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  • 112. I’d Hate To Look Into Those Eyes and See an Ounce of Pain

    I don’t remember where we were, but we were outside.  Night, cars, a parking lot.  Lee G and I were coming or going, likely from the Dawg, The Nu-Way, or George’s, the three main places for live music in Spartanburg.  Maybe we just polished off a club sandwich at Simple Simon or a baklava at…

  • From the Stacks: Kid Sheik Cola – Sheik’s Swingsters

    This is a treasure I picked up at Uncle Murray’s record sale purely for the cover art.  I mean, come on!  Who doesn’t want to know what that’s all about?  But man, what a score this turned out to be.

  • The (Kind Of) Complete Woodstock: Jefferson Airplane

    “All right friends, you have seen the heavy groups, now you will see morning maniac music. Believe me,  yeah.  It’s the new dawn.” It’s eight a.m. Sunday morning when Grace Slick awakens the crowd from their short nap.  Only two hours ago The Who cleared the stage.  Wavy Gravy’s Hog Farm is still struggling to…

  • From the Stacks: Klaatu – 3:47 EST / Self-Titled

    The Beatles broke up in 1970, and we spent the rest of the decade in denial:  They’re getting back together, it’s just a matter of time.  Wings isn’t so bad, and neither is ELO. Ringo’s new album is pretty good. Even the slightest hint of a Beatle’s reunion was buzzworthy.  This was the climate in…

  • Why It Matters to Bernie Worrell

    My love for all things Funkadelic knows no bounds.  Call it what you want — Parliament, P-Funk, Funkadelic, George Clinton, Bootsy’s Rubber Band, Dr. Woo, it doesn’t matter.  If it’s on the one I’m there. So I just about peed myself and blew a snot bubble when Bernie Worrell, P-Funk founding member and the baddest…

  • Deep Cuts: My Playlist Wants To Kill Your Mama

    Putting together a playlist of songs about moms isn’t very difficult.  In fact, you could make a playlist of songs named “Mama” without ever resorting to “She’s A Bad Mama Jama.” But anyway, moms loomed large – or at least one did — in this week’s piece, so you’re getting a playlist of mom songs…

  • 111. What’s It Gonna Be, Boy?

    I took up with a girl named Christie that summer.  We’d gone to school together since the seventh grade but never spoken to each other.  I thought that she was an Untouchable and I doubt that she thought of me at all.

  • From the Stacks: Le Pamplemousse

    I picked this quality product up at Uncle Murray’s record sale for no other reason than I thought the “creepy guy airbrushed van” cover was “From the Stacks” worthy.  Inside was a pretty cruddy disco album, but honestly I think all disco albums are pretty cruddy so I’m not the best judge of these things.…

  • The (Kind Of) Complete Woodstock: The Who

    The Who’s Woodstock performance scared the hell out of me as a kid.  Part of it was the ominous tone with which announcer Chip Monck intoned “The Who.”  Pete’s Clockwork Orange duds didn’t help much, either, even if they predated Kubrick’s film.  Hey, I didn’t know that — I was a kid.

  • One From My Vacation Home

    I’m enjoying my guest space over at Maudlin Patch quite a bit.  It’s nice to get off the WIM leash and do something a little different.