What Christmas Means To Me

This year I won’t be swamping you with many Christmas posts like I usually do, probably a relief to some…But I do really love Christmas. Because of work, I can’t post much through the week, but I’m going to try to get some in next weekend. This was written for Dave’s Turntable Talk, and the subject was What Christmas Means to Me. It was posted last week on his site. For those who didn’t see it…here it is. 

I remember Christmas when I was a young kid of around 4-5. We always had our Christmas on Christmas Eve. My family and I would have such a good time. We would start on Christmas Eve and go to my grandparents (my mom’s side) at around 5pm and eat, eat, and did I mention eat? Some of the kids there would get small gifts. Funny thing, though, my father would never go with us. It always puzzled me why he didn’t go and decided to stay at home. 

When we got home…Santa Claus would have miraculously already dropped by on Christmas Eve night! When I opened that door…it was a beautiful sight! A tree I had helped decorate with presents underneath. Also, with presents unwrapped and sitting around. The cookies I left out were always half-eaten.  I remember in my stockings I would get tangerines and oranges, as well as small gifts and candy. The tangerines were always cold. I just knew they were cold because they came from the North Pole. In different years, I remember the pinball machine, the Star Trek Enterprise bridge area toy, the Evel Knievel stunt motorcycle, albums, a record player, etc. My mom and dad were not rich by any means, and I wonder now how long they saved to give all of this stuff to Tammy (my sister) and me. Dad would be standing there and telling me he met Santa and helped him unload the sleigh. Ah! That was the reason he stayed at home, to help Santa. 

Soon after 1975, my mom and dad got divorced. Things changed in my life, and it sucked. I missed my dad being around, but my mom did her very best to be mother and father to my sister and me on an everyday basis. I would see Dad around 3 weeks or so a year. My mom didn’t like it when I went to his house a lot. Not because he was mean, abusive, or anything like that, but because of kidney stones and what he took to relieve the pain, and to excess. He had 70 stones in his life, and when he passed away in 2005, he still had two in him. It was the 1970s, and doctors gave him medicine to get up and to go to sleep, and he would self-medicate at times. He eventually got better and stopped that for the most part, but that was later on in the 1980s. He was never arrested or anything like that, or caused any trouble. He made guitars and musical instruments, and one time drove from Nashville to Los Angeles in 2 days without sleep.

The ONE time a year my entire family was together (every year) was Christmas. Mom and Dad never fought on Christmas (even right after the divorce), and they grew closer each year. Both got married again, but that never affected how they acted. So, to answer the question, Christmas is about family to me, and now, as the years pass, my mom and dad are always near me. That was the only time I saw them all together every year after the divorce. I’m fiercely protective about Christmas to this day. Until dad passed away, every Christmas, he would come down. He only missed one year, and it was because of an ice storm in the early 2000s. When Bailey was born in 2000, we all always had a great time, and it brought back memories of being a kid again. The only Christmas activity I changed was that Bailey had his Christmas on Christmas Day after waking up from Christmas Eve.

 I’ve been with Jennifer since 1993, and Bailey came along in 2000. We were together every single Christmas until around 2021 when Bailey went to Germany and be with his girlfriend. I argued with him about it. It’s probably the only argument we ever got into in his adult life. Yeah, I was wrong, but it was the history of it for me. I knew I had to let go…I told him…you could be gone for 364 other days, and I would be fine…but of course I got over it. He has alternated ever since. My sister, her son, his wife, and their children always come down as well.

Funny, my mom and dad almost got back together in the 90s, but my mom started to lose her memory at an early age (high blood pressure and mini strokes in her 40s), and it never happened. Mom and Dad ended up dying within 6 months of each other in 2005 – 2006. To this day, I think of mom and dad while Tammy comes down on Christmas Eve. I know it’s kinda unorthodox on how Christmas is to me, but it’s the truth. And…I wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world…so Merry Christmas to you all…and to mom and dad.

George Thorogood – Move It On Over

I first heard of George Thorogood when I watched the movie Christine back in the 1980s and the song Bad to the Bone. This song is what a grimy bar (not a dance club) in the 1980s sounded like…trust me. I forgot to thank Matt, who posted this Hank Williams song yesterday.

In this song, George rewires an old Hank Williams song and gives it some kick.  It leaves plenty of space for Thorogood’s overdriven slide guitar to bark and growl. The Destroyers keep things locked in, drums steady, bass walking just enough to keep the floor moving. There’s nothing fancy here, and that’s the point. Thorogood has always understood that blues rock works best when it sounds like it could fall apart at any second but never quite does.

In 1978, they were still an underground band, a hard-working bar band with national hopes and a deep love for old blues and boogie records. The album was only their second album, but it’s the record where everything fell into place. It was recorded quickly and cheaply; the album captured the band in near-live form, loud amps, and minimal overdubs. Thorogood had said he wanted energy, and the sessions matched that request.

The song was written by Hank Williams. This song was his first big hit. The song was written by the man himself. He released this song in 1947. Two years later, he received his invitation to join the Grand Ole Opry. This song was the title track for the album, released in 1978. The album peaked at #33 on the Billboard Album Charts, #29 in Canada, and #10 in New Zealand.

Move It On Over

I come in last night about half past tenThat baby of mine wouldn’t let me inSo move it on over, rock it on overMove over little dog, a mean, old dog is movin’ in

She told me not to mess aroundBut I done let the deal go downMove it on over, rock it on overMove over nice dog, a big, fat dog is movin’ in

She changed the lock on my back doorNow my key won’t fit no moreMove it on over, rock it on overMove over nice dog, a mean, old dog is movin’ in

She threw me out just as pretty as she pleasedPretty soon I’ve been scratchin’ fleasMove it on over, slide it on overMove over nice dog, a mean, old dog is movin’ in

Yeah, listen to me dog before you start to whineThat side’s yours and this side’s mineSo move it on over, rock it on overMove over little dog, a big, old dog is movin’ in

Yeah, she changed the lock on my back doorNow my key won’t fit no moreMove it on over, rock it on overMove over little dog, a big, old dog is movin’ in

Move it on overMove it on overMove it on over, won’tcha rock it on over?Move over cool dog, a hot dog’s movin’ in

Kolchak: The Night Stalker – Mr. R.I.N.G.

January 10, 1975 Season 1 Episode 12

If you want to see where we are…HERE is a list of the episodes.

***Since it’s the Christmas season and most people are watching seasonal programs and are rushing around, Kolchak will return on January 9th, 2026! I do apologize for the interruption, but I thought it was best. We only have 8 more to go.***

The episode centers on an escaped experimental android named Mr. R.I.N.G. (R.I.N.G. stands for Robomatic Internalized Nerve Ganglia), a government project that went off the rails. Kolchak stumbles onto the story because he missed the day before fishing, so a huge story was given to a co-worker. Kolchak was handed the chore of writing an obituary for a scientist.  But of course, he investigated it, and it was a murdered scientist that spiraled into a cover-up with secrecy, classified files, and shredded evidence. The threat here is technology running amok, walking the streets with a purpose no one fully understands. Mr Ring is basically AI before AI. He learns as he goes. 

The android itself is unsettling because it isn’t really bad. Unlike the show’s monsters, Mr. R.I.N.G. appears to be struggling to understand its own purpose and emotions. The more Kolchak uncovers, the clearer it becomes that the danger comes from the government forces that created it, not from the robot. This dynamic gives the episode a tragic feel, as though Kolchak is chasing a victim who never asked to be born. Frankenstein comes to mind with this show as well because the “monster” is trying to find itself and is not inherently bad. 

It feels close to Westworld, early Terminator, and a touch of The Stepford Wives.  Darren McGavin’s performance is especially sharp here, because Kolchak’s sarcasm bounces off humorless officials and tight-lipped agents who refuse to acknowledge anything out of the ordinary. His frustration grows as every lead is buried under regulations. One thing that is different in this episode is that Tony, his boss, is forced to believe in Kolchak this time. The government threatens the newspaper if Tony lets Kolchak continue investigating this. 

SPOILERS BELOW

The ending drives home the show’s theme: truth is buried by the system. Mr. R.I.N.G. is erased like a clerical error. Kolchak gets close to exposing everything, only to watch the evidence vanish once again. He is left with nothing except a story no one will print.

Trivia

A little trivia for you, the Tyrell Institute is used as the headquarters in this episode, and a decade later, the name would be used in Blade Runner. Many fans and critics view the Tyrell Institute in Kolchak as a direct precursor or inspiration for the Tyrell Corporation in Blade Runner, sharing themes of artificial life and corporate control over synthetic beings.

January 9th episode HERE.

“You shouldn’t like music that was made before you were born”

I thought I would do something different today. I was reminded of this by the phrase, “it was before my time.” Movies and music fall into this category. I do know people who will not watch movies made “before their time.” I don’t think many of my readers would agree to this statement, but who knows?

I had a co-worker in the early 2000s (Sam) tell me that I shouldn’t like music that was before my time because it was unnatural (yes, he said that). I was first kinda of amused and shocked. I like Sam a lot, and we would talk a lot; he is a smart fellow. However, on this point, I didn’t understand. Why? Is there some unwritten law that I can’t like 1950s or 1960s music up to 1967, when I was born?  That cut off some of the best music of the 20th century and beyond.

He grew up in the 80s, as I did,  and was probably around 5 or so years younger than me. I’ve seen other people act the same way. If it were before they were born, then they would not give it a second listen. If a movie is black and white, they act as if they are near a radiation leak!

 I think the subject centered around how I loved 50s and 60s music and The Beatles, The Who, The Stones, and The Kinks. He said I should be listening to music from my teenage years (well, I WAS…60s music was my soundtrack growing up), but I DID listen to the top 40 when I was a teenager, which, to me, didn’t live up to those bands to any degree or form. Maybe it wasn’t fair to compare Men Without Hats to those 1960s bands. It was hard to stomach some of the ’80s for me, but not all. Now I’m busy catching up on music I missed that wasn’t on Top 40 radio at the time. I did find an oasis in the 80s, alternative music like The Replacements and REM…and the classic bands.

I still want to find other music and movies I like. Why would age have any effect on the music, whether we like it or not? That doesn’t mean I don’t like new music. I have posted newer bands here before who have just released albums. If it’s good, it doesn’t matter what era it came from, at least not to me. Christian, Graham, and Lisa all posted some newer songs that I liked. With movies, yes, I find some I like. I just saw Weapons and loved it, plus there are others.

I’m not putting people down at all who think like that. Hey, if that is what they believe, more power to them. I never believed in criticizing people for their opinions, music, or otherwise. Whatever blows their hair back.

Anyway, what do you think? 

Kolchak: The Night Stalker – Horror in the Heights

December 20, 1974 Season 1 Episode 11

If you want to see where we are…HERE is a list of the episodes.

This episode is the most highly rated episode of the series. It is a good episode and will take you down the path where things are not what they seem. The setting is Roosevelt Heights, a Chicago neighborhood largely populated by elderly Jewish residents, and a series of gruesome killings quickly points to something beyond ordinary. Kolchak goes past the police explanations and discovers details about creatures from Indian folklore. It’s a darker, more atmospheric episode, leaning heavily into folklore.

The monster at the heart of the episode is a Raksasha, a shape-shifting demon from Hindu mythology. It doesn’t just kill; it appears to its victims as someone they trust, lowering their guard before striking. That twist gives the story tension, because every familiar face might not be what it seems. The creature’s appearance, when revealed, is not pretty. Kolchak learns the demon has been feeding on residents, and the community tensions spread in the neighborhood it making it easier for the monster. This reminds me of Pennywise from IT, who was also a shapeshifting creature.

As Kolchak digs deeper, he crosses paths with Mr. Furlin and a community group determined to protect their homes from crime, though they don’t realize the real threat isn’t human. When Kolchak finally confronts the Raksasha, the showdown relies on knowledge rather than brute force. I was relieved because I thought he might have made a mistake…But I won’t give that away.

What makes this episode stand out is that it isn’t just about a monster… It’s about a community losing trust in itself. The demon feeds not only on flesh, but on fear and isolation. With its blend of folklore and social tension, it remains one of the most memorable and unsettling episodes in the Kolchak series.

Get a head start on next week’s episode here.

Jesse Ed Davis – ¡Jesse Davis! …album review

I’ve heard of this guy for so long, associated with Taj Mahal and solo Beatles tracks. He played on over 80 albums of other artists. His guitar playing was top shelf and was truly one of the guitar greats. He doesn’t get the attention he deserves. My admitted lack of knowledge of him led me to think he could only play guitar. Much like last week’s Link Wray post, who I didn’t know could sing, he had a really good voice. I also want to thank Lisa from Tao-Talk for posting a Davis song last Friday. 

Jesse Ed Davis was Kiowa, Comanche, and Muscogee (Creek) on his father’s side, while his mother was of Kiowa and Cherokee descent with a small strand of European ancestry. In other words, he was overwhelmingly Native American, with family roots braided through several Plains and Southeastern tribes. He grew up connected to that identity, not as a stage costume, but as him. His dad painted the cover for this album. 

I started to go through his albums like ¡Jesse Davis!, Ululu, and Keep Me Comin or Keep On Coming. He has a couple more, which I still have to get to. I’m totally impressed by his rootsy music. Again, instead of just picking a song, I wanted to feature the album. There is no #1 hit on the album, nor do I think he was trying for that. Just really good, solid songs. 

When Jesse Ed Davis stepped into a studio to record his 1971 debut album ¡Jesse Davis!. He had already carved out a reputation as the guitarist you called when you wanted soul and a heavenly guitar tone, and most importantly, zero ego. He’d played with Taj Mahal, recorded with Gene Clark, and done sessions with everyone from Albert King to Earl Hooker, Jackson Browne, John Lennon, and a ton of other artists. Jesse was the go-to guitarist of the 1970s. 

How respected was he? On this album, he had some incredible guests. Eric Clapton, Leon Russell, Gram Parsons, Alan White, and the Gimme Shelter singer Merry Clayton. This album sounds like a loose jam session that worked all the way around. My favorite song on the album is Washita Love Child. It just hit me and has stuck. I found myself hitting the play button again and again. The band around him cooks with an irresistible looseness. You can hear Clapton on his track loud and clear. After researching for this post, I found out it was featured on the TV show  Reservation Dogs. 

The album works because it stays out of its own way. Lou Adler keeps the production loose and moving. Leon Russell arranged some of the songs and added his unique touch. The songs drift between blues, roots rock, and a kind of West Coast soul. Reno Street Incident floats in like someone cracked open a window at two in the morning. Every Night Is Saturday Night for Me comes alive with Leon’s piano, rolling forward like only Leon can do. And when Gram Parsons or Eric Clapton pop up, they don’t hijack the song; they simply join in.

What really holds everything together is Jesse’s guitar, a voice unto itself. He never shows off, he never “shreds,” he simply plays for the song. His solos feel lived in and warm. He didn’t shout to be heard; he just played. Hearing him play and sing on this album is like slipping into a holey, comfortable favorite shirt.

The album doesn’t scream commercial…it doesn’t scream at all. It’s an album you put on and listen to all the way through, and sit back and enjoy some great music. Jesse Ed Davis passed away in 1988 at the young age of 43. 

I added a 10-minute documentary clip.

Washita Love Child

I was born on the bank
in the Washitaw river
in a Kiowa Comanche teepee

Daddy had a hard time
Mama made his eyes shine
Lord, it was just us three
Well they weaned me riding bareback
And I’d tie my hair back
And i did that pow wow thang
Daddy showed up with his stand up guitar
and then we rocked it i believe

I’m a love child
and I’m running wild
hope it don’t take too long
I’m a love you
I’m a try to make you happy
you got to let me sing my song

Mama said to son
Said what about your school books?
Baby baby what about the draft?
Daddy said honey don’t you worry about this boy he’s headed somewhere
Got a guitar and a van to ride

He’s a love child
He’s gonna be running wild
Hope he don’t take too long
He’s gonna love you
He’s in love with me too
So we got to let him sing his song

Well i got myself together
And i’ve been rolling down the road
Gonna boogie down down down down
If i ever get a chance to boogie woogie you
Ha, you can’t sit down

Pretenders – Kid

I’ve been a Pretenders fan since I heard Brass in Pocket when it was released. Although I would spend a long time tracking down the name of it. In the 1980s, you could count on them to release something good and not the standard top 40 music. Chrissie Hynde had more grit in her singing than most of her male and female peers. She wasn’t here to sing you a pretty song; she meant business.

The original band was something special. The members were James Honeyman-Scott (lead guitar, backing vocals, keyboards), Pete Farndon (bass guitar, backing vocals), and Martin Chambers (drums, backing vocals, percussion)…and of course Chrissie Hynde. To convince guitarist James Honeyman-Scott to join The Pretenders, Chrissie Hynde hired one of his favorite recording artists, Nick Lowe, to produce the song Stop Your Sobbing, an album cut of The Kinks. Chris Thomas would go on to produce all the other songs on the album.

When the Pretenders burst onto the scene in 1979, they didn’t arrive with punk guitars (although the spirit was there). They were armed with mostly Hynde’s melodic songs. Chrissie Hynde was a new kind of female rock vocalist, vulnerable and dangerous all at once. She was/is a badass but still relatable. This song was the band’s second single in 1979 and was included on their 1980 debut album. It is a great slice of power pop that blends jangly guitars, melodic melancholy. I love James Honeyman-Scott’s intro guitar run; it makes the song for me. It’s very obvious why Chrissie wanted him in the band.

Hynde has stated the song is about a woman who works in “the game” (prostitution) to get by, and her sadness when her child learns the truth about what she does. Following the 1981 Pretenders album Pretenders II, two of the four band members, Pete Farndon and James Honeyman-Scott, died of drug overdoses, leaving just Hynde and drummer Martin Chambers, who remained the mainstays in the band amongst a rotating cast of guitarists and bass players through the 1980s.

The song peaked at #33 in the UK in 1979.

Kid

Kid, what changed your mood?You got all sad, so I feel sad tooI think I knowSome things you never outgrow

You think it’s wrongI can tell you doHow can I explainWhen you don’t want me to?

Kid, my only kidYou look so small, you’ve gone so quietI know you know what I’m aboutI won’t deny it

But you forgetYou don’t understandYou’ve turned your headYou’ve dropped my hand

All my sorrowAll my bluesAll my sorrow

Shut the lightGo awayFull of graceYou cover your face

Kid, precious kidYour eyes are blue, but you won’t cry, I knowAngry tears are too dearYou won’t let them go

Parliament Funkadelic – Give Up The Funk (Tear The Roof Off the Sucker)

Ow, we want the funk
Give up the funk

I’ve always liked funk music, but I haven’t heard a lot of it as much as other types of music. Posting the Meters a few weeks ago gave me the urge to listen to more. Where else would I go other than to follow fellow bassist Bootsy Collins? He most certainly brought the funk and runs on the bass that were incredible. 

The opening alone feels like a giant neon sign flickering to life: FUNK DELIVERED HERE, with Bootsy Collins’ bass out walking and running amok. George Clinton started this band, but when I hear them, I can’t help but think of Collins. Maybe it’s the bass player in me. 

Before the stage costumes, before Bootsy’s star-shaped bass, George Clinton was running a humble doo-wop group out of a New Jersey barbershop. That is where the so-called P-Funk universe first sparked to life. In the late 1950s Clinton worked as a hairdresser in Plainfield, New Jersey, and formed a vocal group called The Parliaments. Inspired by groups like Frankie Lymon & The Teenagers, their sound leaned closer to street-corner harmonies and teenage heartbreak rather than spaced-out funk. They spent their early years cutting singles for small labels, chasing a hit, and stacking harmonies with tight choreography.

Their first real breakthrough came in 1967 with the single “(I Wanna) Testify“, which scraped the charts and gave the group national attention. But success came tangled in bad contracts, which would later force Clinton to get creative with band names. After hearing Psychedelic Soul, Clinton began to shift toward that kind of music in the late 1960s under the name Funkadelic, as he had temporarily lost the rights to the name Parliaments. Funkadelic allowed Clinton to push into psychedelic territory, influenced by Hendrix, Sly Stone, and Cream. The debut Funkadelic album arrived in 1970, and suddenly the group had two separate identities. Later on, after he got the name back, he combined the bands, and they were known as P-Funk. 

What really sparked this band was former James Brown bass player Bootsy Collins, when he joined in 1972. His brother, guitarist, Phelps “Catfish” Collins, was already in the band. This guy is a fantastic bass player, and there isn’t much better than him. This song became Parliament’s first million-selling single and remains one of the most recognizable funk tracks ever cut. It was played in discos, block parties, roller rinks, sports arenas, on the radio, and later, hip-hop sampling culture.

This album was called The Mothership Connection (Clinton was a huge Star Trek fan) peaked at #13 on the Billboard Album Charts and #4 on the R&B album charts. The song peaked at #15 on the Billboard 100 in 1975. 

Give Up The Funk (Tear The Roof Off the Sucker)

Tear the roof off, we’re gonna tear the roof off the mother sucker
Tear the roof off the sucker
Tear the roof off, we’re gonna tear the roof off the mother sucker
Tear the roof off the sucker
Tear the roof off, we’re gonna tear the roof off the mother sucker
Tear the roof off the sucker
Tear the roof off, we’re gonna tear the roof off the mother sucker
Tear the roof off the sucker

You’ve got a real type of thing going down, gettin’ down
There’s a whole lot of rhythm going round
You’ve got a real type of thing going down, gettin’ down
There’s a whole lot of rhythm going round

Ow, we want the funk
Give up the funk
Ow, we need the funk
We gotta have that funk
Ow, we want the funk
Give up the funk
Ow, we need the funk
We gotta have that funk

You’ve got a real type of thing going down, gettin’ down
There’s a whole lot of rhythm going round
You’ve got a real type of thing going down, gettin’ down
There’s a whole lot of rhythm going round

Ow, we want the funk
Give up the funk
Ow, we need the funk
We gotta have that funk
Ow, we want the funk
Give up the funk
Ow, we need the funk
We gotta have that funk

We’re gonna turn this mother out
We’re gonna turn this mother out

You’ve got a real type of thing going down, gettin’ down
There’s a whole lot of rhythm going round
You’ve got a real type of thing going down, gettin’ down
There’s a whole lot of rhythm going round
You’ve got a real type of thing going down, gettin’ down
There’s a whole lot of rhythm going round
You’ve got a real type of thing going down, gettin’ down
There’s a whole lot of rhythm going round

Ow, we want the funk
Give up the funk
Ow, we need the funk
We gotta have that funk
Ow, we want the funk
Give up the funk
Ow, we need the funk
We gotta have that funk

Ow, we want the funk
Give up the funk
Ow, we need the funk
(Let us in, we’ll tear this mother out)
We gotta have that funk
Ow, we want the funk
Give up the funk
Ow, we need the funk
(Let us in, we’ll tear this mother out)
We gotta have that funk

Ow, we want the funk
Give up the funk
Ow, we need the funk
We gotta have that funk
Ow, we want the funk
Give up the funk
Ow, we need the funk
We gotta have that funk
Ow, we want the funk
Give up the funk
Ow, we need the funk
We gotta have that funk

(We’re gonna turn this mother out)
Ow, we want the funk
Give up the funk
(We’re gonna turn this mother out)
Ow, we need the funk
We gotta have that funk
(We’re gonna turn this mother out)
Ow, we want the funk
Give up the funk
(We’re gonna turn this mother out)
Ow, we need the funk
We gotta have that funk

Ow, we want the funk
Give up the funk
Ow, we need the funk
(Let us in, we’ll tear this mother out)
We gotta have that funk
Ow, we want the funk
Give up the funk
Ow, we need the funk
(Let us in, we’ll tear this mother out)
We gotta have that funk

We want the funk
Give up the funk
We need the funk
We gotta have that funk
We want the funk
Give up the funk
We need the funk
We gotta have that funk
We want the funk
Give up the funk
We need the funk
We gotta have that funk

(You’ve got a real type of thing going down, gettin’ down)
(There’s a whole lot of rhythm going round)
You’ve got a real type of thing going down, gettin’ down
There’s a whole lot of rhythm going round
You’ve got a real type of thing going down, gettin’ down
There’s a whole lot of rhythm going round

Ow, we want the funk
Give up the funk
Ow, we need the funk
(Let us in we’ll tear this mother out)

Kolchak: The Night Stalker – The Energy Eater

December 13, 1974 Season 1 Episode 10

If you want to see where we are…HERE is a list of the episodes.

Episode 10 is the halfway point! By the time “The Energy Eater” aired, Kolchak: The Night Stalker had already faced vampires, swamp monsters, and ancient spirits, but this one took a turn into urban mythology with a sci-fi twist. The setting is a newly built hospital in Chicago, plagued by strange power failures, mysterious deaths, and collapsing foundations. Kolchak, sensing something supernatural, soon discovers that the hospital was built on the site of an ancient Native American burial ground, never a good idea in 1970s horror or in real life, for that matter.

This episode is not as good as the previous episode, The Spanish Moss Murders, or the next superb one, Horror in the Heights, but it offers something different. What makes this episode different is that for the first and last time, Kolchak has a real team behind him. He has not one but two sidekicks in this episode. It was nice to see Kolchak get support instead of just being thrown out of meetings by the police.

One was a tough but helpful construction boss and Native American shaman Jim Elkhorn (a marvelously warm and engaging performance by  B-movie William Smith), who assists Kolchak in combating a powerful ancient Native American spirit called the Matchemonedo (This creature is based on a spirit from Potawatomi lore) that’s terrorizing a newly opened hospital built over its resting place. The other was Nurse Janis Eisen (the beautiful Elaine Giftos, whom I remember from Barney Miller). Both are quality characters, and you can sense their camaraderie.

It’s creepy, clever, and grounded in the struggle between progress and the past. Just another night in Chicago for the reporter who always finds trouble that no one will believe. He’s the only reporter who can connect Indian folklore, power surges, and modern construction mishaps into one believable headline, if only anyone believed him. One scene I really liked is when Kolcahk mentions Matchemonedo to his boss. He was smart enough this time not to explain this because Tony would never believe it. Instead, he said that Matchemondo was a Cuban fighter.

Next week’s episode is below this video!

For Next Week’s Episode...here is the link.

Link Wray – Link Wray …album review

I was really taken aback when I saw this album. I played it, expecting an instrumental, and when I heard a voice, I thought it was a different singer. When I think of Link Wray, I think of Rumble and instrumentals like that. I was surprised when I found this roots album by him, recorded in 1971. I want to thank Lisa for posting something that made me think of this rare Link Wray album.

After serving in the military, Wray contracted tuberculosis and lost a lung, which made singing difficult, and doctors advised him against it. Because of his breathing difficulties, Wray began to focus more on expressive and experimental guitar playing, leading him to become known for his instrumental hits. Wray was a Native American of Shawnee descent. He grew up in North Carolina. Wray later honored his heritage in his music, with songs like Apache and Comanche.

This album was recorded in a converted chicken shack. His brother, Ray Vermon Wray, helped produce it along with Bob Feldman and Steve Verroca. Instead of power chords and a leather jacket, Link traded distortion for Americana, funk, gospel, and storytelling. It was earthy, roots-driven, and deeply personal, almost a different artist altogether from the one I thought I knew. After being freed from label pressures, Link finally made the music he grew up with: gospel from church revivals, Native American rhythms from family heritage, country blues, and Southern soul.

There were still guitars, but now they sat behind the songs instead of smashing through them. Tracks like Fire and Brimstone, Juke Box Mama, and Ice People feel like they were born out of the dirt. The grooves are loose, almost like field recordings. His voice, rarely heard on record before this, carries a soulful and weathered sound. He didn’t sound like a rock guitarist trying to sing; he sounded like a weathered preacher who happened to play guitar.

You hear old-time country on Take Me Home Jesus, boogie on God Out West, and Native rhythms driving Black River Swamp. No other rock guitarist of his generation made anything remotely like this. Only one song retains his old tone, and that’s the intro to Tail Dragger. If anything, it pointed the way decades later for artists like Los Lobos and the entire alt-country movement. If you want to hear some authentic Americana, listen to this album.

Polydor gave the album a shot, but the public wanted Link the guitar guy, not Link the backwoods Americana prophet. Sales were modest, and critics were divided. However, like many records that were too authentic for their time, it grew in legend over time. Today, many fans call the 1971 album his true masterpiece

Black River Swamp

I was born down in the countryDown where the cotton growsTurnin’ off the main highwayGoin’ down that country road

There’s a place down in the countryWhere the pine trees grow so tallWalk across that old log bridgeStretching ‘cross Black River Swamp

I can hear them bullfrogs croakingIn the blackness of the nightCalling me back to my childhoodDown here in Black River Swamp

Saw my name carved on a big oak treeDown there by the fishing holeAnd the smell of old Black RiverWhere the waters are deep and cold

I can hear the hound dogs howlin’Chasin’ that old fox where I used to roamDown there in the countryCallin’ me to Black River Swamp

I can hear them hound dogs howlin’Chasin’ that old fox where I used to roamDown there in the countryCallin’ me to Black River Swamp

I was born in the countryDown where the cotton growsTurnin’ off the main highwayGoin’ down that country road

There’s a place down in the countryWhere the pine trees grow so tallGo across that log bridgeStretching ‘cross Black River Swamp

Foghat – Slow Ride

This is a fun song to hear once in a while. This song was written by the group’s lead singer, David “Lonesome Dave” Peverett. Many air guitars have been played with this song. Peverett was different than most hard rock bands’ lead singers. He had a heavy blues influence that would show, and he was an excellent guitar player. This is arena rock at its finest. Listening to it as a kid, I had no idea what it meant, but it was so powerful with that guitar pumping out that rhythm.

This was released in 1975 on their album Fool for the City; it became Foghat’s signature song, the song that turned them from touring road warriors into FM radio staples. What has always fascinated me about Slow Ride is how something that simple, that groove-heavy, can hit so hard and stay so fresh nearly fifty years later.

Foghat was born out of the blues band Savoy Brown. Dave Peverett, the drummer, Roger Earl, and the bassist Tony Stevens quit that band and decided to form their own band in 1970. The band wanted to take the sound of Savoy Brown a step further and add a rock edge to its basic boogie blues.

I always liked their name, Foghat. It’s a name that sticks with you for better or worse. Foghat got their name when Peverett came up with the word while playing a Scrabble-like game with his brother. He convinced the band to go with it instead of Brandywine, and I have to agree with him. Some myths claim it is a slang term or that it meant something dirty, but the truth is simple: it was just a made-up word from Dave Peverett’s childhood.

Their bass player, Tony Stevens, quit and was replaced by their producer, Nick Jameson. Nick had played bass in his first band, so they asked him to join. They all jammed with each other for around 6 hours, and this song came out of it. Although it is credited to Peverett, it is said to be written by the entire band, with big contributions from Jameson.

This song peaked at #20 on the Billboard 100 and #14 in Canada in 1976. They were a British band that never had much success in the UK…but they did have a lot of success in America. The album peaked at #23 on the Billboard Album Charts and #85 in Canada in 1976.

Slow Ride

Woo!

Slow ride, take it easy
Slow ride, take it easy
Slow ride, take it easy
Slow ride, take it easy

I’m in the mood
The rhythm is right
Move to the music
We can roll all night

Oh slow ride
Oh slow ride, take it easy
Slow ride, take it easy

Slow down, go down, got to get your lovin’ one more time
Hold me, roll me, slow ridin’ woman you’re so fine

Woo

I’m in the mood
The rhythm is right
Move to the music
We can roll all night, yeah

Oh
Slow ride, take it easy
Slow ride, take it easy

Slow down, go down, got to get your lovin’ one more time
Hold me, roll me, slow ridin’ woman you’re so fine

Slow ride, easy, slow ride, sleazy
Slow ride, easy, slow ride, sleazy
Slow ride, sleazy

Kolchak: The Night Stalker – The Spanish Moss Murders

December 6, 1974 Season 1 Episode 9

If you want to see where we are…HERE is a list of the episodes.

This one begins with Kolchak looking the worst I’ve seen him. He had just gone through something terrible, and we were about to find out. This episode blends Cajun folklore and good old-fashioned monster mayhem into one of the show’s best stories. This episode includes another actor whom I have always liked. Keenan Wynn starred in a lot of movies and television shows and was a wonderful character actor. In this episode, he plays Police Chief Joe ‘Mad Dog’ Siska, who is trying to stay calm…not easy around Kolchak. Chicago must have gone through many Chiefs of Police!

This time, Kolchak investigates a series of strange murders where the victims are covered in Spanish moss, crushed, and drowned far from any water. The culprit? The Père Malfait, a swamp monster from legend, a Cajun bayou boogeyman conjured up by an innocent street musician in a sleep study that takes away the ability to dream. People connected to the sleep subject (Don Mantooth) in unrelated ways are chosen as victims, so Kolchak will have to first discover who (or better, what) is killing them and figure out how to stop it.

The Père Malfait monster was played by Richard Kiel, who also played the Diablero the previous week in Bad Medicine. Producers liked him so much in both roles, they asked him to be available for a second season of the show. This one is highly thought of by The Night Stalker fans. I sound like a broken record, but again, this episode is smartly written and acted. Many times, McGavin would rewrite the scripts if he didn’t like them, and that happened a lot. He got no credit for that. That is probably the reason that no clunkers exist in this series. It also could have contributed to him asking out of his contract at the end of the season.

Kolchak starts digging, and, naturally, finds strange things. Kolchak’s journey in this episode takes him from sleep labs to recording studios,  to morgues, to warehouses, snapping photos and ticking off cops the whole way. Watching Kolchak rant his way through bureaucracy and disbelief is golden. It’s folklore meets journalism, and in Kolchak’s world, that always makes for one hell of a story.

If you want to get ahead…here is NEXT WEEK’S Episode!

If you want to get ahead…here is NEXT WEEK’S Episode!

Be Bop Deluxe – Ships In The Night

I recently read about this band, and a term came up that fits them well. “Genre Hopping,” and that phrase tells it all. This song grabbed me first because it has a power pop sound. But they combine other styles with it. Plus, some of their other music goes from hard rock, pop, blues, art rock, to prog rock in a flash. I like it when bands cover a lot of ground, and this band most certainly does.

Be-Bop Deluxe began in Wakefield, West Yorkshire, by guitarist, singer, and songwriter Bill Nelson, a musician with one foot in rock and one foot in the avant-garde. Nelson had been playing in local bands throughout the late 60s, experimenting with everything from blues to psychedelia, but he wanted something more ambitious, something that combined sharp guitar work, futuristic imagery, and sophisticated songwriting.

By 1972, Nelson formed the first version of Be-Bop Deluxe, a lineup that changed several times before the classic version solidified. Early on, the band included Ian Parkin, a friend from Nelson’s earlier groups, along with various rotating bassists and drummers. This initial formation leaned heavily on blues rock, but Nelson quickly moved past that sound and reshaped the band into something sleeker.

Their breakthrough came when Nelson recorded the independently released debut album, Axe Victim (I love the title track…the guitar is amazing), in 1974. Though it featured a very different lineup than the one that would make them famous, it established the Be-Bop Deluxe identity, a mix of glam rock, blues guitar, art rock, and guitar gymnastics, all wrapped in Nelson’s sci-fi-themed lyrics and elegant pop melodies.

This song was released in 1976 on their Sunburst Finish album. It peaked at #23 on the UK charts. The album peaked at #17 on the UK Charts as well. You can hear some XTC and other bands in this that came after Be-Bop Deluxe. Jon Leckie produced this, and he would go on to produce XTC, The Stone Roses, and Radiohead in the future.

It’s a band worth checking out because they probably have something you will like since they are so versatile.

Ships in the Night

Like a square peg in a round holeLike a harp without it’s stringsLike a sailor who sails no oceansLike a bird that has no wings

I am a desert(Without love) my light is dim(Without love) I have no treasures(Without love) I cannot win

Without love we are like ships in the nightWithout love, selling our souls down the riverSailing away and forever our pleasure is blue

Like a dream that has no dreamerLike a cloud without a skyLike a truth with no believerLike a mother without a child

I am a desert(Without love) my light is dim(Without love) I have no treasures(Without love) I can’t sit still

Without love we are like ships in the nightWithout love, selling our souls down the riverSailing away and forever our pleasure is blue

Kolchak: The Night Stalker – Bad Medicine

 November 29, 1974 Season 1 Episode 8

If you want to see where we are…HERE is a list of the episodes.

I am over halfway through this series, and I still haven’t run across a clunker. I see why IMDB has this series rated so high. This episode opens with a string of bizarre robberies where victims are found drained of life and valuables by what appears to be a high-society gentleman. The gentleman turns out to be something a lot less human and a lot more supernatural. The police think it’s a slick thief. Kolchak knows better; it’s a Manitou, a shape-shifting Native American spirit. 

The newsroom scenes are pure entertainment, Kolchak clashing with Tony Vincenzo (Simon Oakland) as he tries to explain that an ancient spirit is behind the heists. This episode captures what made the show great: the contrast between Carl’s curiosity and everyone else’s refusal to believe anything beyond the police blotter. Kolchak is always two steps ahead of the next headline.

The evil spirit is played by Richard Kiel, yes, the same actor who would later be “Jaws” in the James Bond films, and the spirit is both eerie and tragic. He’s not your typical TV creature feature villain; there’s a sense of melancholy to his transformation, as he is trapped by his curse. 

There is a chase through the hotel at the end, filled with dim lights and flickering shadows, that feels straight out of an old Universal horror flick. That’s not the first time I’ve said that about this series. Although it’s a seventies network series, they manage to keep an eerie feel to the show. 

For those who want to get ahead to next week.The Spanish Moss Murders… Click here!

Meters – Cissy Strut

I’ve been aware of this band for years, but I didn’t think I knew much about them. I started to listen, and yes, I’ve heard this and a couple of others. If you ever need to explain what “funk” feels like, you can skip any lyrics and just drop the needle on this song. These guys are New Orleans through and through. I’ve been posting songs with grooves lately. I don’t think you can beat this one.

It was recorded in 1969 for Josie Records. This song emerged from the Crescent City’s studio scene, which gave us Allen Toussaint, Lee Dorsey, and Dr. John. If you were a rock star in the seventies, you would be traveling to New Orleans to look up the Meters to get that New Orleans style. The Meters recorded with Paul McCartney, Robert Palmer, Dr John, LaBelle, Lee Dorsey, and Allen Toussaint, to name just a few.

In the mid-1960s, keyboardist Art Neville gathered three young musicians who shared his feel for rhythm: Guitarist Leo Nocentelli, bassist George Porter Jr., and drummer Joseph “Zigaboo” Modeliste. Together, they began backing artists like Lee Dorsey under the guidance of producer Allen Toussaint.

This song was their breakout song. They toured with The Rolling Stones in 1975, bringing funk to European stadiums. Their pure talent made them one of the most in-demand rhythm sections on the planet. This song has been used in many movies like Jackie Brown, Red, Legend, and many more. Their songs have been covered by The Grateful Dead, Red Hot Chili Peppers, and Widespread Panic, to name a few.

This song peaked at #23 on the Billboard 100 and #4 on the Billboard R&B Charts in 1969. Turn it up and you can hear New Orleans itself pushing through your speakers.