I haven’t posted these guys in a couple of years. This one hits you from the start. With that title of the song, I had to post this one. I posted a song called The End by them in 2023, and this album has been on my playlist since. At the time, I couldn’t decide which song to write about, so I came back to this one.
The member I have covered the most out of this band is an artist named Alejandro Escovedo, a Texas singer-songwriter who has been around since the early seventies. I’ve had their album The Pawn Shop Years on my playlist for a couple of years now, and it’s fantastic. The band was named after the T. Rex song Buick MacKane and I see the similarities.
Buick MacKane was essentially Alejandro Escovedo stepping away from the more polished feel of his solo work and into something looser and louder. The band’s album The Pawn Shop Years was recorded quickly, with a live feel, and this song fits right into that approach. Buick MacKane was a way for Escovedo to reconnect with the bar-band energy he came up with in earlier groups like Rank and File and The True Believers.
They formed in 1989 and began perfecting songs live that would be recorded and released in 1997. They mostly played around Austin, and they were a mix of garage and glam rock… and it sounds great. Escovedo had just broken up with his band The True Believers when all of this happened. They were popular in Austin, and they had some trouble getting people to accept Buick MacKane because they thought it would be The True Believers part two.
If you want to hear a 1990s rock album that sounds like the early seventies…this is the one. Instead of checking out a few songs…check out the album. I also included the album below on Spotify.
Alejandro Escovedo –“People say, ‘Man, there aren’t bands like you guys anymore,’ and it’s nice, because there’s a lot of this kinda hippie stuff, and then every girl has a guitar and hates men. And we just wanna rock, you know.”
I can’t find a live version of this song…But The End is a great one as well.
It’s been a long while since I posted a Cat Stevens number. One of the first albums I had was Tea For The Tillerman. I got it for one song, Wild World but heard so many others off the album that were just as good. His music makes me feel calm and relaxed, but not in a boring way.
The song grew out of Stevens’ surroundings at this time. Britain was changing fast, with a lot of focus on growth and progress. He started questioning what was being traded away. Instead of writing a protest song in the usual sense, he kept it simple. The lyrics ask a question and then keep circling back to it: What happens when everything is built up, and there’s no space left for kids to just be kids?
Musically, it’s stripped down. Acoustic guitar carries most of it, with light orchestration that never gets in the way. That was part of the approach Stevens and producer Paul Samwell-Smith used on the album. Let the song do the work. No excess, no push. It sounds calm, but the message underneath it isn’t.
What’s interesting is how the song has held up. It wasn’t released as a major single, but it became one of the key tracks on Tea for the Tillerman. Over time, it’s been picked up in films, environmental discussions, and documentaries because the song is still relevant. The idea of progress versus what gets lost along the way hasn’t gone anywhere.
He just asked the question and left it there for us to decide. That’s probably why people keep coming back to it.
As most of you know, I’m a huge fan of dogs and animals in general. Will I hug a King Cobra? No, but I do love animals. Dogs (yes, I’m counting the prairie variety as well) are part of that list, and I’ve probably been closer to dogs than to any other animal. I started to think…hmmm…what are some songs that were about dogs? I’ll keep this brief except for the Neil Young description…he rambles a bit.
The Bottle Rockets – I Love My Dog
The Bottle Rockets came out of Festus, Missouri, in the early 1990s. They were part of the wave that later got labeled alt-country. At the time, it was just a bunch of bands mixing country, rock, and whatever else they grew up on. Brian Henneman had been around the scene already, even doing a stint as a guitar tech and occasional player for Uncle Tupelo, which put him right in the middle of that movement as it was forming.
Just a person, and their dog, and the sense that the dog might be the most dependable thing in their life. There is some humor in this, but it never turns into a jokey kind of song. I also love the jangle that came with this song. I’m going to revisit this band in the future. It’s hard to resist this video, especially with Carlene Carter and her dog Sparky starting it off!
This is such a cool video and song. Many happy humans, along with their owners.
Cat Stevens – I Love My Dog
This song was released in 1966 as a single and the following year on Stevens’ debut album Matthew and Son. He wrote the lyrics to the music of Yusef Lateef’s song The Plum Blossom. He credited the song to Lateef, and they shared the songwriting royalties. The song peaked at #28 in the UK, #47 in Canada, and #118 on the Billboard 100 in 1966.
Beatles – Martha My Dear
Our Saint Bernard was named after this song. Paul McCartney wrote this song about his English Sheepdog. Paul got the dog in 1966, and Martha lived a long life with Paul until 1981. Paul had Martha’s descendants, but I’m not sure about them currently. Paul has said that the riff to this song is one of the most difficult ones he came up with on piano. The song has a special place in my household. In fact, she is under my feet now as I type this.
Neil Young – Old King
This one is about Neil’s dog named Elvis. It was released in 1992 on the Harvest Moon album. This Neil Young quote is from a concert talking about this song. It’s rambling…but it’s Neil!
Neil Young: “This a song about my dog. His name is Elvis. Elvis is riding on Jimi Hendrix’s bus now. He traveled with me for many years. Well, I changed his name to ‘King’ in the song to avoid any confusion. Elvis had quite a nose. That was his whole thing, was his nose. But, you know, he was very sensitive about it. I’ll tell you a little story about him. He used to go on the road with me all the time, and, you know, he kind of smelled like a hound, ’cause… he was a hound. But it smelled good to him, and uh, you know, we would take him to a veterinarian’s place or something, and they’d clean him up a little bit so when he got on the bus, he wasn’t too comfy, you know?
After a while we all kind of got used to each other on the bus, so it was okay, but right at first he was a little strong, so. . . so anyway, once, uh, someone took him that usually doesn’t take him and took him to some fifi dog place. He came back smelling, uh, kinda like some bad toilet paper or something? Non-environmental and all. It had this odor to it that was like,(groaning)’oh no, wow.’ He kind of smelled like one of those things that hang on people’s mirrors, you know, that smell? Anyway, it was bad for me, but to him it was hell, ’cause he was, you know, sensitive.
And uh, so I was sleeping on the side of the road, I was on my way out to Eureka, California to play this gigantic gig… And ah, uh, you know, he woke me up, it was about six o’clock in the morning, I get this nose, you know, ‘snnnfff, snnnffff, snnff, snnff,’ He woke me up… I’m going, ‘What’s happening?
It’s this, this big nose, it’s lookin’ at me, kinda, you know, desperate. You know, I said, ‘God, you smell terrible. You stink.’ And he knew he stunk. He wanted off the bus. He said, ‘I want to go roll in some cowshit on the side of the road.So, you know, he was a smart dog, and he was purebred, actually, he was a beautiful hound, and uh, he had all his senses that he needed, he knew how to get back. You know, hounds will circle, uh, an area, and keep going in wider and wider circles, and they count how many times, somehow they know how many times they’ve been around it, so when they come back in they just count it like the, like the lifelines on a tree or somethin’, you know, you just come right back in and, right to the core and that’s where you started from, you know. Anyway, he knew that. He taught me that. And uh, so, I said, ‘Okay Elvis, take a shot.
He took off, I let him go. And uh, there’s only one thing that can go wrong if you do that. That’s if it rains, then, and then he can’t find his way back, ’cause he can’t smell over the little rains, you know. He just loses it. So, he lost it, he got lost. It’s like three o’clock in the afternoon, we’re still waiting for him to come back, and we gotta go to the gig pretty soon or we’re gonna be late, you know, and I’m going, ‘Shit, I lost my dog. What am I gonna tell everybody?’ You know, I can’t leave him behind, I can’t, you know, what can I do? So I went out hunting for him.
There was a railroad track there, and I walked up and down the railroad track. I was going all by myself up there, from the railroad track, (in a loud, anguished shriek) ‘Elvis!!!!’ And uh, I couldn’t hear a thing, not a hound around, and uh, so I gave up after a while, ’cause this Rolling Stone guy was following me around, taking random notes. You know, I saw him write it down, you know, I was out on this railroad track in the middle of nowhere yelling out Elvis, and uh, so I got, I knew that wouldn’t be good for my image.
“So I went back to the bus, and uh, I got out my lucky shirt, which I don’t have with me tonight, you may have noticed. I know, but it’s too hot for my lucky shirt. So anyway, I, he, I took it out there, and I put it down by the bowl, put his bowl out there, and left the shirt; he’d come back eventually, you know, find his way back to the shirt. And I’d figured after the gig I could come back. So, I get back on the bus to take off. So I’m leaving, and this guy in a pick up truck pulls up and says, ‘Hey Neil, what’re you doing?’ Well, so, I told him, I’m not gonna tell it again here, I told him, and then, uh, then uh, he said ‘Well that’s okay, Neil, I’ll, me and, I’ll go get my wife, and we’ll wait, we’ll wait right here until he comes back, and then we’ll bring him to you in Eureka.’
“I said, ‘Wow, what a great guy, you’re, you’re great.’ Yeah, so he did. You know, so I took off, and uh, just before, uh, I was about half an hour late – nothin’ like Guns n’ Roses or nothin’, but uh. . . but I lost my dog… What did they lose, you know what I mean? So, uh, so I, so I got there. Ah, hey, that’s rock n’ roll, you gotta do what you do. And ah, you know, just as I was going on he called me and said they found him.
Pink Floyd – Seamus
This blues song goes beyond writing a song about a dog. It features a dog singing! This song was on the 1971 album Meddle. The band was moving away from the early psychedelic singles and into longer, more intricate pieces, and this track, though, shows another side built around a simple, short blues pattern.
The song was about and featured Steve Marriott’s dog Seamus, whom Gilmour was dog-sitting for. Gilmour played the harmonica while Seamus was howling away. So that I’m straight on this…seventies rock stars dog sat! I would have never guessed.
I’m playing this loud…Martha is looking around everywhere.
I’ve wanted to revisit Jerry Jeff Walker for a long time. I picked an easy one, but the song has always meant a lot to me. It’s for the personal connection that I picked this one. I first heard this song by the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band, but I love this version as well. Only a few songs can make me feel emotional, and this one does. The song gets me emotionally involved with the story, and then comes the line, his dog up and died. I can feel that, and it hurts every time.
The inspiration for the song started in the mid-60s, before Walker was known. He was passing through New Orleans and ended up spending a night in a jail cell on a minor charge. While there, he met an older man who began talking to pass the time. The man said his name was Mr. Bojangles, not his real name, but as something he used to avoid giving his identity to the police.
During the conversation, the man talked about his life as a street dancer. He described performing for tips, moving from place to place, and how he used dance to get by. At one point, the mood shifted. He spoke about his dog that had died, and how that loss affected him. Then, almost as a way to break the tension in the cell, he started tapping and dancing a little. This meeting stayed with Walker.
After getting out, Walker wrote the song based on that encounter. He didn’t try to document the man exactly. Instead, he shaped the story into something broader, a character built from memory. The name itself came from the man’s habit of using it in place of his real one, which also echoed the stage name of dancer Bill Robinson, though the song is not about Robinson. I thought it was when I found out about Robinson.
This song has stood the test of time. I hardly use that worn-out phrase, but it does. Just like some movies are classics, this is because of that story. It’s a great story song, and you get a full look at the characters. It’s some excellent songwriting in that.
Walker was born in New York but drifted around the country in the 60s. In the early 1970s, Walker relocated to Austin, Texas, where he became part of the burgeoning outlaw country music scene. He helped define that genre. He was part of the Texas songwriters such as Willie Nelson, Guy Clark, and Townes Van Zandt. He is not technically a natural-born Texas singer-songwriter, but he is remembered by many as one.
Walker recorded the first version of the song, and it peaked at #77 on the Billboard 100 in 1968. The Nitty Gritty Dirt Band recorded their version the next year, releasing it in 1970, and it peaked at #9 on the Billboard 100, #2 in Canada, and #2 in New Zealand in 1971.
Mr Bojangles
I knew a man Bojangles and he’d dance for you In worn out shoes Silver hair and ragged shirt and baggy pants He did the old soft shoe He jumped so high He jumped so high Then he’d lightly touch down
I met him in a cell in New Orleans I was down and out He looked to me to be the eyes of age As he spoke right out He talked of life He talked of life He laughed slapped his leg a step
He said the name Bojangles and he danced A lick across the cell He grabbed his pants a better stance Then he jumped so high He clicked his heels He let go a laugh oh he let go a laugh Shook back his clothes all around
He danced for those at minstrel shows and county fairs Throughout the South He spoke with tears of fifteen years how his dog And him traveled about His dog up and died He up and died After twenty years he still grieves
He said I dance now at every chance in honky-tonks For drinks and tips But most o’ the time I spend behind these county bars Hell I drinks a bit He shook his head and as he shook his head I heard someone ask him please
This is not a “great” movie but a very entertaining one.
This 2000 movie has two of my favorite elements, time travel and baseball. It’s NOT about baseball, but the 1969 World Series was used as a talking point and to prove a point. This movie has a cool twist on time travel. No one walks into the future or past, but father and son talk on a ham radio 30 years apart. That World Series is used in a way that convinced the dad that his son was talking to him over a ham radio 30 years in the future.
This movie, overall, is a good vibe movie. Yes, things work out more than they probably should, but it’s just that kind of movie. I love the way they communicate 30 years apart. There are many twists and turns, but it pays off at the end. So if you want a dark, dark movie (it does have dark spots), this one is not for you, but it’s not overly sweet either. The actors did great. Dennis Quaid, Jim Caviezel, Elizabeth Mitchell, and others were on target.
It begins in 1999. John Sullivan is a New York City police detective still affected by the death of his father, who died in a warehouse fire in 1969. One night, during a rare solar event, John discovers that his father’s old ham radio is picking up a signal from the past. He soon realizes he is speaking directly to Frank (his father) in 1969. At first, they test the connection with personal details. John tells Frank (his dad) about the 1969 World Series and what happened. Frank doesn’t believe him at first, but soon does, and his life is saved.
Once convinced, John warns Frank about the fire that will kill him the next day. Frank listens, changes his actions, and survives. When the timeline shifts, John wakes up in a new version of 1999 where his father lived longer, but other events have changed. Saving Frank sets off a chain reaction. In the altered timeline, John’s mother is murdered by a serial killer who was active in 1969.
John and Frank, now aware of their link across time, work together to track the killer in both eras. John uses modern police records to guide his father’s investigation into the past, while Frank gathers evidence that affects the future. Their actions create more changes, sometimes helping, sometimes making things worse. The film moves between 1969 and 1999 as both men close in on the suspect. In the final act, events from both timelines converge, leading to a confrontation that resolves the case and restores their family.
Frequency avoids complicated science explanations. The radio connection simply exists, tied to solar activity. The crime plot gives the story tension, but the center remains the conversations between a father and son who were given one more opportunity to speak. Overall, it’s a time-travel feel-good movie…and I’m a sucker for time-travel movies.
If you want to see where we are…HERE is a list of the episodes.
On the surface, I thought what a great idea, but then, as the show progressed, I saw how evil it could be.
This one is one of The Prisoner episodes that looks simple on the surface, then keeps getting stranger the longer you sit with it. Number Six is dragged into the Village’s latest civic craze, a bright, friendly educational program called “Speed Learn.” It’s sold as progress, a way to teach people anything in 3 minutes, and the whole place treats it like the future has arrived. Number Six doesn’t buy it. He watches how quickly people accept it, how eager they are to be improved, and he starts asking the one question the Village never wants asked: who benefits?
The episode turns into a battle over information, and not in the usual spy-movie way. Speed Learn isn’t just about learning faster; it’s about removing the messy parts of thinking, doubt, and choice. The most important part is: what are they going to encode in the machine for you to learn? Number Six pushes back by doing what he always does…he refuses to play along. The deeper he digs, the clearer it becomes that the message is all about control. Either you think like everyone else, or you are out of bounds.
By the end, this episode feels like a warning. It’s not about technology being evil; it’s about how easily it becomes a shortcut to obedience when it’s run by the wrong hands. The episode keeps its tone light on purpose, but the point is blunt. A society that treats knowledge like a product can also treat people like human containers. Number Six’s resistance shows the one thing they can’t fully automate and control… a mind that won’t surrender.
I thought the ending could have been better with this one. That doesn’t mean I didn’t like it, though. This episode also urges caution regarding the up-and-coming computer age. I was thinking of TikTok while watching this episode. Be Seeing You!
There is a reason I like SNL’s first 5 seasons the best, and to me, they never came near that again. Were some of the later seasons just as funny or funnier? Yes, they were, but more rigidly controlled. Why am I bringing this up on a Replacements post? One word…Risk. I like it when actors, comedians, and musicians are on the edge. You know good and well it could break apart at any moment, but somehow they manage to pull it back together at the last minute. Artists who take chances and run the risk of running off the road are exciting. Sometimes a chaos grenade needs to be pitched in to liven things up. No bigger chaos grenade than the Replacements musically.
One thing that took me a while to learn when I played in various bands, it’s alright to mess up (I don’t mean stupid mental mistakes). As long as you were trying to push the song forward, take chances. I’ve been on stage when a song falls apart. Not a good feeling, but you learn from those things. I noticed the crowd always loved it when you tried different things on the edge.
The crowd was not musicians, but they could feel a car wreck coming, but more often than not, it didn’t come and was pulled back between the lines…but it was the thought of watching a train/car wreck. In other words, the phrase “playing with fire” came into play, but it paid off so many times. After a while, you can control the chaos when you conquer your fear of making mistakes. Then it becomes second nature, and you know how to progress, and the mistakes stop, but the thought/energy doesn’t…so we learned to risk it from time to time. I guess that is why I love the Replacements so much…they perfected that energy. I first learned it from The Who.
The Replacements are famous for that mentality. Everything sounds like it could fall apart, and that’s exactly the point. This song is the opening track from the album Tim from 1985. The Replacements had already built a reputation for mixing chaos with something close to truth. It doesn’t ease you in; it drops you right into the middle of the chaos.
The recording came during sessions with producer Tommy Erdelyi, better known as Tommy Ramone. The Ramones drummer pushed the band toward to something tighter, but you can still hear and feel the sharp edges. I always liked the line “Hold my life until I’m ready to use it.” It sounds like a throwaway at first, but it stuck with me. Back then, it sounded like an attitude. Now it sounds more like a question. There’s frustration in it, maybe a sense of being stuck between wanting control and not knowing what to do with it.
This album was their first major label release on Sire Records in 1984. This would be the last album by the original band because Bob Stinson would be kicked out a couple of years later. Tim was placed 136th on Rolling Stone’s 2003 list of the 500 greatest albums of all time, and 137th in a 2012 revised list. The album peaked at #186 on the Billboard Album Chart in 1986.
Hold My Life
Oooo well, well, well I bought it Down on all fours Let me crawl If I want I Could die Oh by My hand Time for decisions to be made Crack up in the sun Lose it in the shade
Razzle dazzle razzle droll Time for this one to come home Razzle dazzle razzle die Time for this one to come alive And hold my life Until I’m ready to use it Hold my life Because I just might lose it Because I just might lose it Because I just might lose it
Well, well, well Anyone could tell Classic awe A lucky shot Ooo-leh-do Hate ’em Someday soon Face ’em Time for decisions to be made Crack up in the sun Lose it in the shade
Razzle dazzle razzle droll Time for this one to come home Razzle dazzle razzle die Time for this one to come alive And hold my life Until I’m ready to use it Hold my life Because I just might lose it Because I just might lose it Because I just might lose it
Just my, just my, just my We might crack up in the sun But we’ll lose it in the shade
Razzle dazzle razzle droll Time for this one to come home Razzle dazze razzle die Time for this one to come alive And hold my life Until I’m ready to use it Hold my life Because I just might lose it Because I just might lose it Hold my life Hold my life Hold my, hold my, hold my, hold my, hold
I wrote about these guys a year or so ago, and I’ve continued to listen to them. The way I describe them is 90s alt-country mixed with Big Star. You literally get Big Star, Wilco, Uncle Tupelo, and The Jayhawks in this band…plus a member of the Replacements.
The Golden Smog started as a loose collaboration of Minneapolis-based musicians who got together to play cover songs under pseudonyms. The name Golden Smog comes from a character in a Flintstones episode. The band initially played country and rock covers, but it evolved into a serious musical project over time.
Membership in this band has been fluid. They have had Chris Mars (Replacements drummer), Jeff Tweedy (Wilco), Louris and Perlman of The Jayhawks, Dave Primer from Soul Asylum, and more. Also in 1997, Jody Stephens became their drummer. He was an original member of Big Star.
This song, to my surprise, was first released by a band from the early seventies called Michaelangelo. They were a baroque-folk band around that time. This song was on their 1971 album One Voice Many.
Lyrically, it is very interesting. A mom sends her son a letter, and he is unsure whether to send a reply and tell her the truth about how he is doing…and it’s not good.
This song was released on their debut EP, On Golden Smog, in 1992. Altogether, they have released 1 EP and 4 albums, with the latest one in 2007 and a “Best Of” package in 2008. They reunited in 2019 and played together last year with Jeff Tweedy.
Son (We’ve Kept Your Room Must the Way You Left It)
Hello Mom, I’m fine, where the sun is dyin’ How’s the weather around my old hometown? You seem to worry about my livin’, you say that all’s forgiven What’s lost is bound to be found
I hope you don’t expect to see me ‘Cause you know I’m very far away You know I really miss you But a man’s gotta make it on his own someday
Sue, she sends her greetings ’bout the school and civic meetings Says she’s doin’ well in her cell Yeah, her brother’s won the race now And he’s proud to show his face now ‘Round the corner scene in his paper-doll dreams
And me, I guess I’m livin’ Takin’ what’s for the livin’ Oh, Mom, you know how I really wish You could see what’s on my mind, yeah
Yeah, I guess it’s kinda lonely, and I’ve been uptight for money But I’ll make it on my own, stayin’ high You seem upset about the drugs and things I guess I’ve finally found my wings It’s my way to be free, don’t think you failed in me
Someday, you’ll understand all this Just what it is I mean to say Just don’t try and love me I don’t wanna see you hurt this way
Yes, I’ll be ignorin’, makes a guy feel free Knowin’ that somebody cares somewhere
Mama, can I mail this and let you know I failed? It’s just not right somehow, oh no I’d rather let you think I’m dead than hung on drugs instead I’m dyin’ anyhow, and it’s too late now
And I guess there’s a moral somewhere But I can’t seem to think just now If I had to do it over Guess I’d try to change the trial somehow
Lord, it’s really hell when you’re livin’ in a spell And nothing’s like it seems in a cocaine dream
Finding Guy Clark in the past few years has been amazing. Song after song that I can relate to with words that always fit. I lost my dad in 2005, so I can totally relate to this song. I have some of his tools for making guitars and an old wooden case he made for them. This song brought back a lot of memories. This song is a true storysong in every sense of the word. I’m usually a little more hesitant on partial talking songs…but this one is a winner.
The song was on the album Dublin Blues, which was released in 1995. The musicians on this album were staggering. Rodney Crowell, Ramblin’ Jack Elliot, Nanci Griffith, Emmylou Harris, Kathy Mattea, and more. This song closed the album, and that’s where it belongs because it would have been hard to follow this song.
The song centers on a knife passed down from his father, a Randall Made Knives blade with history behind it. Clark doesn’t treat it like an object; it’s more like a stand-in for memory and loss. He talks about using it, holding it, and what it meant to his dad. By the end, the knife becomes a way of holding on to someone who’s gone.
The arrangement stays simple, and nothing pulls attention from the lyric. You can hear the same mindset in writers like Townes Van Zandt and Steve Earle, where detail matters more than volume. Every line feels and is important.
It’s about one knife, one father, one set of memories. But it doesn’t stay there. Anyone who’s held on to something after losing someone will recognize it. Clark never says more than he needs to, and that’s the reason it holds up.
The Randall Knife
My father had a Randall knife My mother gave it to him When he went off to World War II To save us all from ruin Now if you’ve ever held a Randall knife You’ll know my father well And if a better blade was ever made It was probably forged in hell
My father was a good man He was a lawyer by his trade And only once did I ever see Him misuse the blade Well, it almost cut his thumb off When he took it for a tool The knife was made for darker things You could not bend the rules
Well, he let me take it camping once On a Boy Scout jamboree And I broke a half an inch off Trying to stick it in a tree Well, I hid it from him for a while But the knife and he were one He put it in his bottom drawer Without a hard word one
There it slept and there it stayed For 20 some odd years Sort of like Excalibur Except waiting for a tear
My father died when I was 40 And I couldn’t find a way to cry Not because I didn’t love him Not because he didn’t try Well, I’d cried for every lesser thing Whiskey, pain and beauty But he deserved a better tear And I was not quite ready
So we took his ashes out to sea And poured ’em off the stern And then threw the roses in the wake Of everything we’d learned And when we got back to the house They asked me what I wanted Not the law books, not the watch I need the things he’s haunted
My hand burned for the Randall knife There in the bottom drawer And I found a tear for my father’s life And all that it stood for
In the past few years, I’ve learned more about this group of musicians. The first time I noticed Delaney and Bonnie was in the great movie Vanishing Point.
There’s a carefree spirit to Comin’ Home that feels like a blend of Rock, Soul, and Blues. It was released in 1969 on On Tour with Eric Clapton, and after listening to the album…I wish I could have seen that tour. Delaney & Bonnie were leading a rotating group of talented players at the time, and you can hear that sense of a band finding its way together perfectly.
By this time, they had built a strong live band that mixed rock, gospel, and soul, and it caught the attention of Eric Clapton, who was looking for a way out of the pressure surrounding Blind Faith. Clapton joined their touring group, not as a headline name, but as part of the band. He also occasionally brought his friend George Harrison to join in.
Clapton’s guitar work sits along with his work with Blind Faith at the time. The sound tilts toward gospel and Southern soul, which makes for some great roots music. The tour itself ran through the UK in December 1969, with a lineup that was deep to say the least! The backing band featured Leon Russell, Delaney Bramlett, Bonnie Bramlett, Rita Coolidge, Dave Mason, Bobby Whitlock, Carl Radle, Jim Gordon, George Harrison (on some shows), Tex Johnson, Bobby Keys, and Jim Price.
If you wanted a big tour back then, you grabbed Leon Russell. He would soon be on the notorious Mad Dogs and Englishmen tour of Joe Cocker. The recordings were taken from shows in cities like London and Birmingham, captured on the fly rather than built in a studio. Producer credit went to Delaney Bramlett, and the goal was simple: to document the band as it sounded in the room.
What gets me is the looseness of the recordings. Songs like Things Get Better and Only You Know and I Know stretch out, driven by Russell’s piano, while Clapton adds fills and does his thing.
The album also mattered for what came next. Clapton carried this experience forward into Derek and the Dominos, both in personnel and in feel. The Dominos were all in this band except Duane Allman. The idea of a band built around feel and fluidity hit home for Clapton. He would not be the spotlight of that band, just a member. In that sense, On Tour with Eric Clapton works as a bridge record, a live document of one group, and the starting point for another.
You want to listen to a great live album that sounds like the musicians are in the room with you? Listen to this album and hear some of the greatest musicians of the era. The album peaked at #29 on the Billboard Album Charts and #12 in Canada in 1969. The single Comin’ Home peaked at #84 on the Billboard 100 and #55 in Canada.
Comin’ Home
Been out on the road ’bout six months too long. I want you so bad, I can hardly stand it. I’m so tired and I’m all alone. We’ll soon be together and that’s it; I’m comin’ home to your love.
Hitchhiking on the turnpike all day long. Nobody seemed to notice, they just pass me on by. To keep from going crazy, I got to sing my song. Got a whole lot of loving and baby that’s why I’m comin’ home to your love.
I love this genre…I made Part 1 a couple of years ago, but never followed up. Sometimes soul blends with pop and is closely related to R&B. Below are a few that I have always liked.
Freda Payne – Band Of Gold
I’ve always liked this song. It’s a bit of a soap opera but it’s a really good soul song. The song peaked at #3 on the Billboard 100 in 1970. The guitar had a rubberband-type effect that was used in this song.
Because of the subject matter, Freda Payne did not want to record this at first. She thought the song was about a woman who was a virgin or sexually naïve and felt it was more suitable for a teenager. When Payne objected to this song, Ron Dunbar (co-writer of the song) said to her, “Don’t worry. You don’t have to like them! Just sing it,” and she did. Little did she know that this song would become her biggest hit and would give her her first record of gold.
Aretha Franklin – Baby I Love You
This is my personal favorite song of Aretha Franklin…and she has a boatload of great songs to pick from. She could bring soul to You Light Up My Life and THAT is saying something. I’ve said this a lot but Aretha Franklin and Janis Joplin are my top female singers.
This Aretha Franklin song was released in 1967 and it was on the Aretha Arrives album. It peaked at #4 on the Billboard 100, #3 in Canada, and #39 in the UK in 1967. Her sisters Carolyn and Erma provided backing vocals along with the Sweet Inspirations, an R&B girl group founded by Cissy Houston. Musicians who were featured on the track included engineer Tom Dowd and Muscle Shoals players Jimmy Johnson and Joe South on guitars, Tommy Cogbill on bass, Spooner Oldham on electric piano, and Roger Hawkins on drums. Truman Thomas also played the organ.
Franklin recorded this with Atlantic producer Jerry Wexler in New York City during the same session as Chain Of Fools. The song was written by Ronnie Shannon, who was also responsible for another hit for Aretha with I Never Loved A Man (The Way I Love You).
Temptations – I Wish It Would Rain
It sure got A LOT of play when I went through my first real hard breakup. You break up with someone…the Temptations have your back. Their greatest hits were more like advice than songs, which I loved.
David Ruffin sings this song, and you can feel the sadness and pain in his voice. The man had a tremendous voice. Naming my favorite Temptations song would be hard, but this one would be near the top.
The song has been covered by Gladys Knight and the Pips, Marvin Gaye, Aretha Franklin and The Faces. This song was released right before the psychedelic soul hit Cloud Nine, and the band’s style began to change.
Stevie Wonder – I Was Made To Love Her
Of all Stevie Wonder songs…this one is at the top of the list for me.
Anything Stevie does, I like. Sometimes when I hear a song, it takes a few times for me to like it, but this one…hooked me the first time. This song peaked at #2 on the Billboard 100, #5 in Canada, and #5 in the UK Charts in 1967. The song was written by Wonder, Lula Mae Hardaway, Henry Cosby, and Sylvia Moy. Lula Mae Haraway was Stevie Wonder’s mother.
Jimmy Ruffin – What Becomes of the Broken Hearted
Jimmy Ruffin was the brother of then Temptation David Ruffin. This was written by Motown writers Jimmy Dean, Paul Riser, and William Witherspoon. They wrote it for The Detroit Spinners, but Ruffin convinced the Motown writers to let him try it, and they liked what they heard.
I think Motown has been the soundtrack to more breakups than anyone else. This song peaked at #7 in the Billboard 100 in 1966. The great Smokey Robinson produced this track. He worked on many Motown classics as an artist, writer, and producer. This would be Jimmy’s biggest hit of his career.
If you want to see where we are…HERE is a list of the episodes.
I highly recommend this one. The episode is grounded in behavioral science, and there’s something very unsettling about this one. It’s a little too real. Number 6 awakens to discover he’s grown a mustache, his hair is darker, and he’s left-handed. Oh, and now he’s Number 12 (6+6 = 12). I like many of these episodes, but this might be my favorite episode. I do give some things away in this review; it’s hard not to with this one.
Having a character encounter their double is a common movie or television ploy (even two of the castaways on “Gilligan’s Island” met their doubles), but few examples are as effective as Number Six confronting his spitting, smirking image. It’s not just one of the best interrogation episodes but one of the best I’ve seen. Number 6 and Number 12 are going at it.
They try to break him by splitting his life in two. The Village creates a “new” Number Six who smiles, cooperates, and actually fits in, while the other one is treated like a problem. It’s about making Six doubt himself and making his resistance look like he’s insane.
Number Six wakes up after being drugged and tampered with. When he awakens, he is not in his usual dwelling, and when he looks in a mirror, he sees his appearance has been altered with darker hair and a mustache. At the Green Dome, Number Two addresses him as ‘Number Twelve’, and acts as though he is on his side. Number Six is given his ‘orders’ to break himself! After having his hair dyed back to its original colour and the moustache shaved, Number Six returns to his original dwelling. Who should be in residence but…Number Six! Confused? Of course, the Number Six coming back is actually Number Twelve.
As he is released back into the Village, officials test him by placing him in situations meant to trigger his old defiant behavior. Each time, he hesitates or reacts differently, which convinces them the procedure worked. They assign him a new job and surround him with friendly villagers who reinforce his new identity. Meanwhile, viewers see the Control Room watching every move, adjusting the experiment as they go.
Over time, cracks appear. Small details bring back flashes of who he really is, and he begins to suspect the whole transformation is an act forced onto him. When the Village authorities push him too hard, his old instincts return. He confronts the people manipulating him and exposes that the “new identity” was created through psychological conditioning rather than real memory loss.
What makes this episode work is how it turns identity into a weapon. Number Six fights with logic and willpower, but he’s also fighting a system that is against him. The episode keeps the pressure on, then ends with the Village still ready for the next move.
This one was very hard to write up. It’s best to see it, and I think you will enjoy it. Some have ranked this as the top episode or at least in the top 3. Be Seeing You!
There’s no easing into She Gives Me Love. It hits fast and stays there. Released in 1986 on Hit by Hit, the track shows what The Godfathers were about in their early run: tight playing, sharp edges, and no interest in slowing down.
I listened to their first real album Birth, School, Work, Death, and it was fantastic. I then skipped around and listened to some songs throughout their career. Super band… they have a tough, rough Katie bar the door… no-holds-barred sound. I hear some Who, Kinks, Small Faces, Sloan, and other bands in them.
The main reason I like them…the hooks. They know how to develop and use great hooks in the right places. While you have the hooks and melodies, you also have the super-aggressive anger riding on top of everything. They mix it perfectly. In short… abrasive in-your-face rock.
The band, led by Peter Coyne and Chris Coyne, came out of the UK scene with a sound that pulled from R&B and stripped-down rock. You can hear that here. The guitars are direct, and the whole thing feels built for a small room turned up too loud. It doesn’t try to expand beyond that.
This is one I came across later, digging past the usual tracks people mention. It felt like finding something still wired tight after all these years. No buildup, no release, just straight through. Sometimes that’s all you need.
She Gives Me Love
Don’t claim to understand her I wonder what she’s doing with me Don’t know what she does with the rest of her time But she gives it to me for free
She gives me love She gives me love
She never takes my money But she always steals my time She’s the kind of a girl that if you gave her the world She’d say it wasn’t worth a dime
She gives me love She gives me love
It’s not easy to explain it The effect she has on me Make a dumb man talk and a blind man see That sweet little mystery
I have to thank obbverse for introducing this song. This song was on the 1976 album The Best Of The Band. It was also released as a non-album single in 1975, along with “The Weight” in the UK.
This is one I didn’t pay much attention to at first. It sat on that best of record surrounded by their giant songs. But over time, I would give it a listen or two. When obbverse mentioned it…I kept it on my playlist and realized how great a song it is. I also found an alternative version with Levon singing it. Something about Danko’s version, though, that makes it sound so personal.
The song was written by Robbie Robertson; like most Band material, it was shaped by everyone in the room. The sound is rooted in the group’s style, but the direction feels more centered.
Some bands have great voices and tight harmonies. The Beatles and The Beach Boys, to name a few, but The Band’s harmonies were loose, yet at the same time just as tight in their own way. They had that back porch and bluegrass sound. Their music sounded spontaneous, but it was well-crafted. They always left enough raw edge to keep it interesting.
Robbie Robertson’s words and melodies were Americana flowing through a Canadian who had part-Jewish and Native-Canadian roots. He would read one movie screenplay after another. It helped him with his songwriting to express the images he had in his head. Robbie also took stories Levon told him of the South and shaped them into songs.
Twilight
Over by the wildwood Hot summer night We lay in the tall grass Till the mornin’ light If I had my way I’d never Get the urge to roam But a young man serves his country An old man guards the home Don’t send me no silly salutations Or silly souvenirs from far away Don’t leave me alone in the twilight ‘Cause twilight is the loneliest time of day I never gave it a second thought It never crossed my mind What’s right and what’s not I’m not the judgin’ kind I can take the darkness, oh Storms in the skies But we all got certain trials Burnin’ up inside Don’t put me in a frame upon the mantel ‘Fore memories grow dusty old and gray You don’t leave me alone in the twilight ‘Cause twilight is the loneliest time of day And don’t leave me alone in the twilight ‘Cause twilight is the loneliest time of day
I heard this song while listening to Road Apples last year or so, and I knew I wanted to come back to it. A shout-out to deKe, who recommended this album to me. This one is such a beautiful and sad song. When I looked up the inspiration, I sadly understood.
There’s a quiet weight (best way I can describe it) to Fiddler’s Green that sets it apart in the catalog from what I heard of The Tragically Hip. It was released on Road Apples in 1991; it comes in soft and stays there. No huge dynamic, just a steady song that feels epic at times.
The song was written by Gord Downie after the loss of his 3 year old young nephew. That context explains the tone and meaning without needing to be spelled out in the lyrics. The band keeps the arrangement simple, light acoustic guitar, space between the notes, and a vocal that sounds like it’s being carried more than delivered. Producer Don Smith, who had worked with Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers, helped guide the sessions toward a more direct sound, and this track benefits from that restraint.
The album was recorded in New Orleans, and the environment shaped parts of the album, but this song feels separate from the rest. While other tracks were more into groove and band interplay, this song is kept simpler. It’s closer to a live recording in spirit, one voice, one guitar, and the room around it. The band understood it didn’t need more.
I didn’t hear this one right away when I first got into Road Apples. It was one of those tracks you come back to later, and it hits you differently. The first thing I thought was how different it was. The album peaked at #1 in Canada in 1991. The album had 6 singles released from it, but this one wasn’t one of them, and that is a shame.
I’m not an expert on this band, but after listening to the debut album and then this one. It sounded like a band settling into who they were. It’s an excellent album.
Fiddler’s Green
One, two, three, four, one, two
September seventeen For a girl I know it’s Mother’s Day Her son has gone alee And that’s where he will stay Wind on the weathervane Tearing blue eyes sailor-mean As Falstaff sings a sorrowful refrain For a boy in Fiddler’s Green
His tiny knotted heart Well, I guess it never worked too good The timber tore apart And the water gorged the wood You can hear her whispered prayer For men at masts that always lean The same wind that moves her hair Moves a boy through Fiddler’s Green
Oh, nothing’s changed anyway Oh, nothing’s changed anyway Oh, any time today
He doesn’t know a soul There’s nowhere that he’s really been But he won’t travel long alone No, not in Fiddler’s Green Balloons all filled with rain As children’s eyes turn sleepy-mean And Falstaff sings a sorrowful refrain For a boy in Fiddler’s Green
PowerPop... An Eclectic Collection of Pop Culture 