Misfits come in all shapes and sizes, at least Alton Ellis did. He was 6’4″ easy, though his clothes were 5’8″. He had a huge pimply nose in the middle of a […]
That little hill on the working class side of Denver may have been my first, but it was not my last.
Larry wasn’t the coolest kid in the neighborhood, but he owned the coolest bicycle.
I never pass up compilations of dirty (or druggy) blues and jazz songs.
David Bowie ended the 1970s in April 1983, drove a stake through their Angel Flight hearts like some sort of dance-friendly Van Helsing. Let’s Dance wasn’t Bowie’s first album in the decade—that […]
Dreams are perhaps second only to love as lyrics topics.
Last night I had one of those dreams that clarifies everything.
I have a little Facebook group where people share what they’re listening to at that very moment.
Rust is a great if a little hackneyed metaphor, so I’m surprised that I have so few “rust” songs in my stacks.
My first bicycle was dragged home by my father, a papa cat bringing his cub a wounded mouse to hunt.