I had no idea of Lockwood’s pedigree when he showed up at an early morning jazz appreciation class I took in college. For him, it was all about the blues, and his lecture/demonstration blew me away.
He was taught guitar by Robert Johnson (1911-1938), the legendary King of the Delta Blues (and the Grandfather of Rock and Roll) hence the nickname Robert “Junior.”
Most of Robert Johnson’s songs have been covered by modern musicians, but I hadn’t heard the original “Hellhound On My Trail” until today. It’s got unusual chord patterns and rhythms:
You sprinkled hot foot powder All around your daddy’s door.
Here’s Eric Clapton’s version from 2004, and it’s just as disturbing.
Have a great weekend, folks, and remember that everything’s gonna be alright.
The Big Lie (1951). Yeah, it was propaganda, but it was also true. I went to school with a guy whose family escaped from communist Hungary in a hot air balloon. You can laugh, say that “It can’t happen here,” but it IS happening here.
1]Freedom Sound
2]Man In The Street
3]Guns Of Navarone
4]El Pussycat
5]James Bond Theme
6]Sugar, Sugar
7]Nice Time
8]Simmer Down / Turn Your Lamp Down Low
9]Rockfort Rock (El Cumbanchero)
10]Latin Goes Ska
11]Phoenix City
12]Freedom Sound – Reprise
Have a great weekend, folks. See you back here tomorrow.
Little Walter’s Jump, 1967. From here: “Little Walter‘s harp is accompanied by Hound Dog Taylor (guitar), Dillard Crume (bass), and Odie Payne (drums), at the 1967 “American Folk Blues Festival” in Germany just months before his death.”
Rail bicycling looks like fun out in the open, but it would spook the hell out of me on the bridges. One rogue gust of wind blows you away, one mis-timed tunnel and you go splat. Nice vid with nice music.
Bo Diddley was a national treasure who got ripped off big time by the recording industry, partly due to his own ignorance of copyright law. The vid is from about 2008.
We lost another Great One this past week.
R.I.P. Richard Anthony Monsour aka Dick Dale (1937- 2019).
Have a great weekend, folks. See you back here in 24 or more.
The Rumjacks‘ “An Irish Pub Song” is “a piss take at the explosion of Irish Pubs in Australia and the bastardisation of a culture.”
From the lyrics posted on the Utoobage:
There’s a county map to go on the wall,
A hurling stick & a shinty ball,
The bric, the brac, the craic & all,
Lets call it an Irish pub.
Caffreys, Harp, Kilkenny on tap, The Guinness pie & that cabbage crap, The ideal wannabee Paddy trap, We’ll call it an Irish pub.