power couple

love these two to death...

chateau marmont

big sur houses

wolfman jack

charles lloyd quartet

shafiq husayn

Shafiq Husayn - "Lil' Girl" (video) from gregthedude on Vimeo.

soul!

gonna keep my words short on this one. it speaks for itself!



Soul!

new gil scott-heron

matthew larkin cassell

sometimes it just doesn't seem worth it to collect records. i had one of these moments recently when i had to move my collection. why do i hoard these hunks of plastic that take up so much space and are a pain in the ass to haul around when i change my address? why do i find myself hunkered down on the floor of thrift shops and record stores, digging through piles of dusty cardboard and vinyl? because of music like this:



this afternoon, the music of matthew larkin cassell came sweeping "in my life". first off, i read this article: http://www.sfgate.com/cgi-bin/object/article?f=/c/a/2009/11/04/DDRD1AE5O9.DTL&object=%2Fc%2Fpictures%2F2009%2F11%2F02%2Fdd-CASSELL27_PH0_0500719198.jpg and immediately went about seeking more information about this mysterious mill valley resident. just e-mailed stones throw records, who informed me that they will get back to me when a release date is set for the collection of matthew larkin cassell music they are sharing with the world. brilliant. once again, i am blown away by the incredible music created in my home state!

el topo

this just completed melted my mind:



as i was trying to put the pieces back together, and thinking about how amazing the music was in the movie, i came across this:



wow...

natural bridges in ferndale...

one magical summer a few years back, one of my dearest old friends jody offered his van and bass playing abilities and we hit the road. this was quite an adventure, and i just located footage of the band at curley's in ferndale, ca. we got quite the treatment as we enjoyed a comped dinner at a private, curtained off table. the beer flowed and so did the tunes. i remember the opener was a middle-aged woman playing 12-string guitar. i think it was her first show ever! sweet. after the show, grant (the drummer) and i indulged in a little of humboldt county's #1 cash crop with a man who regaled us with stories of witnessing bob dylan during his early days in greenwich village as well as bob marley on one of his early american tours. anyways, here's a small clip i'm glad to have to remember this evening by:


Natural Bridges @ Curleys

Monica... from K-SLuG (and beyond) | MySpace Video

charles earland

these last few posts are meant to catalog some things i've been listening to these past couple of days. trying to school myself on jazz. although, i need to break out of the '70s. amazing decade, but there are things to discover from other periods as well...

sonny fortune

gary bartz

black dynamite score

i really am inspired by hearing about the process in which this music was created. i have felt that maddening feeling of running back and forth between the tape machine and the guitar/keyboard/microphone/whatever countless times to get that part right. there is something satisfying yet super crazy about working on music by yourself.

the thing that amazed me was that the creator, adrian younge, actually learned the flute for this project! it really speaks volumes, to me, about the level of his talent. i have a flute myself, but can't make any kind of pleasing noise come out of it! i'll definitely be picking up this soundtrack....



another interesting look into the making of black dynamite:

http://makingof.com/insiders/media/adrian/younge/editor-composer-aj-younge/9/18

stanley cowell

listening to this is the perfect way to close out a sunday. had to listen to the pharcyde sample, as well!

ghana postal workers

i heard this long ago in a class i took on world music at portland community college. it always seemed so beautiful to me not only because of the melody, but because of the fact that these postal workers are using music and rhythm to enhance the hum-drum daily grind of doing a job.

a.paul ortega

my very good friend chris introduced me to the beauty and magic of a.paul ortega a couple of years ago. last november, i put the cd in while driving through the plumas national forest along the feather river and was hypnotized. the natural beauty outside the window and the plaintive beauty of the music intertwined and put me in an almost trance-like state. the music accompanied the stretch of the drive along the river almost perfectly. once i turned off onto another highway, the music was over. i had to pull of and get out of the car to take a breath and let myself slowly return to "normal". today, my mind drifts back to the words of a.paul ortega. chris posted this video up earlier this evening and it put me right back into the state of mind i was in last november. hopefully, it will do the same for you. meet a.paul ortega:

old poems

feeling nostalgic so decided to peruse some old poems i had hidden away in a corner of the internet. i don't know how much longer they will be able to hang out where they are without disappearing. so i thought in the interest of archiving i'd throw them up here. these are all free-verse works that basically were just spun off the top of my head while using the internet at a job in san francisco in 2001 as well as in the libraries of the cities of athens, georgia and portland, oregon from 2001-2006. titles are in all-caps. here we go!


ALONE AT THE MICROPHONE

here i stand
consumed by beauty
apple eyes reflected in a raindrop
gone close to dawn
leaving the oven on
and to the child who was born today
we make a path with birds' beaks and twine
we will swath you in blankets made by homeless grandmother's
bird shit on nehru collars
dusty sunglasses on mantels
pools of sweat underneath the freeway
rolling towards the sun

ORGAN TONES ACCOMPANY BASKETBALL JONES

dream-graphs
sudden prism-like movements
lens flares and smoldering stares
can't forget the flashlight
splintering the night
violet suburban evenings
shoes lit by lawn lamps
7-11 radiant and looming
full to the brim with the crepuscule
of my lingering youth
your new gold tooth
fills your smile with sunrays
sticky southern summer daze
the ringing of your phone says:
"you are not alone!"
but grandfather wolf prowls
in the secret shadows of my pocket
his shy smiles saying
"i'm red and not dead!"
i will soar like an eagle
over this unconscious block
sippin' 1800 hyphy juice like its out of stock
hugging the coast like my grandmother's ghost
and farewell to the grand illusion
swelling neighborhoods and silent storms of confusion...




AWASH IN BABY FORMULA AND SPRING FLOWERS

stoned on tea
as high as i wanna be
rainforest sun-splash
pomegranate thunder shower
stunning beauty in the dorm room hall
saturn teeth and polite applause
roll down your window
it is friday nite
and the mood is always right
to follow your brother down the trail
lightly dusted with rain
watch your footing
step in the direction of the purple splendor
that fills the aches in your bones with sticky syrup
smooth salve
underground rumblings
tanned eyelids
bonfire on the beach
flashlight in your back pocket
porches in the shadows
open hearts
open hearts
swallow the splendor of morning...

LEARNING TO SEE AGAIN

whispering pines
catching the breeze in their teeth
mitten with missing thumb
cold thursday gutters wet with wednesday's rain
i am at your doorstep tying my shoelace
i am warbling birds in kindergarten classrooms
christmas lights in your eyes
i will try you on for size
and fall victim to sweet sensations
crawl on carpets of foam and tears
bamboo gardens in the mist
are just like all the girls
i've never kissed...




CAZEDERO

misty morning musings
sunbeams arc towards pure hearts
a car with no headlights heads towards the water
strange stirrings in the tree grove
light trapped in the branches from the fading afternoon
the creek flows softly
your hands as white as the newly risen moon
your eyes two trapped stars
their friends and family twinkle knowingly
the blackberries wildly climbing the bank
the vines thick and foreboding
your mouth full of fruit
the juice spots on your t-shirt
the car, cold and lonely
baskets of blackberries strapped in with seatbelts
headlights on the stretch of road back to the cabin
quick glimpses of the creek through lushness of the trees
your voice singing along to the radio that is fading in and out
fading between stations

RUN, WHEN THE FOOD IS HOT AND THE SUN IS DESCENDING

these mosquitos suck on oranges
and i am awake, my new watch strapped to my wrist
to take in the embers of a well-tended fire
and to transmogrify
these pens are our swords
broken and bleedy
we weild them with care
we are grass growing in the backyard
we wait out the rain in the garage
i turned on my old computer
i stared at a face that is studded with diamonds
old men
old shoes
old apartment building with dirty snow
snow falling on a broken piano
lettuce run with julian
keeping that fire tended
the sparks jump and flicker
old girlfriends
wise men
joy-jumpers
half-sandwiches
bald husbands
wishes
tornado in a 2-liter
bubble bath soap operas
mistakes made while walking
tree identification
road-runner
work week
wanting to see certain words on this computer screen that let me know that i am still alive...

UPDATES ON THE STATE OF THE MARSHMALLOW SOIL

i am all over this highway like asphalt
mixing in with your synapse shots
driving diamonds until they rust
then leaving them in a purple dumpster
day-glo robes
epic poems
goose calls
flea-flick
pearl dive
i wonder if matthew still has that hippie cloak that i gave him...

PURPLE PIRATES OF THE EARLY MORNING

i asked you to take in the sun
you knowingly opened the window
but i said
"take the sun into your heart!"
and your chest was as soft and glowing as the moon
brother and sister collided and sparks flew
the trees were dappled by this majestic merging
your smile was endless and eerie
your teeth diamonds in the dark, silent mine of your mouth
your eyes twin stars
turquoise fountains reflected
and you sat in the bathtub half-full of lukewarm bubbles
your skirt waving like a starfish
i felt that lightning flash hit my fingertips
and the thunder roll of my tongue and hit the cool of the tile with a sweet vibration
rippling like cartoon piano keys
then the streetlights all went out on 11th
and my bicycle glided towards a saxophone squeak...

PREPARING FOR THE AUTUMNAL BLISS-OUT

on goes the curling of autumn leaves

the gears shifting

orange flowers in bicycle baskets

bubble wand on park bench

ancient artifacts in the treasure trove of those dusty cardboard boxes

excavation at midnight

multi-dimentional globe hop with gil-scott

fog sky

weepy eyes

lime juice in the water bottle

bright faces on the cereal box

into the elevator with a box full of greeting cards

rastafari reflection with a smiling intention

young girls and faux pearls

holding hands

climbing on board the pirate ship made of marshmallow and cruising through the cotton-swab morning mist

righting wrongs and singing songs

taking pictures of ladies

joni mitchell between my ears

melting my cotton candy mind


A POTATO WITH TWO MUSTACHES

today is the day to let go of beards

and tho the cultivation was slow

other things need room to grow

and so

let the bedazzled shoes of a young woman

enter into a mirror

and we can only hope that from here on out

the answer will become clear

i am dreaming of fruit trees

and lavender-laced households

farewell to the sweetness

who knows what the future holds?

i will put a daffodil in my lapel

and a baby duck above my pocket

i say "here is my heart!"

but nobody tries to unlock it

monday comes and goes

monday comes and goes

and the porch is occupied by a bumblebee

he has the same color eyes as me

we yawn together uncontrollably

yawning

on and on-ing

i ride a bicycle into the dawning

and we say

together we can hold hands and change the way two pairs of eyes see the world

but where is the other pair of eyes?

a fair skinned girl with a dark surprise

who will tear at the fancy paper and string?

and excavate this beautiful thing?

oh! expanding days of spring!

Vines through bicycle wheels

You were a freelance son of a firecracker,

Winding through the sky with bits of graham crackers

Falling from out your ear.

You got lost in the family business

So now you paint on pizza boxes

And staple them to fences.

When I first knocked on the bathroom window,

A ribbon was tied round the doorknob.

And there was a blue-eyed dog waiting for me…

He had a bicycle chain in his mouth.

And his left paw was stepping on a pack of Salem’s.

I could see that he was not going hungry.

His eyes told me that he had not eaten a thing today, though.

And as I bent down to pet him.

Lightning struck the eye of a pigeon.
AND AWAY WE GO WITH TWO LEASHED DOGS

a bloody glove will fix my troubled mind

and leave a red reminder of the oceans left behind

and who will i sing to? now that you are lost forever?

and who will whisper in your ear about secret lives?

i will stand by natural bridges and roar loudly

and i will make sure to have a group of friends around me

because this roar has lots in store and it might cripple me

but in the end i think it will my lungs and heart twice as strong...

where the waterfall meets the highway

gentle birdsong

saturday morning

early/alert

same old startled dog

his leash is dirty and dragging

same old invisible fog

with a voice softly bragging

"i was here long before the wind!"

and so my morning begins

and the tape sprockets spin

capturing all the lost songs

given to me unwrapped

and un-ribboned

full of hope and unshielded

awake and aware

that this daydreamer will stare

into the face wet with dew

and the sunbeams grew tall

they climbed this light green wall

and the clouds framed behind grew dark and more mysterious...

and we played the game that strangers play

i threw some gleaming words your way

and they stuck in your teeth

and lit up your mouth like a sparkle in a wave

and we've said goodbye before

and mentioned our reuniting

i remember uncomfort

and fireworks sparking

and trees forming a circle

and interrupted melding

and the stars from the balcony

and the smell of your hair

oh! the dangers of the evening

when i walk past the park

the rainbows unraveling

grandstanding silence of the dark

rain teasing and trickling

songs under soft green light

small guitars and fluttering

neighbors to the north

and a welcoming home

quiet princess on a throne

and warm humming

friendly strumming

wayward clouds

and whispering fog...


TOTALLY RAD MUSIC 2004

pale-fisted and filthy

we take turns in the park

lifting benches and raindrops

till they explode in our hearts

rusty rollercoasters and ex-dodgers

the car wheels on the curb

and the high-heeled laughing

from the just-desserts

come up in the sunshine to sprinkle the dirt

in the eyes of the lightning flashing down the hallway....

THROUGH THE DAY QUAKING

into the dirt i drag my feet

a song escaping through my teeth

those cracking rocks this vacant lot explodes with flowers

through green bottles comes the sun

i am sometimes alone just like everyone

i wear a costume of a lion that roars

and my growls knock the hinges off doors

but mostly i am silent in the dim cavern

i call home

i am mostly alone

and the night does get cold

but my blankets unfold

and i sleep under orange glowing

CLEAR MOUNTAIN WATER FROM MY EYES

i awake from an afternoon nap

and dirty hair does my bidding

i am crawling in refrigerators in the summer heat...

and the pools swept up by sweeping motions

stain my hands with your magic potions

and leave me hiding under the bed with a flashlight in hand...

i am doing your bidding and winning your wars

you sit in wicker chairs keeping the score

an anchor in your heart

and your shoulders grow pale and strong...

these computer lines will dance much faster

and the earthquakes signal natural disaster

and your glasses will rise up from the bridge of your nose

you are an unfolded rose

you are the knower who knows

you are a child's cornrows

you are a free-form prose

you are gentle, dirty toes

MODERN DOO-WOP FOR THE CLUB KIDS

all the stars are shining in your gold tooth

and its true ive had the blues for too long to mention

down by the waterfront the parades are done by noon

and the garbage trucks are standing at attention

waiting for the word

aren't you glad you heard?

that the world is spinning happily for this generation

sandy paws are washed

disappointed arms are crossed

strings lay silent

keys are lost in pockets

and windows are opened to the sun

sparkling off of your gold tooth...


22ND CENTURY UNFOLDS

fall asleep to the sound of silence singing electricity in your ear

and spread out your wings in impossible dreams upon a river of golden sun

and drink in the richness and warmth

hold close the ideas that are born

and let loose the saggy winter skin

and let the springtime in

cover in a blanket made by a stranger

open your heart to heart-pounding danger

and close your eyes

watch the sunrise

behind closed eyes

watch the sun rise

behind closed eyes

watch the sun rise

behind closed eyes


sleeping still with soft breathing and a lightning bolt-ish presence in your shoulder when i shake you


i shake you after all these years spent trying to shake her...
library find sparks bright red mind

beautiful blond, you are staggering.

just when i chose to give all my love to the elements

you came to me with cheeks like roses

snowcloud-covered brilliant flower..

i long to sit in the glow of the television light and explore every scaled-down acre of you...

every soft glowing hill and glen

every spring green meadow and wildflower speckled clearing...

all the magic in the making

all the mystery of everyday earthquakes

make me soluble and evervessant

hold still and crackle like untuned radio waves

bespectacled and amazed...

NEIL ARMSTRONG APPRECIATION SOCIETY

tonight the sky will grow dark and spray wildly...

i will give up and grow cold and the wind will know my scent...

morning will break the code and lighten the load...

and i will be left holding an empty llama leash, homesick and dizzy...

dead moth gleaming glacier

in these arms i will stay

beneath the moon and sky

i will reach for the dirt

and hold it close

i will bend towards the parking lot

feel the heat on my feet

cuz you've spent all day

gathering the courage

to walk away...

but when saturday comes

and the sun streams leave you mesmerized

i will tap on your window

i will see you off

to this place we all go to

under ultraviolet

beams of light playing

of the blue specks in your eyes

i will die under a rainbow

and be healed from the inside

i will swim to an island

read about you in a book

and i will dance till my head swims

and the oceans bleeding purple

in the night

toy pianos

echo naturally

in the jar by the bathroom

the cloud parts

breath soundlessly

aching for the atmosphere

can you get high by going higher?

and touching your reflection

on the surface of the sun

and we can sing

we all can sing

till we're done

lonely lifetimes

filled with moments of beauty

like that time out by the water

i walked out on the seaweed

and you took your shirt off

and i wrote in the sand

this is love

this is love

i can't hold it in my hand

this is love

this is love

lets keep it forever

over rain covered driveways

and turbulent flight paths

its all changing

its all leaning

toward the lightbulb in your chest

and it is filtered through a dragonflys wing

and the song loses its words

like the leaves gone from a tree

and we are living our life in perpetual autumn and spring...

love is a rollercoaster full of apples and oranges

photograph a failing sunday

i am awkward does this make me human?

set me down and leave me to the shadows

i am frightened does this make me human?

are we moving across a wet field?

the grass is reaching for sky shards

the moon is charting our progress

our eyes reflecting breathing star charts

we cannot measure the distance

between the abandoned parking lot

and the uncomfortable living room cot

we are the berries of the universal

the treasures at the end of some rainbow

that is only made up of three colors

we mix and match and make the glow

that allows our hearts to grow

i pick the plan

i am a man

i am grown but full of childish thoughts

i saw my sister

i felt her blood clot

i passed out and woke up with wind rushing

and my face open to the elements

i am on my back on a station wagon

heading towards the tall trees off the freeway

waiting to let the ocean into my veins

crying out until the silence is bleeding

it drips from my gums i can't stop this bleeding

i lay in wait with rose hips and water is purple

walking with a starfish

opening up from the inside

causing laughter to spill from a boombox and fill us up

you r multi-colored lovely

you r a beautiful ray

you r a wasp in the summer shop

you r a black t-shirt

with my mushroom mind i touch the sky

and with finger bent

i leave a dent...


THE WIND CRIES "I LOVE YOU"!

down by the overflowing river

we throw in rocks and watch them fall

we stare death right in the face and notice the twinkle of the eye

relaxing while the rally cries surround us

summer evening falls on corduroy sleeves

front-yard fires and accidental flashing faces

we are lit by the light of thunderous human lightning strikes

bury it in the dirt

rum and coke colored afternoons fading into collective wading pools

i watched your eyes watch mine

untold truths and warm hearts go unspoken

walking round the block and feeling a love like no other

happy valentines day, matthew johnson. good thing you didn't hold up your end of the bargain

the universe brings love to your doorstep and you draw the curtains closed

glowing heart camps under your window and you are dreaming too much too notice

blud-wyzzard drops the science and wears a t-shirt emblazoned with fate

kicking giant breaks in the green sweater and spills sideways love stories

too bold to sing

too harried to heckle

too frantic to notice the smoke

a friendly hand on broad shoulder

sparkling snare

enchanted front porch heart attack

you showed up but i don't know your last name

gold dust woman

mining for disaster

bicycle mix-ups and multicolored passenger

and there was the brower kid

and there is now loneliness in its place

the burnt orange feeling crosses the freeway to fade....


COUGHING HEADACHE

i walked around my neighborhood

i met a man who said to me

"i am on fire inside my head"

and my heart is not strong enough to put out these flames.

they grow stronger day by day

the orange and red will always stay hidden

behind my eyes of glassy green

the foam and the crashing of the sea

i wake to the sound of an unknown voice who calls out a name

and falls to the curb

to seek out the treasures in the dirt

to be the one who gets there first

and finds a symphony

drifting aimlessly

do you believe in love?

can you navigate these trails

bordered by flame and grey-green gauze

i'll get the lights

you pull around back with the car

i mean what i say

i hear the echo of one voice who says

"viola"

she was my daughter

she stepped on the seaweed

she said "this feels good to me"

and the warm water pulls her

her ankles give way

they are sideways in wet sand

the pull is tremendous

i lose my hold on her hand

and now she lives in a mirror

a splendid reflection

that will shine forever...

brother weldon

spent last night listening to weldon irvine's "sinbad" album about 6 times in a row. i have gone through intense weldon-listening periods in the past, but i have to say that "sinbad" is tops for me as far as his catalog is concerned. i just picked up the lp a week or so ago at amoeba in sf, but it was at the bottom of the pile and i spent more time with hampton hawes and the supremes album prod. by jimmy webb. but finally, weldon got his chance to shine.

if you are at all familiar with weldon irvine, you probably know that he took his own life. it really is intensely sad for me to know that someone who exuded such spirit, soul and joyfulness in his music felt existing was too much of a burden. i feel much the same way about the insanely talented donny hathaway. anyway, there is a track on "sinbad" featuring weldon by himself on the piano. it really takes me someplace else and offers a glimpse into the heart of this extremely talented artist. take a listen...



peace go with you, brother weldon...

waxidermy

this is one of those places on the internet i would end up spending hours of my life perusing in the portland state library while i was in school. throw on some headphones, write a short paper for spanish class, and then go way deep into waxidermy's seemingly endless trove of treasures. weird, bizarre, deeply spiritual (or deeply absurd)music sung by men, women and children from all walks of life and different spots of the globe. nancy is a good place to start! check out WAXIDERMY

joe rogan on dmt

wow, this is really the last person i thought i'd discover speaking on this subject!

we live in berkeley, baby!

not to toot my own horn, but i feel as though i have reached a major milestone in my life today. this morning, i picked up the keys and put down the first and last on a cozy little studio in berkeley. while this may seem to some an easy to achieve feat, to me it has been a long time in the making.

when i graduated from high school, my home turf was caught up in the dot.com boom, and rents were out of control. i remember at one time the only feasible option to me was to rent the closet in a friend of mine's room! crazy times. so, i left the californian motherland for pastures that weren't necessarily greener, but had cheaper rent. i found myself spending time in both athens, georgia and portland, oregon. while both these towns have a magic all their own, really nothing compares to the california state of mind.

so, i have made what i now can consider a triumphant return to the place of my birth. as my friend chris (who just moved to the intensely beautiful town of carmel valley) said to me a little bit ago: the california renaissance is beginning to bloom. flowerin'!

east bay rhythm

east bay all day!

gumby dharma

if i would have had a blog months ago, i would have written about art clokey for sure! so glad he entered my thoughts again so that i could possibly turn someone somewhere out there in the vast outer-internet-space onto the documentary with this amazing and inspiring man as its subject! check out Gumby Dharma!

fred hughes

passed this up at amoeba the other night. a little pricey. but the cover art is...um...price...LESS! for real, though. i might have to steal some ideas from this for the natural bridges album cover!

joni

joni mitchell's "blue" is one of my favorite records of all time. it always seems to find a way out of its sleeve and onto the turntable at just the right moment. i have known that i'll be good friends with someone instantly once the subject of our mutual love of this album becomes known. i had an ex-girlfriend who made me play this song over and over again in the car's tape deck. it really kinda perfectly encapsulates our relationship, looking back on it now. thanks, joni...

hampton hawes

stole this from amoeba at $2.99! this man is magic on the fender rhodes...i'm now determined to track down his album "northern windows" with axelrod! maybe try to get a hold of his autobiography as well...

O-let'-te Coyote-man, the Creator

david axelrod

stole this from my friend, lexx . i think it is super appropriate that axe is depicted on a brick wall. he seems like a tough dude!

leroy smart

wow...leroy sure has some happenin' album covers! i've been spending more and more time checkin' out album art as i decide what i want for this new album i've been mixing. such a deep decision!

little thinker tapes

slums

pulled this out and listened to it again after almost forgetting i had it. love galt's arrangement and production style.

old grey curtis

had to post this one! curtis mayfield is a huge inspiration to me, and i feel like this is some of the best performance footage of the man. i'm going to chicago later this month and am so ready to walk the streets that curtis may once have. chicago is a super soulful city, having counted curtis, donny hathaway, the dells, jerry butler, the chi-lites, tyrone davis, charles stepney, and the five stairsteps among MANY others as residents. hope i can catch some of the vibe!

jamaica, say you will

another old grey whistle test performance. i highly recommend the dvd's if you can find 'em. a friend of mine pointed out how awesome jackson's glasses are in this video, and i admitted that i had a similar pair in 7th grade!

withers and gadson

no wonder someone made a james gadson quilt, the man is BAD!!! wish i could find a drummer like that. the perfect combination of heavy funk while doing whats right for the song and making sure it comes first. not many can do that well.

still bill

playing october 8th at the grand lake theater as part of the oakland international film festival!

max romeo lee perry cassette portrait

by sami havia

marcia griffiths

if you can walk, you can dance, if you can talk you can sing

this print has followed me from athens, ga to portland, or and now back to california. can't wait to hang it up in the new pad!

berkeley barb

BART 1975

stir crazy

watched this in santa cruz after a long stretch of mixing. went great with gin and tonics and a little mind expansion. hadn't seen it since i was a kid!

van culture

hey, vandora! hallelujah!

high as a llama

i used to listen to the high llamas around the time of their "hawaii" album, but somehow never got around to the later stuff. now i am able to see the shuggie otis and todd rundgren influence, not just the beach boys, robert wyatt and nick drake vibes that permeate "hawaii". lovely stuff...

the night tripper

my three favorites. each evokes a completely different feeling, from the pure and dirty new orleans funk to ruminations on life and death to creepy voodoo psychedelia...

john and dave lamb

horace silver makes some important decisions...

the wizards

jack nitzsche

ruth copeland

breezin'

i love the shot in the beginning of the guy holding out the one note on his string synth! somewhere i have the 45 of gabor and bobby womack doin' this tune...

spoon collections

crossroads music

during the 5 year stretch that i lived in portland, oregon, i spent quite a bit of time sifting through lps in this store. i never came away empty handed after a visit to crossroads!

negative fusion

jazz forum

james gadson quilt

carole king

carol kaye

laura nyro

native funk and flash

sea ranch chapel

flip the cassette

sausalito houseboats