Old Enough to Forget

In the early '90s I was rummaging through the discount discs at A&B Sound and I stumbled upon a couple of CDs by a band called 1927. I had never heard of them, but something about them looked cool. Pre-internet there was no easy way to find out about bands and stuff, so music had to stand on its own merit. Getting the two albums at once was fun, like the old Monty Python gag it was an instant record collection. Thankfully both ...ish and the Neapolitan self-titled album were really good. It would be ...ish that I played more often, not that I remember it being the better album, it's just the one I pull out when I think of the band. This was Australian synth heavy pop with big guitars and great vocals. Yes, back in the '80s Australia had a sound, go figure. 1927 sounded a bit like Icehouse. It wasn't so much Icehouse as it was that vocalist Eric Weideman sounded a lot like Iva Davies, who was by default - Icehouse. Icehouse at the time was hot. ...ish came out a y...

The cover for Close Personal Friend stood out for a number of reasons, and none of them particularly complimentary, but my goodness, it looked like fun, and those oxblood penny loafers, man, those were something. This wasn't supposed to come home with me, but dang it, this was on ... Released in 1978 on Infinity Records in North America and Ensign Records in the UK, Close Personal Friend was on a label with some pretty solid artists and somehow managed to implode and decimate a number of promising bands in the process. Who'd a thunk releasing an album by Pope John Paul II would cause such havoc in pop music? The year was '78 and here was Robert Johnson sporting a delightfully egg-shaped haircut and holding a sunburst Les Paul, and those shoes. Maybe I was too harsh, all of that is complimentary. He looked like Moon Martin's doppelganger, right down to the glasses, and looked like a shot from a cold nightmare ... although Robert was the better dresser, and a hell of a ...

Walter Egan is probably best known for his 1978 hit "Magnet And Steel" that featured backing vocals by Stevie Nicks and Lindsey Buckingham. It was one of those hits that seemed to be on the radio all the time back in the summer of '78. One of the weird things about gold-selling singles is how muddy the waters are when you try and double check stuff. In this case I suspect Columbia moved a shitload of plastic 45s and declared it to be gold. I guess the suits figured they could save a buck and not pay to have RIAA certify the record. After all, it was a pretty big hit in the US and was also a decent hit here in Canada. Not sure what this has to do with anything, other than I found it interesting that nothing showed in the RIAA database. The music business is show business and apparently there's no business like show business. The art of sleight of hand ... Well, as often happens I've veered off into the weeds and am now trying to decide on calling for a Mulligan or ...

Right out of the gate, "No Shame" opens with every kitschy keyboard patch that was cutting edge in 1985, and the song is propelled by a frenetic right hand playing bass on a synth. The vocals were smack dab in the middle of the sweet spot of new romantic and techno. I'm trying to find the words to give a sense, but I suppose I should have just said it was an '80s vocal. The song is busy, really busy. So this is how the band followed up the '83 debut. The core band was intact from the debut, which was nice to see. I really liked a couple of songs from Heartland , but for whatever reason, when Real Life released The Flame , there was no fire and no smoke. I don't think I ever saw the record while flipping through the bins. Although I do remember seeing a collection of best-of-the-year lists culling what they thought were their top picks of 1985. There were a lot of mentions of Kate Bush, Dire Straits, and R.E.M., and there was one brave critic calling out Real ...

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...

I'd never heard of Delaney and Bonnie until relatively recently. It was like they didn't exist, and then one day they did. Their names would pop up in articles and they would be name dropped by other musicians who were a big deal in the early '70s. It makes sense that they flew on the periphery of my musical radar as they were only active for a couple of years (1969 - 1970) and their recorded output actually outlived the band. I found a stained copy (I hope that's coffee) of the record in a box of records my buddy Paul was getting rid of. The vinyl was in surprisingly good shape. My gain, his loss. More than he knows. On Tour With Eric Clapton was recorded in 1969 in England, with at least one song recorded in Croydon, and by all accounts is the duo's crowning achievement, capturing them with an all-star cast of supporting musicians. Delaney & Bonnie had great friends. This would be their best selling album and it would be certified gold in the US. Who were the...