Category: Music

Because I love to bring you some really obscure tracks…

I seem to be in a 1977 sort of mood.

This was my late friend Kent's favorite dance tune, possibly of all time. I remember many nights on the dance floor with him, twirling our asses off…

This was one of those records that I had a hell of a time finding back in the day.

No reminiscing this time, just a great tune from 1979…

This was the first song I ever slow danced to with another man. David Martinez, August 1977 at The Forum in Phoenix, AZ. I remember being so disappointed when I actually bought the album and brought it home because it wasn't on the same translucent pink vinyl that I saw playing at the club. It wasn't until the late 90s that I finally got hold of the elusive pink version…

I was quite infatuated with David. We dated long distance (he lived in Williams, and I was at school in Tucson). He drove to Tucson one weekend to see Fleetwood Mac with me, and I made the six hour trip (by bus) shortly thereafter to spend a weekend with him as the trees were changing up north. We hiked to the top of Bill Williams Mountain where I took this picture of him:

I had also decided at this point it was time to come out to the rest of my family (my dad had known for some time already), and since I knew my Mom always went through my dresser drawers, I left a copy of the then-seminal Loving Someone Gay in the top drawer on the way back to school. Needless to say, this prompted another trip home the following weekend…

Eventually the pressure of living in two separate cities proved too much for the budding  relationship and David and I drifted apart.  I briefly reconnected with him via email in 2000 and had every intention of looking him up after I'd moved back to Phoenix two years later, but it never happened.

How did this get sidetracked from the Thursday Dance Party?

Ah…memories of dancing at The Connection in Phoenix.

This came up on random shuffle on my iPod the other day and I've been meaning to share it since. It is one of my favorite tunes of the era, but surprisingly was not one of Sylvester's bigger hits. To this day I can't understand why.

I agree 100% with the comments left by a guy who posted a slightly shorter version of this on YouTube:

There have been many "classic" versions of this tune done by many artists over the years (from Shirley Bassey to Tom Jones, and more), but in my humble opinion, nothing comes close to the emotional resonance of Sylvester's version. Astounding and brilliant, it brings tears to my eyes, not only because of the beauty of his voice, but also because it was a such a special time period that will never be repeated. It didn't matter who you were or what you were. Everyone loved Sylvester.

My favorite track from the Eurythmics album 1984:

…I was extra nice to my Barista this morning. I honestly never realized they had it so bad.

BTW, this is exactly the kind of guy I would've gone after when I was his age. Amazing how tastes change as you get older. Anyhow, I still think he's cute, but from experience I know that very often under that kind of blond cuteness there lurks an unbridled propensity to break hearts, not that I'm saying he would…

Check out his other videos. This boy doesn't need Starbucks…he needs a manager and a record contract!

Very atmospheric. Courtesy the Phoenix Public Library.

Besides the iconic Bohemian Rhapsody, my other favorite cuts on this album are Prophet's Song and '39—which seems to be about a group of volunteers leaving earth on a mission to discover a new world, only to return and discover that while they've aged only a year, a century has passed on earth:

In the year of thirty-nine
Assembled here the volunteers
In the days when lands were few
Here the ship sailed out into the blue and sunny morn
The sweetest sight ever seen
And the night followed day
And the story tellers say
That the score brave souls inside
For many a lonely day
Sailed across the milky seas
Ne'er looked back never feared never cried

Don't you hear my call
Though you're many years away
Don't you hear me calling you
Write your letters in the sand
For the day I'll take your hand
In the land that our grand-children knew

In the year of thirty-nine
Came a ship in from the blue
The volunteers came home that day
And they bring good news
Of a world so newly born
Though their hearts so heavily weigh
For the earth is old and grey
Little darlin' well away
But my love this cannot be
Oh so many years have gone
Though I'm older but a year
Your mother's eyes from your eyes cry to me

Don't you hear my call
Though you're many years away
Don't you hear me calling you
Write your letters in the sand
For the day I'll take your hand
In the land that our grand-children knew

Don't you hear my call
Though you're many years away
Don't you hear me calling you
All your letters in the sand
Cannot heal me like your hand
For my life's still ahead, pity me.

A few years ago, while still working at the hospital, the subject of classic rock came up in discussion with a dear friend.  I was telling her how shocked my mother was when I brought home my first Bob Dylan record.

"That's nothing," she said. "You should have seen how shocked my mother was when I brought home Bob Dylan."

True story.

I know you might find it odd that a rabid atheist like me would go out of his way to procure an LP of music from the most of biblical film spectaculars of the 50s, but that's exactly what I did and there's a story behind it.

This record had been in my family for years, but I don't consciously remember hearing it until I was about 13 years old—about the same time I discovered a love of science fiction. Even then I didn't care much for the themes behind the music, but I played that record to death.

One of my favorite stories of that period was Rescue Party by Arthur C. Clarke, and the first time I read it, this record was playing in the background.  To this day I can't hear this music without thinking of Alvernon, the Galactic Survey Ship S9000, and their valiant attempt to locate the population of Earth just six hours before the sun was to go nova.

I replaced the well worn record with a new copy when I was in college, but sold it—along with the rest of my vinyl—in a fit of madness shortly after I moved to San Francsco.  Over the years, I've managed to replace most of my collection, but King of Kings has been elusive.

Thank you, eBay.

The Shuffled Music Meme

Some people say that if you want an answer, ask a question and play a random song on your music player. The title is the answer. My questions and answers are below.

1. Put whatever your digital music player is on shuffle.
2. For each question, press the next button to get your answer.
3. YOU MUST WRITE THAT SONG NAME DOWN NO MATTER HOW SILLY IT SOUNDS!

What is your Motto?
What Have You Done for Me (Jayne Montgomery)

What do your friends think of you?
Whatever Lola Wants [Gotan Project Remix] (Sarah Vaughan)

What do you think about very often?
Crystal Gayle Killed Frank Herbert (Tom Smith)

What is 2+2?
Love Hurts (Boy George & Culture Club)

What do you think of your best friend?
Hell is for Children (Pat Benatar)

What do you think of the person you like?
Happiness [B+M's New Re-Edit] (Bini+Martin)

What is your life story?
Color My Love (Fun Fun)

What do you want to be when you grow up?
She Will Never Learn (Simon Deewogab)

What do you think of when you see the person you like?
You Look Like the Sun (2 Colors)

What do your parents think of you?
In the Flesh? (Pink Floyd)

What will you dance to at your wedding?
Robotboy (Robyn)

What will they play at your funeral?
Dosvedanya Mio Bombino (Pink Martini)

What is your hobby/interest?
We Are Family [Sure is Pure Remix] (Sister Sledge)

What is your biggest secret?
Body Rock (Maria Vidal)

What do you think of your friends?
All I Need [Jimpster Remix] (Blue Six)

What's the worst thing that can happen?
Echo (Cyndi Lauper)

How will you die?
Love Vigilantes (New Order)

What is the one thing you regret?
Runaway (P!nk)

What makes you laugh?
The Man I Love (Dinah Washington)

What makes you cry?
Broken Vows (Dead Can Dance)

Will you ever get married?
From Here to Eternity (Giorgio)

What scares you the most?
Living in a State of Allowing (Abraham – Hicks)

Does anyone like you?
All is Well (Chicago)

If you could go back in time, what would you change?
Where Do We Go From Here? (Chicago)

What hurts right now?
Six Cold Forties (Shirley Q. Liquor)

What will you post this as?
Through the Glass Darkly (Annie Lennox)

Lately I've been rediscovering early electronic music. Long before we had techno, trance and ambient, there was a group of hearty pioneers laying the groundwork of today's modern compositions using the most archaic of equipment. One of my long-time favorite—and definitely one of the more "out there" works of the period (discovered at a trip to the library one summer afternoon when I was in high school)—is Morton Subotnick's Sidewinder.

Not really what I would call "music" per se, Sidewinder sometimes evokes the "electronic tonalities" of the Forbidden Planet soundtrack, other times a circling helicopter (especially dramatic in headphones), and other times like nothing as much as a cat's tail being pulled, this is one disk that squarely falls into the "experimental" category.

Another artist I have an incredible fondness for is Larry Fast of Synergy fame. At one time I had all his records from the 70s (many of them on clear vinyl), but so far I've only reacquired two: Sequencer and Cords. When I first heard these records again after nearly 30 years, it was like meeting old friends. Finding Electronic Realizations and Games is going to be my next project.

Much more musical than Subotnick's work, Synergy has a definite techno feel, although nothing to compare to contemporary examples of the genre. My favorite track on Cords is Phobos and Deimos Go To Mars, a very bouncy, upbeat piece that pulses with energy.