My First Post on Groovin’ Grandfather
I am criminally late in posting to the new blogs that I have staked
out but left empty. It will be hard to type behind my back, in handcuffs, but
here goes my first posting on Groovin’
Grandfather…(Note: that is not Groovy.
That label will be up to others to apply. Or not).
A cousin whose musical tastes overlap mine to a large degree sent me a
text that referred me to artists who I was unfamiliar with. A decades old meme
of his has been “…the best music you never
heard of…”
These days, the challenge of sifting through the ever-growing pile of
chaff, in search of a slowly growing harvest of grain, has only gotten more
difficult. Mind you, I’m a dinosaur. I don’t knock other people’s musical diet,
but I’m allergic to a lot of the “new” music, so, for me, the chaff outstrips
the grain by a larger percentage every year.
Over the years, 75 of them if you must know, I’ve relied on various
musical gurus to turn me on to new sounds, but I no longer while away my
evenings listening to jams with them, so it is time to drag my “dried
up carcass” into this now already-teenaged-millennium and try to spark
suggestions and discussions with former and future gurus of sound.
Oh, Lordy! I see why I’ve put this off. Music is riddled with more
Rabbit Holes than any other field in this endlessly fascinating universe and
I’ve got a nose for such in any
category...Seems Dylan
covered Cocaine in 1962…This is
worse than I thought. I went to make sure “dried up carcass” came from the Cash
version of Cocaine Blues, the first one I recall hearing and got
sucked into this one, which isn’t Cash’ song at all, but Jackson
Browne’s Cocaine cover. YouTube’s
side bar then delivers a solo acoustic Mr.
Tambourine Man that was quite good (along with a million comments), even
though it lacks my favorite sound, the delicate guitar part behind his vocals.
Some say that was by a guitar player whose unique sound was due to playing with
firecrackers and coming up a few fingers short of a full hand…
My cousin texted this: Matthew
Sweet & Suzanna Hoff Bell Bottom
Blues. I like that song by Eric,
in spite of the syrupy lyrics and vocals, because Scotty Moore’s guitar
captured my 13-year-old heart and soul during Elvis’ Sun Session era, before
the second-biggest perpetrator of musical War Crimes* bought him and turned him
into a Lounge Lizard, B Movie actor and general disappointment to himself and
me.
*(Norman Petty was the worst ever! He should have gotten credit for
writing The
Day the Music Died, since his greed put Buddy on that plane. And he
should have not been given credit for
having anything to do with Buddy’s rapidly evolving music.)
Side-barred again…Oh, my! A pictorial of Patti Boyd behind Eric’s BBB.
Those two guitar heroes might have an ear for music, and an eye for beauty, but
they certainly didn’t have the ability to appreciate the complete package they
probably never completely unwrapped or else were just unable to control their
inner reptile.
Oops! I forgot! (Martin, S.) Matthew and
Suzanna are great as well. Looking forward to hearing more of their cover
albums, when I have more time.
A lot, pro and con, could be said about covers, but I’ve already tried
your patience with this lengthy screed…
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