce Roehrs
Rest In Peace

Two years ago today, the world lost one of the truly great, unbridled rock'n'roll enthusiasts... You are still missed, Bruce.

Monday, March 12, 2012

Quote Of The Week

"We are weighed down, every moment, by the conception and the sensation of Time. And there are but two means of escaping and forgetting this nightmare: pleasure and work. Pleasure consumes us. Work strengthens us. Let us choose."

Wednesday, March 7, 2012

Faces Come Out Of The Rain


"The papers were always talking about the debt owed to society. According to them, it had to be paid. But that doesn't speak to the imagination. What really counted was the possibility of escape, a leap to freedom, out of the implacable ritual, a wild run for it that would give whatever chance for hope there was. Of course, hope meant being cut down on some street corner, as you ran like mad, by a random bullet. But when I really thought it through, nothing was going to allow me such a luxury. Everything was against it; I would just be caught up in the machinery again."

From The Stranger, 1942

Monday, March 5, 2012

Quote Of The Week

"Do you really think it is weakness that yields to temptation? I tell you that there are terrible temptations which it requires strength, strength and courage to yield to."

Friday, March 2, 2012

Exile On 116th Street

Matt was a local legend; a real borough hero.

One winter night in the mid-'80s, Matt ranted for what seemed like an eternity about "commies," while letting cigarettes burn out on his arms in an effort to show that he was prepared for what he called "the coming fight." On that same cold, blustery night, using just one hand — and then a few fingers — he hung his body off the local esplanade. Again, all to show his resolve; he could care less about the bumper-to-bumper traffic below. Or perhaps he didn't notice it.

Matt's best friend Eddie lived uptown, and Eddie ruined Matt's life.

© 2012 Lee Greenfeld