Son of Dave.
Son of Dave.
To hell with the "Debt Crisis"
Here's Brian Auger and the Trinity featuring the way Mod and very underated Julie Driscoll.
I'm not sure who's on the bass and drums.
Despite having grown up on Motown and Detroit Rock and Roll, when asked about my favorite vocal group, I always go straight to Canton, Ohio and Philadelphia International Records' The O'Jays.
And as much as I respect the efforts of Motown Records' Holland-Dozier-Holland, Norman Whitfield, Smokey, et. al. there is no doubt in my mind that the greatest songwriters in the history of R&B, if not all of popular music are Kenny Gamble and Leon Huff.
This is Eddie Levert, William Powell and Walter Williams singing the Gamble and Huff classic Put Your Hands Together live on Don Cornelius' Soul Train.
The Mighty O'Jays.
I always do.
The first time I heard this song, I went straight to the record store, bought it, listened to it all the way home and then sat there in my driveway and listened to it a half dozen more times.
Maybe the single greatest two chord song ever written.
This is Raul Malo on guitar and vocals, Robert Reynolds on bass, Paul Deakin on drums, Nick Kane on the other guitar and Jerry Dale McFadden on keyboards.
I couldn't figure out anybody in a very tight horn section.
Dance the Night Away
For Ruth M. who did the best she could teaching the middle roanboy Algebra.
If you like "Popular Music" click the image below for just the coolest interactive imaginable.
We've been playing with it for over a week now.
Don't be put off by the Jazz label on the image.
It's all there, from OKEH Records to Stiff with everything before, after and in between.
Way, super double highly recommended.
Rest in peace Big Man.
When the change was made uptown and the big man joined the band
From the coastline to the city all the little pretties raise their hands
I saw Delaney and Bonnie open for Blind Faith at Olympia Stadium in downtown Detroit the summer of 1969.
I have no recollection whatsoever regarding who I went with except that somebody couldn't go and there was one ticket for $5 which I jumped at because I wanted to see Eric Clapton and Stevie Winwood.
What I do remember is that I was certain that Bonnie Bramlett was the single most gorgeous creature I had ever laid eyes on, and that I hated Delaney Bramlett more than I had ever hated anything in my life only because she was singing to him and not to me.
Plus that no good Delaney Bramlett could sing almost as good as Bonnie who I have up there among the most soulful singers of all time, not that far behind David Ruffin, Marvin and then Al Green.
Years later I read an Eric Clapton interview where he said that he had been worried some about that tour because Delaney and Bonnie had a much better band than was Blind Faith.
That's clearly my recollection although in fairness I was so smitten I might not have been perfectly objective on the issue.
This is Delany and Bonnie (the world's first white Ikette) Bramlett.
That's Bobby Whitlock on organ and backup vocals and Bobby Keys shaking something instead of playing the sax like he usually does.
When the Battle Is Over.
Right here is why no matter how tired you are, you gotta just keep goin'.
Get that last pull-up, hop that last fence, climb that wall or grab that drainpipe just one more time.
You never know when you're gonna want to just run out there onto the field during the ball game.
You want to be able to get away don't ya?
I hope he got away too.
We have deemed our project to spruce up the site to have been a glorious success, as not one of you including even the most irascible among you, has contacted us to tell us how much they hate our every idea ..... at least as it applies to the decorating ..... yet.
And since we're practicing avoidance with regards to a couple of posts that either we have promised and have not yet completed, most notably a post on health care reform we promised Madelyn M. and ..... somebody else, or posts that are finished but are in truth so ugly to contemplate we'd just rather not for a while longer.
Here's a little more art to brighten your day.
The following are some photo's of the Court of Industry at the Detroit Institute of Arts.
In 1932-33, that well known mexican, marxist, muralist, Diego Rivera with the unbending support of that well known capitalist, industrialist and rich white guy, Edsel Ford, painted one of the greatest works of the 20th century on the walls of the Detroit Institute of Arts.
Click each image for the DIA's wonderful interactive on each of the four walls holding the 27 panels that comprise this treasure.
We'll get serious tomorrow.
There aren't so many nice stories around lately, so I grabbed more of this one than I would have otherwise, just in case you can't get behind The Wall Street Journal's paywall with the provided links which as usual is accessed by clicking the photo and/or clicking on Mr. Moffets name below.
by MATT MOFFETT
GENERAL LEVALLE, Argentina—Pilots often stare in disbelief when they make their first flight over this hamlet on the verdant pampa. There, on the monotonous plain below, is a giant guitar landscaped out of cypress and eucalyptus trees. It is more than two-thirds of a mile long.
Behind the great guitar of the pampa, and its 7,000-odd trees, is a love story that took a tragic turn.
The green guitar is the handiwork of a farmer named Pedro Martin Ureta, who is now 70. He embedded the design into his farm many years ago, and maintains it to this day, as a tribute to his late wife, Graciela Yraizoz, who died in 1977 at the age of 25.
"It's incredible to see a design that was so carefully planned, so far below," says Gabriel Pindek, a commercial pilot for Argentina's Austral Lineas Aereas. "There's nothing else like it."
Born to a ranching family with deep roots here, Mr. Ureta was something of a bohemian as a young man. He traveled to Europe and hobnobbed with artists and revolutionaries. After coming home in the late 1960s, the then-28-year old became captivated by Ms. Yraizoz, who was just 17 and dazzlingly pretty.
But Ms. Yraizoz didn't have much time to wait. One day in 1977, she collapsed. She had suffered a ruptured cerebral aneurysm, a weakening in the wall of a blood vessel that eventually burst. She died shortly thereafter, carrying what would have been the couple's fifth child.
Today, Mr. Ureta says his wife's passing turned his life in a more philosophical direction. ¨I stepped back for a time,¨ he says. He read about Buddhism. Mr. Ureta says a line by an Argentine folk guitarist and writer, Héctor Roberto Chavero Aramburo, stuck in his head: "I galloped a lot, but I arrived late all the same."
Says Soledad: "He used to talk about regrets, and it was clear he regretted not having listened to my mother about the guitar."