Tomorrow is Open Streets East Lake — from 45nd Avenue to Elliot Avenue the street will be closed to auto traffic and free for walking and biking. The street will be closed from 11am to 5pm. Businesses along the way will have fun activities for everyone! You can find out more about the event on its website here.
Here at Hymies we’ll be setting up the giant 20′ tent in the morning, courtesy of our neighbors at Nortern Sun, and hosting two of our favorite bands. Come by and hear Tabah at 12:30pm and The Southside Aces at 2:30pm! Here are some Bandcamp players where you can hear the latest recordings from each of these bands!
We’ll also be clearing out the storage space and have a few tables of FREE RECORDS for you to dig through, and also a couple boxes of FREE CDs. It’s gonna be a hot day so remember to bring a water bottle! We hope we’ll see lots of familiar faces on this second annual Open Streets East Lake.
While some jazz artists have changed direction and become popular vocalists, others have started singing on their records whether its popular or not. Our favorite of these has long been Dizzy Gillespie.
Anyways, one we’ve always looked for but had never found turned up in the shop on a compilation last week. The record is in terrible shape, but it played well enough to get us nearly three minutes closer to completing that cassette.
Also, like nearly every single recording of Dizzy Gillespie we’ve ever heard (whether he sings or not), this is just great! Few jazz fans like his vocal numbers as much as we do, but he remains one of the most undeniably accessible and endearing figures in the history of jazz.
Recorded from this 10″ EP in the Classics in Jazz series, here’s “Ooh La La.” It’s noteworthy that this one of the few recordings made of Gillespie’s orchestra during the short tenure of a tenor named John Coltrane. The soloist on this session, however, is Jimmy Heath.
There are so many Dylan covers one couldn’t possibly collect them all. We post them from time to time. This one hit a sweet spot for us — there’s something satisfying about Waylon version of this song.
We here at your friendly neighborhood record store generally eschew opportunities to share our political views — our thought is that its hardly our place to tell people what to listen to, so who are we to tell anyone how to vote? But that ever-charming ol’ 80s Dylan was right, “we live in a political world” (and, ya know, looking back we stand by our defense of Oh Mercy posted just after the Paris terror attacks of January 2015). That political world seeps into our daily lives, and in this near-daily blog about records we sometimes struggle to stifle that impulse to express our feelings.
That said, in exactly six months we will inaugurate a new President of our great nation. It will be one of two candidates who are so widely loathed by the majority of the American people that the situation we find ourselves in is utterly unfathomable. Take a look at this Gallup Poll chart of candidate approval ratings if you have doubted the news story’s about the alarming unpopularity of each major party candidate. Months ago we read this convincing case for offering voters the option of “None of the Above” on ballots — this isn’t a satirical scene from Brewster’s Millions but an actual article in the National Review!
And ol’ Barry O., who has gone grey speaking to the nation following a mass shooting seventeen times, he’s not looking so bad. Well, he’s looking older — look at the difference between this man announcing policy proposals after the first Fort Hood shooting in November 2009 and this exhausted man speaking about the Orlando nightclub shooting last month. We really cannot imagine either of the current candidates offering us condolence after the next such tragedy.
Any time we feel afraid for the future, we take a little solace in our record collection. It’s like our “safe place.” And that’s why these two albums hit our turntable after we saw that Gallup Poll chart.
The same day we posted Lenny Bruce’s “Djinni in the Candy Store” last week, we came across this album while cleaning a great crate of jazz records.
Keyboardist Bobby Lyle has made his most indelible mark as the musical director for hugely popular singers in the 80s — Bette Midler, Anita Baker and Al Jarreau — but he has sporadically recorded soulful jazz albums under his own name as well.
He is also part of the Minnesota jazz legacy, growing up just a couple blocks off Lake Street and cutting his teeth at clubs like the Blue Note and Herb’s back in the sixties. Jay Goetting’s history of Minnesota jazz, Joined at the Hip, includes an impressive story about Lyle. When Wynton Kelly was playing at Herb’s with his trio, Lyle stepped up and played during their smoke break. Mickey McClain was there, and remembered, “Kelly looked up and exclaimed, ‘Who the fuck is that?'”
Another legend about Lyle is that he nearly started a jazz fusion band with Jimi Hendrix. The two jammed, along with Willie Weeks and Gypsy drummer Bill Lordan, but the project never went further before Hendrix passed away the following year.
Lyle lives in Texas now, but according to Goetting’s book he occasionally returns to the Twin Cities.
From the picture on the back of The 12 Sides of John D. Loudermilk, the singer-songwriter hardly looks like bad news, but he wrote some of the baddest outlaw tunes around. Our favorite is this 1963 single, which, like many of his songs, has been covered pretty widely over the years. Country fans likely know it as through Johnny Cash’s recording, and more recently it became a sort of signature tune for Whitey Morgan and the 78s.
Paul Revere and the Raiders had the biggest hit from a cover of one of Loudermilk’s songs with “Indian Reservation” in 1971. He wrote the song after a family of Cherokee Indians took him in when he was stranded in a blizzard, and they asked him to write a song about the plight of their people.
Historian Dee Brown calmly describes the period following the Indian Removal Act of 1830 (and the subsequent Cherokee Removal Act of 1838) as “a bad time” in Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee. The Cherokee people have long called it “The Trail of Tears,” as nearly their entire nation was forced to march more than a thousand miles with minimal supplies in one of the most shameful chapters in our nation’s history.
When telling the story of “Indian Reservation” to the Viva! Nash Vegas radio program (here), Loudermilk says that after being awarded a medal by the Cherokee nation, he was asked to read from a ledger from the Cherokee Trail of Tears and was shocked to find the names of his great grandparents, who were ninety-one years old when forced by the US Military to leave their home.
A small number of Cherokee escaped the forced removal and remained, and they now have a reservation as The Eastern Band of the Cherokee, not far from Loudermilk’s hometown of Durham, North Carolina. He wrote a song about his childhood there called “Tobacco Road,” which was also a hit after it was covered, this time by the Nashville Teens and later Eric Burdon and the Animals. The song has since become a standard and probably the most commonly covered of Loudermilk’s songs.
John D. Loudermilk is eighty-two years old and largely retired, so he’s probably not “Bad News” anymore. He is one of our favorite songwriters. In fact, last winter we posted a novelty song he recorded in 1957 without even knowing it was one of his songs (here).