Sick of goodbyes, all right. Troubled Sparklehorse leader Mark Linkous says Goodbye.

Mad props from one Danko fan to another!

T-Bone Wolk, longtime Hall & Oates collaborator and bassist for the G.E. Smith (another H&O alum)-led Saturday Night Live house, died Saturday, February 27, of a heart attack. Known as the third (or sometime fourth, behind Oates' mustache) member of Hall & Oates, Wolk first made his professional mark as a bassist on Kurtis Blow's "These Are the Breaks." Along with being the cool, hat-wearing, occasionally Rick Danko-style bass-playing foil to the ponytailed, grimacing Smith (who in fairness may be as fantastic a human being as they come), Wolk played with Elvis Costello, Roseanne Cash, and many more.

In recent years Wolk was often seen playing guitar alongside Hall & Oates, which taking nothing away from his 6-string chops just wasn't right.

NEXT: Rock Town Hall's Official Eulogy...

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Just read the news that Doug Fieger of The Knack died Sunday. I wasn't old enough to remember the war the rock press had with this band and its success, but I do remember "My Sharona." Later, when I fancied myself a student of the power pop genre, I discovered that first Knack record and all of its many gems.

So, the questions for you is this: Get The Knack or Knuke The Knack?

TB

NEXT: Rock Town Hall's Official Eulogy...

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Now here's a recently deceased musician who meant a lot to me growing up. To tell the truth, I thought Sound of Philadelphia singer and sex symbol extraordinaire Teddy Pendergrass was dead already. The guy suffered more bad breaks than most, such as the car accident that paralyzed him at the height of his popularity. I guess it was his diagnosis of the cancer that finally did him in that got misfiled in my mind.

As lead vocalist for Harold Melvin & The Bluenotes, Pendergrass first came fully into focus for me through the group's hit song "Wake Up Everybody." This is still my favorite TSOP recording. I dig the way the arrangement slowly swings and builds. I dig the guitar fills. I dig the idealistic lyrics, which always made me feel better during generally bad times. I dig the long, shuffling fadeout. I dig the contrast between the horns and the strings. I dig the slow burn of Pendergrass' husky vocal and the harmony on the choruses. Like a lot of the best hits by The O'Jays and other TSPO groups, the magic's in the fadeout. Finally, this may not be something I should share, but I dig what he represented to me, a white boy, as a black man in the mid-'70s.

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I won't pretend that the death of Jay Reatard rattles me to my core, but wow, this was a rare "new" musician whose work I found interesting and full of life.

A couple of years ago Townsman kpdexter directed me toward his music, thinking it may appeal to the Buzzcocks and tuneful Guided By Voices side of my tastes. Sure enough the collection of singles I bought sounded like the Buzzcocks through the tuneful side of GBV! At times the "in your faceness" of his delivery wore me out, but whenever those songs pop up on my iPod I feel like there's still hope for raw nerves to energize rock 'n roll music.

I checked out Reatard's latest album and didn't find it as exciting, but I meant to take some time to read up on the guy and see what made him tick. Now it won't be the same. My condolences to his friends and family.

Link: http://www.nytimes.com/2010/01/06/arts/music/06mitchell.html

Legendary Al Green producer/arranger Willie Mitchell died today at 81. Although I haven't heard many Mitchell productions on par with the dozens of excellent recordings he made with Green, his style was so money that he even made solo Keith Richards sound pretty good.

Pretty good. It's still burnt-out Keef on lead vocals, but those gently thumping drums, the warm guitar, and the chunky-but-never-overbearing horn punctuations were money in the bank. Feel free to lecture me on the wonders of Ann Peebles and other artists Mitchell helped, a large piece of the magic that is Al Green has left us.

NEXT: Rock Town Hall's Official Eulogy...

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Although it's Saturday, not Friday, the recent passing of Philadelphia singing and tv legend Al Alberts necessitates revisiting the following topic.

This post initially appeared 3/25/07.

True confession time: I envy the contestants on American Idol. For that reason alone I cannot stand to watch the show. That doesn't mean I don't secretly respect the show and all the good it puts forth.

Few of you know this, but I was a child talent show contestant.

Performing under the stage name James Meara III, I appeared on the legendary Philadelphia talent show Al Alberts Showcase. That was me, all right, Contestant #22. That day, on the air, I told Mr. Alberts I wanted to be a doctor, but that's what my parents wanted to hear. In fact, there was nothing more I wanted to be than an entertainer: a singer, a dancer, a drummer, the works.

Mr. Alberts was so encouraging. He told me after the show that he thought I "had it." Within weeks of that performance, however, I was kicked off the set of another children's show, Romper Room. I can remember it like it was yesterday: I was sitting behind the set with a few other kids during a commercial break. One of the boys took my red, plastic stegasaurus and wouldn't give it back to me as soon as I asked for it. In response, I did what I often did when confronted with such situations: I turned over the table, threw my chair at the boy, and then hit him with a left hook. When Romper Room came back from the commercial break, I was mysteriously missing from the cast, having been quickly escorted with my mother out of the studio.

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Link: http://www.mtv.com/news/articles/1623810/20091014/story.jhtml

Famed wrestling manager and early '80s rock cross-hanger on Captain Lou Albano died this week. A lot can be learned about a Townsperson by determining whether knowledge of Captain Lou Albano first came to you through his profession as a wrestling manager, his work with NRBQ, or his work with Cyndi Lauper.

NEXT: Rock Town Hall's Official Eulogy...

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In honor of Peter, Paul, and Mary's Mary Travers, who died last night, what's the first "drug song" you were aware of as a child? By "aware," man, I mean, like, cognizant of the fact that adults around you were mumbling about the song's true meaning. As a young boy, I was aware that "Puff the Magic Dragon" has something to do with smoking...something. A couple of years later, I started hearing about the "true" meaning of "Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds."

Considering the demographic of our regular participants, it wouldn't surprise me if these two songs end up being the first two gateway drug songs for the majority of us. However, rumor has it that some of you may not have been shaving until 1980 or later. What would younger folks' first gateway drug songs have been in the second half of the '70s, the '80s, or - if our youngest Townspeople care to participate - the '90s?

If you'd also like to take this into Last Man Standing territory...

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If I were a real, professional blogger with industry cred, I might be compelled to cover the following topics:

• Kayne West pulling the VMA trophy from Taylor Swift and making a complete ass of himself and all the white folks who fell for him in the first place because his album titles promote the fact that he's a credible hip-hop musician who also graduated college, or something like that.
• Jim Carroll's death. Don't get me wrong, I loved "People Who Died" as much as the next guy, but the rest of that debut album was kind of pedestrian to my ears and, maybe sadly, I never got around to checking out his poetry. The little bit I once saw of that Basketball Diaries movie looked good, though. If Carroll looked like Leslie West rather than a cross between David Bowie and Kevin Bacon would I be feeling less compelled to cover the man's passing?

Sorry, I'm in a bit of a grumpy mood today after a blow-out, fun weekend only interrupted by my boys' soccer team's second-half collapse and news of a friend dying. My friend Tim never wrote anything as catchy as "People Who Died" or chronicled his life as a teenage basketball star and junkie, but in his short life he lived through more hardships (eg, heart transplant at 16, loss of his seemingly healthy nonsmoking wife to lung cancer at the age of 33, a few battles with cancer himself until this last one beat him) than any hardships most celebrities can cook up to induce on themselves. Tim was a solid, soulful guy from the time my friend Mary Beth first introduced him to me as her new boyfriend to the last time I saw him. I'll always remember the penultimate time I saw him.

Last October, my friend Pete and I met up with Tim and his brother at the prescribed inning along the concourse down the third base line at Citizens Bank Park to watch an inning of the Phils-Brewers' division playoff game. Throughout the second half of the 2008 Phillies season, we'd been making a habit of meeting during the same inning of all games on our season ticket plan. It was becoming a good luck inning, and that night we got to witness Brett Myers' shocking and epic at-bat against CC Sabathia, which was punctuated by Shane Victorino's grand slam! As the ball traveled before our eyes, we grabbed each other and hugged with all our might. We hugged anyone in reach. Man hugs. Women hugs. Kid hugs. Love was in the air, and it wouldn't surprise me if a couple of complete strangers conceived that night, seconds after the ball cleared the leftfield wall.

I still have no interest in discussing Kanye West, but I'm now better able to empathize with whatever some of you may be feeling about Jim Carroll.