Me and (relatively) new music, especially (relatively) new music in the country vein…this happens about as often as a Philadelphia sports team winning a world championship. But first, can we talk about the most intriguing hairdo the music world has ever set before my eyes?
Nine things I like. Do you have a tenth?
I don’t know how we measure this, so let’s trust our hearts. Years ago, after already putting in 10 years of loving The Kinks Are the Village Green Preservation Society album, my wife and I were driving somewhere as that album played and I had my finger on the SKIP button of our old car’s CD player as “Big Sky” began to play. “Big Sky” was not a surefire needle-lifter for me, but beside Lou Reed’s music and some Bob Dylan songs that may qualify, I’m not a big fan of talk-singing. I felt there was something hokey about “Big Sky” to make me want to listen to it every time I listened to that album. And I listened to that album frequently.
DON’T TOUCH THAT DIAL, my wife essentially said to me. She explained, “The song captures how I feel about nature, and the break is the most beautiful thing!”
She had a point there: the break is the most beautiful thing. “When I feel/That the world’s too much for me…” Beautiful!
I no longer skip “Big Sky,” not even occasionally, and for this city boy, it’s 100% for the love of the middle eight, not nature. Sorry. To be less of a natural, take-it-as-it-comes person, every time I hear that song I ask myself, Is there any middle eight that dominates relative to the song into which it’s set, that is so far greater than the rest of the song, than this one?
I think not.
You may have your own relatively most-dominant middle eight to suggest. REMEMBER: This is different than simply your favorite middle eight. I’m looking for songs that you find possibly saved by the middle eight. You might say, “the break is worth the price of admission.” Let’s hear it!
I was chatting with a couple of friends this afternoon. One friend pointed out that this would have been Stu Sutcliffe’s 80th birthday. While it’s still June 23 where I live, happy birthday, Stu!
We got to talking about the fame of The Beatles, and how they were able to carry two early band members into their historic wake who didn’t last long enough until the band got signed. How many other bands can claim having two fairly well-known members (to music fans) who never made it to the starting gate? We could only think of one other example.
This may be one of those highly specific Last Man Standings, with only 5 possible answers. I can only think of a few instances of this happening, but you rarely fail to impress me. And please, read closely to get the rules straight.
We’re looking for artists who, after their professional, credited career started, changed their name on album covers, billboards, recording credits and other documented places. (Get ready for some rules…)
Let me know if we need a separate thread to debate the rules. Because the field of possible answers is so tight, I won’t prime the pump with an example. As always, DON’T BOGART THIS THREAD. Limit yourself to one entry at a time.
Hits-a-Go-Go, as you deem fit!
I stumbled across this 1971 Bee Gees concert. I’m only a couple of songs in, but it may be an important find for people like us. Check out the opening number, where Barry puts forth an evolving Look at BTO-worthy shot to the midsection. Then Maurice counters with a Bakersfield-worthy slice of machismo called “Lay It On Me.” Robin settles down the threat of a full-on Bee Gees Fight Club with the tenderest of ballads, but parts of this performance beg the question…
