Old Enough to Forget

When I started playing records again, "Out of Nowhere" was an album I had long hoped to find, and I got close a few years ago, but the shop that had it was asking a lot more than I was willing to spend to satisfy my curiosity. I'd been waiting for a long time, so what was the harm in waiting a little longer? Not to spoil the surprise, but guess who found a copy in a dollar bin? Me. It was back in 1979, and I was sitting in my bedroom listening to CBC radio's Ninety Minutes with a Bullet. It was more than a countdown show, it was a little window that looked out into the rock and roll world. "Baker Street" was still a big deal, and there was a giveaway contest to get Gerry's new record, and all you had to do was send in a postcard with the answer to the following question: "Who was Gerry Rafferty's musical partner in Stealers Wheel?" Apparently, since Gerry was hitting it big, it only made sense that this other person was going to release a ...

I knew of Jeff before I ever heard Jeff, and over the decades (yes, DECADES) I’ve heard a lot of music he’s been involved in creating. Somewhere along the way, I grew quite fond of Jeff, and I even like his music. I consider him a friend - one I almost met in person once. If I have the date right, I missed my chance to rub shoulders with near greatness on November 16, 2002, when The Lost Dogs performed at Regent College in Vancouver. It was a wonderful little theatre. Theo Obrastoff was there that night - along with a cheap blue guitar he has since wisely hung on a wall after getting it signed by the guys (the best part is it can no longer be played) - promoting Come As A Child or Not At All , a tribute to his late son Andy. Jeff was there as well, opening the concert with a few solo acoustic songs I really enjoyed. Later, I’m pretty sure Derri played Jeff’s Gibson acoustic during The Lost Dogs’ closing set. The memory I have of Jeff, and the time we almost met, goes something like th...

I was going through some old posts and stumbled upon a couple of pieces I'd written about Nik Kershaw. Yes I read my own stuff on occasion just to see what I was thinking at the time. I have found that I am more often than not full of shit. It's like I don't know what I was thinking. This must be what it's like for you when you read my posts. Sorry. But, honestly it's just the way it is. Sometimes I surprise myself. Take this post, this isn't the way I wanted to start, but now that I'm typing I am sort of mesmerized as the letters start filling in the white space. If you have no idea what's happening, I feel the same way. Let's see where this goes. I had somewhat boldly proclaimed that "Wouldn't It Be Good" was merely the tip of the iceberg when considering the depths of his talents. A bit of hyperbole, but since there are no take backs, only retractions, I'll stand by the comment, and Nik was without question as ambitious as he wa...

After the abomination that was Power Play ... oh, it wasn't that bad ... it just wasn't that good either. I waited for April Wine to release a new album, and sure enough, in '84 April Wine dropped Animal Grace . The classic lineup of Goodwyn, Moffet, Greenway, Lang and Mercer was still intact, and all was right in the world. Animal Grace marked the end of an era. Although at the time I had no idea this was it. I'd grown up with April Wine being a key contributor to the soundtrack of my life, and I just figured that was how it would be. Funny how you don't know it's the last time until you have the ability to look back and realize it was where things ended. Goodwyn and Mike Stone crafted new sonic territory for the band. This was April Wine, but this was the '80s version of April Wine. Right from the opening track "This Could Be the Right One," April Wine was changing with the times. It was familiar, but it was new. Cementing the new sound for me ...

Sometimes my younger self likes to play games with old me. The games aren't always fun. I'm young enough to remember the things my body used to be able to do. Like the time my buddy Max taught me how to Alley-Oop dunk a basketball. "You just jump to where you want the ball to be ... it'll be there." Nowadays I'm lucky I don't kill myself if I misjudge the curb walking off the sidewalk.  Anyway, today I pulled out The Arrows album The Lines Are Open , and younger self piped up, "Hey, let's play a game." I shrugged my acceptance. "Tell me what I remember about this one before you play it." Okay, that wasn't too hard, and it wasn't an embarrassing physical challenge like trying to touch your toes. Fine, I'll play. The Arrows, The Lines Are Open . This one came out in '85 or '86. It had two killer songs, "Heart Of The City" and "Talk Talk." They were very '80s and slick as snot. I don't ...

Headpins were a blip on the musical landscape in the early '80s. They started as a huge blip, then a big blip, and then a blip, and then they were gone. Like all bands, there's always a story within the story, and it changes depending on who gets to narrate. I can't speak to any of that, so I won't. It's a bit weird to sit here behind a keyboard plonking away with nothing more than an opinion and memories, trying to describe what the album meant to me back in the day and the impact it had over the years. Spoiler: Headpins were never among my favourite bands, but they had more than enough stellar moments to be part of the conversation. They were just never at the table. So the impact was negligible. Awareness, though, that's something else entirely. I knew who they were. This is a horrible way to start, as it's definitely getting off on the wrong foot. I can recover from this, don't worry. I do this to myself all the time. I just pretend I missed a turn a...