Friday, March 24, 2017

Bravo Max--- Milking the Seventies (and Beyond)

Satin Whale. It took me a while but that's what the opening track of Bullfighter Blues brought to mind the first time I heard it. Never heard of them? Think the jazzy side of Krautrock back the the early seventies. Satin Whale was one of the Brain Trust--- the many German bands which became import classics on the Brain label: Grobschnitt, Thirsty Moon, Neu!, Cluster, and Guru Guru. Some damn fine stuff came out of the Hamburg-based label and Bravo Max, had they stayed with the sound of “Prelude to Clean Slate” could have passed as Brainy, but they didn't. And couldn't. They have music to make.

The music they make, at least on this latest release, is hardly that narrow, the trio reaching out to a string of seventies bands, either knowingly or otherwise. I loved the late-sixties and early-seventies for the wide-open attitude toward music. And not just the hits. I loved the deep, deep tracks by the lesser- and unknowns, the bands few remember but about which there seems to be new interest. If there wasn't, there would not be a Brain box set on the horizon.

Bravo Max is not the only band out there playing loose with the sounds of the past. Hell, I'm pretty sure most don't even know the sounds are of the past, but I can point to Cinci's Mad Anthony as fellow envelope pushers. I'm sure there are others but just none which come to mind at the moment. I love what they're doing, though, and couldn't be more thrilled with Bullfighter Blues.



I hear bits and pieces of May Blitz, Sir Lord Baltimore, The Groundhogs, Jukin' Bone, Damnation, Dust, and others. The thing about these bands is that there was no perfection in their music. They played with abandon, either not having the deep pockets to perfect or preferring to not. Their vocals are hardly perfect but somehow perfectly fitting. Their bedrock grooves allow the guitar room to move, and move it does. They play everything from the jazzy (“Prelude to Clean Slate”) to the punchy (“MI-5's Alive”) to the semi-psychedelic (“Shake Loose Paranoia”) to latent R&B/Soul (“Clean Slate?) and do it with a flair you seldom hear anymore.

I guess you could also call the entire album prog, too, if you want to. They certainly do not live off of major chords most of the time and they change time signatures on certain songs like newborns change diapers. Neither quickly nor smoothly (what the biz sometimes calls “tight”) but openly and honestly. They give the music, warts and all.



Favorite tracks: “Prelude to Clean Slate,” though it certainly could be longer (it clocks in at a mere 1:32); “Clean Slate,” thanks to its R&B groove and horns; “Raise a Toast,” a cross between real seventies rock and what the major labels would have preferred; and “Black Sugar,” for the rhythm and chorus. Good, good stuff.

There is an awful lot of good music thus far this year but this one is special. I can see myself playing this as a palate cleanser, an album to clear the standard out of my ears, to clear the head. It might very well take one of the top spots the course of this year, it being just far enough outside the envelope to make a real dent.

And to think I almost passed this one by. Man, am I happy I didn't!  

Wednesday, March 1, 2017

Highlight Bomb--- Acing Their Finals!

(Originally written in 2012, the year the album Finals was released.  Which doesn't make it less viable.  The album, in fact, is one of those which stands the test of time very well.  This reprint courtesy of a brand new release by the band--- Slobberknockers, which I will review as soon as I take care of this...)

Ladies and Gentlemen, from Seattle--- Highlight Bomb!

I mean well. I started meaning well on the Net by bookmarking things. There was never enough time, I thought, so I would bookmark pages in the hopes of getting back to them later. Soon, I had hundreds of bookmarks (and still do). My sister, when checking her email on my computer one day, asked me why. At that time, I could not think of one good reason. In the back of my mind, I always hoped to get to some of them.

Last week, I clicked on a page for a band calling themselves Highlight Bomb. I have no idea where I found the link, whether it was passed along by a friend or just popped up one day on one of my many searches and I, always interested in things Seattle, saved it. After listening to a few of the songs, I regretted not getting to them right after bookmarking. These guys are not only good, but diversified, musically. They crank and boogie and metal out extremely well indeed, with the occasional pop tune thrown in for good measure. To make up for losing them in the mountainous pile of projects I wish I could get to but somehow seem to not, here are a couple of videos and thumbnail reviews of songs left behind but now getting ample listening time. I’m impressed.

Okay, they’re really from Tacoma, but seriously, would any of you looked had I said Tacoma? Fewer, I will bet. Maybe a lot fewer. Such is the power of a music scene. While Seattle and Tacoma have always shared a scene, mention Tacoma and you get a blank stare. Except from Sonics and Wailers fans. The thing is, these guys are good! And the sense of humor doesn’t hurt. Allow me to give you a blow-by-blow description in case you’re strapped for time (or are just an idiot who whines about music being a thing of the past but who won’t take a couple of minutes to click and listen to something new and good):

No Empire— Is this grunge? Truth be told, I stopped listening as soon as people started calling it grunge. All of those bands you loved to listen to like Mudhoney and Alice In Chains and Pearl Jam and Nirvana were just rockers to me. Maybe a little more angst-ridden, but just rock. This is a guitar-driven song reminding me a bit of a toned down Ticktockman or a King’s X. A little more basic with more standard hooks. I dig it.

Fall Classic— leans more toward the power pop side of the street. Fountains of Wayne with less production. Great track. Good hook.


I Don’t Mind— Wait! Acoustic? Yep. These guys do it all. Outstanding acoustic pop, in fact. Normally, I would complain because I am not a huge fan of acoustic— it has been overdone a bit—- but I dig all music when it is done well and these guys do it well. I like this a lot. Even with the strings (or is it only cello).

Devolver— Now we’re talking! A step into Freedom Hawk territory. Crankin’ hard rock. In fact, this song sounds a lot like the Hawk, a band I’ve been following for some time now. Crunching rhythm guitar, heavy beat. Just to compare:


Wow Culture Lovers— This starts off like a speed metal prelude, but settles down to a solid hard rocker. Whoever writes their lyrics has a nice touch. It comes through on all the songs, but I especially like the lyrics on this one.

Chalk It Up As a Good Memory— Chunky rhythm guitar and power pop. Great combination if you ask me. This one is upbeat and powerful. As with all of HB‘s songs, they are recorded loud to be played loud, as the old LP stickers used to say. And I love me a little guitar feedback now and then.

The Storm— These guys love their hard rock. This one, Toto, is right now my favorite. Heavy rhythm guitar with seventies hair band vocals and a slower beat. Had Cinderella played this at the one concert I saw them play, I wouldn’t have blinked an eye. But I like these guys more than I ever liked them.

Coal Rush— What the hell? Speed Americana? It’s like speed metal with a banjo or something. Dig the chorus, but think it will take a bit of time to adjust. Interesting, to say the least. And is that a female voice I hear? Damn! This is really good!

https://highlightbomb.bandcamp.com/track/coal-rush

Bury You— Of all the song titles on this page, I would have thought this the hardest of them all with the exception of The Storm. This is mainstream rock and nothing like the other tracks there. I’m impressed! I think I’m ready for that ode to pretentious bands of the late seventies now. Except this isn’t pretentious at all. I would take this over most of the inane bands I’ve heard over the years anytime. Good track, but a surprise!

1-800-FIGHTUS— I knew they would get there. Screaming punk. I can see the saliva dribbling down the singer’s chin now. Very cool.

Seriously, if you have an adventurous bone in your body and like power pop/metal, these guys could be the sleeper of your collection. The more I hear them, the more I’m liking them. Bombs, and whoever sent me the link to this page, my apologies for not paying attention. You have earned your slot in my rockin’ hall of fame (small letters intentional— can’t be getting sued by those wankers in Cleveland now, can I? Now with my bank account).


These songs are not on the Finals album but they will give you a good idea of who Highlight Bomb are:



Frank O. Gutch Jr.

Friday, October 28, 2016

Sam Wilson--- Green Gates

For an album made mainly because Sam Wilson did not want to leave the handful of songs he had ready in the dust, Green Gates is an astonishing accomplishment. Normally plucking guitar for Charlottesville's up and coming Sons of Bill, Peyton Tochterman's High Society and the back-in-the-game (and about time) Shannon Worrell, he sidesteps into a world inhabited by bandmates Brian Chenault, Wells Hanley, Brian Caputo and Darrell Muller to unload eleven outstanding originals worthy of two of the best of the 'lost' late sixties and early seventies bands, unusual in their composition and produced to perfection. The bands of which I speak are Byzantium, a UK group who produced a stunning album picked up by Warner Brothers Records in the States and quickly buried by the apathy of radio (The second LP was released on A&M in the UK and was not picked up in the States, possibly due to the round of silence surrounding the WB album), and Chicago's much respected Illinois Speed Press. Despite the lack of success of both bands (Illinois Speed Press did sell, but not in the numbers Columbia Records had hoped), they were on the whole critically well received and worthy of a much better fate, but such is the music biz, and today the LPs command a hefty price at auction. Those bands also produced musicians of note, by the way, Byzantium's Chaz Jankel releasing a fairly successful album for A&M a few years later, and ISP's Kal David and Paul Cotton having extended careers, David with The Fabulous Rhinestones and others, Cotton with Poco and then solo.

Fortunately and unfortunately, the ghost of Illinois Speed Press appears only on the title track, “Green Gates,” but what a ghost it is, and totally unintentional, according to Wilson. He swears he has never heard ISP, but you cannot mistake the dueling lead guitars of Wilson and Brian Chenault a la David and Cotton on ISP's “P.N.S. (When You Come Around)” off of ISP's first album. The light and floating riffs of one are superb contrast to the brassy and more forceful riffs of the other--- pure guitar magic. Make no mistake, though. “Green Gates” stands on its own and the guitars just make it that much better.



The other ten tracks live in that netherworld which makes Wilson's musical vision so fascinating, the voices instruments in an ensemble of keyboards and guitars bowing to production. Wilson could have easily forced the issue, layering tracks into oblivion, but he somehow found a true balance between tape loops, synthesizers, reverb and tremolo and came out of the tunnel with dreamlike scenarios which effortlessly carry you away. In the seventies, we usually waited until late evening or very early morning to put Byzantium on the turntable, when we were more receptive to the whole other side of the music--- the subconscious, if you will. Wilson and crew have musically recreated the era without even realizing it, I am sure, even the rockers having that smooth progressive psych edge to them, almost Moody Blues-like, but better.

No doubt, a major label or two will perk their ears up at this. I fervently hope that Sam Wilson turns a deaf ear for awhile, at least, because throwing money at music many times destroys it and Green Gates is the start of what could easily be an outstanding beginning to a major, major musical career.

Albums like this are the real treasures in today's world of music. Each hearing produces not only highs but surprises, for there are gems hidden beneath the glimmering surface which take effort to uncover. It is adventure and any time you put music and adventure together, you have a winner. Miss this at your peril.

(Frank Gutch Jr. writes and has written for numerous magazines and websites, presently including this blog and the prestigious Don't Believe A Word I Say site put together by musician and music pundit Bob Segarini out of Toronto. He specializes in the Indies, having fought hand-to-hand combat with major record labels for decades (talk about zombies). He believes music should be the core of the music business, though business it mostly be, and denies the accepted reality in the stead of the artistic one. Seldom does he receive pay for articles and/or reviews and believes that there is no place for negatives in a world in which one cannot keep up with the positives. He is, in a sense, a lost soul in a sea of music, drowning, but drowning gratefully.)

Friday, October 21, 2016

TICKTOCKMAN--- tick...tock...tick...tock

Goddamn, but I love some energetic and powerful music sometimes if only to offset this acoustic rut the world seems to have fallen into. I remember when the “unplugged” craze hit and I remember cursing the musical gods with epithets which mostly contained the phrase, “If God had wanted us to listen to acoustic music all the time, he would not have invented electric guitar and amplifiers!” And I meant it. I mean, a lot of the bands which gave up stacks of Marshalls to sit on stools or folding chairs barely made it behind the wall of sound the amps created. Acoustically, their warts grew to sci-fi proportions, the music barely passable if that. Nope, give me electric most of the time and give it to me in mountainous proportions. I want time changes and power and a voice to string it together. I want rhythms which force you to listen or leave--- that's right, I don't want the unadventurous invading my space. Wait! That's it! Headslap! I want adventure!

And there are few bands out there as adventurous as Ticktockman. These guys are like anemones. Ideas fall onto them and they digest them and somehow come up with culinary delights for the ears way beyond most of the tripe passing for music these days. Dare I call them progressive? What does that mean anymore? Hard rock? They definitely have a hard edge but they don't play hard rock, at least not the three chord blast-em-out version many of us accept as such. Grunge? I still haven't quite figured out what that is, perhaps because I had lived through a couple of decades of rock metamorphoses before it came along.

I can tell you this. They are powerful. They are tight--- asshole-tight, as my old drill sergeant used to say. They are adventurous, grabbing influences wherever and whenever it strikes their fancy. You don't hear jazzy guitar solos in the midst of tracks like “Scavenger! Move Along!” without a sense of adventure.



I can point out bands which also have that sense of adventure: Captain Beyond, King's X, Living Colour, and that's only three, although three of my all-time favorites. I'm sure there are others, though at the present I am amped up on caffeine and don't really care. What I care about is getting the word out about Ticktockman. You should hear these guys, if only to give you fodder for your next “Trash the Gutchman” rant. If only to prove me right or wrong. If only to, in the best case scenario, find a band to set you back on your heels.

Musicians! There are a handful of bands out there you should be hearing! Bands which are a step above, both musically and rhythmically. These guys are one. Pick your instrument (and I don't mean the fleugelhorn) and get set to be schooled. These guys are that good!

Words aren't enough? Good news! You can stream them here!

(Frank Gutch Jr. writes and has written for numerous magazines and websites, presently including this blog and the prestigious Don't Believe A Word I Say site put together by musician and music pundit Bob Segarini out of Toronto. He specializes in the Indies, having fought hand-to-hand combat with major record labels for decades (talk about zombies). He believes music should be the core of the music business, though business it mostly be, and denies the accepted reality in the stead of the artistic one. Seldom does he receive pay for articles and/or reviews and believes that there is no place for negatives in a world in which one cannot keep up with the positives. He is, in a sense, a lost soul in a sea of music, drowning, but drowning gratefully.)

Thursday, October 20, 2016

Iron Bridge Band--- Against the Grain

Holy crap! Mainstream rock is not dead! Not even close. I know this because I stumbled upon The Iron Bridge Band--- actually, it was foisted upon me but I really don't care. I won't write about music I don't like but here I am writing about these guys so it should tell you something--- either I am a shill for a mega-corporation or I've heard something worth hearing. One look at my bank account should tell you it is not the former.

So where the hell has the IBB been? New Jersey. I would say strangely or oddly but New Jersey has been cranking out rockers for decades. Okay, I can't name anyone besides Springsteen and The Grip Weeds, but they are two of the big success stories right there--- one financially and the other artistically (and they probably are able to pay their bills as well). I would certainly not be surprised that half of the bands claimed by New York were originally from New Jersey too. New York is like a sponge or the 1950s Soviet Union, who was always claiming that they created God and everything else from that point on.

Well, IBB claims NJ home and I'm not disputing it. No, sirree. I'm not disputing anything these guys are dipping their wicks into. No reason to. Not only are they mainstream they are big sound mainstream, what many would claim as Big Hair mainstream. I have no idea, having never seen a picture of the band, but the big sound is impressive.



There is a bit of the loud bands of the late-seventies and early-eighties in them, guitars upfront and personal and the vocals right in front of them. Lead vocal chores are courtesy of one Chandler Mogel and he could easily sing back-to-back with vocalists from the likes of Winger or Zebra or even Cinderella or Van Halen. He is pushed hard by the guitars of Stephen Jude Walsh and bass and drums of Lanie Suky and Scott Suky, respectively. Add percussion and voice of Amy Anderson and we have a winner.

One thing that can be said about really good mainstream rock is that it can be anthemic, the kind of music which will have the dinosaurs reaching for their Bic lighters. When they rock, they rock, but when they want to make a point.....



What can I say? All the words in the world will not tell you accurately what they sound like. Check out their YouTube channel for more.

Hey, the seventies were a good time if you discount disco. Take a chance.

(Frank Gutch Jr. writes and has written for numerous magazines and websites, presently including this blog and the prestigious Don't Believe A Word I Say site put together by musician and music pundit Bob Segarini out of Toronto. He specializes in the Indies, having fought hand-to-hand combat with major record labels for decades (talk about zombies). He believes music should be the core of the music business, though business it mostly be, and denies the accepted reality in the stead of the artistic one. Seldom does he receive pay for articles and/or reviews and believes that there is no place for negatives in a world in which one cannot keep up with the positives. He is, in a sense, a lost soul in a sea of music, drowning, but drowning gratefully.)

What Is It?--- Punk Rock in SoCal, 1977-83

(Disclaimer--- this was posted a number of years ago on a website which used a variety of apps which are not available here, thus the comments about the font.)

Like the guys on this album would rip me a new one for using that fancy font, eh? Probably not because the musicians who made up a large part of the punk scene in Los Angeles in those days have moved on and, hell, it was a music scene, fer Chrissakes, and not an all-out war with the establishment like the record companies would have had you believe. Sure, there was angst and tension and even anger now and again. Welcome to Youthville! The only reason the young hippies were so mellow was that they were stoned all the time! Take away that nefarious weed and they could well have ended up spitting on sidewalks, each other and, worse, you!

I look back to those days and almost laugh. I say 'almost' because as crazed as some of these musicians thought they were, they were part of a small piece of music history which was luckily captured by Chris Ashford at What Records. Born and raised on surf and pop, Chris one day found himself surrounded by friends with spiked hair and safety pin piercings and, in pure self defense (he claims), he acquiesced. Well, not completely, because he refused to pierce anything, shall we say, too personal and his curly blond hair, no matter what he did with it, remained curly and blond. Know what? It may well have been wavy and blond. But I'm getting off the point here. Point is, he was there and so were they and damned if he didn't end up recording some of the bands being ignored by the established music interests and pretty soon here was a single and there was a single and eventually a compilation album and voila! What Is It?

This isn't the first time most of these tracks have been on LP. Most were there when the first compilation was released on, amazingly enough, What Records (this one is on Wondercap), but Ashford decided to blow the dust off of two tracks heretofore buried in his vaults (a handful of cardboard boxes stashed toward the back of a closet, a constant bone of contention between him and his girlfriend) and put two previously unreleased tracks on this one, those being by The Spastics. For the first time anywhere, the world is exposed to their recorded music (I'm a Spaz/Fuck the World and Baby, You String Me Up/Your Head Exploding) and might not be all the better for it. The Spastics, even supported by the future David Baerwald (David and David, Sheryl Crow), were not exactly crowd favorites wherever they played and, like the liner notes say, they “had the fire extinguisher turned on them during their swansong performance” at The Masque. An aside: The author of those liner notes is working on finishing up a book about those early punk days tentatively titled Destroy All Music.

You get the picture then, right? Throw in all of the standards of the time, though many would argue the term, and you have a history of oddball punk with tracks by The Germs (Forming and 'Round and 'Round), San Diego transplants The Dils (I Hate the Rich),The Eyes (Don't Talk To Me), The Skulls (On Target), The Controllers (Killer Queers), Kaos (Top Secret), and Agent Orange(Out of Limits). Hell of a lineup and including future names like DJ Bonebrake, the aforementioned David Baerwald, Johnny Stingray, Charlotte Caffey, and Darby Crash, among others.

Watch out, though. Though the young punks have mellowed and even burned out, the music is as brash as ever. If you were there, you will undoubtedly want to turn this up and recreate some of those adrenal rushes you experienced listening to the bands or the records in the old days. If you weren't, chances are you will want to turn it up anyway. There is something about these punks that doesn't sound quite right when played at a low volume and, hell, that would be defeating the purpose of this music in the first place. So turn it up, my friends, and be thankful that there is a Chris Ashford out there watching over your music. And if you don't agree, there are fire extinguishers everywhere. Chris will be that old surfer dude with the long curly (or wavy) brown hair. Tell him Frank sent you.

By the way, What Is It is available for download or will be eventually and the 10-inch vinyl record is ready for shipping from Wondercap Records. If you visit, check out the other releases, including a fine rock/jazz album by DJ Bonebrake Trio. The drummer for X playing vibraphones? Very cool. And doing one hell of a job on them, too.

(Frank Gutch Jr. writes and has written for numerous magazines and websites, presently including this blog and the prestigious Don't Believe A Word I Say site put together by musician and music pundit Bob Segarini out of Toronto. He specializes in the Indies, having fought hand-to-hand combat with major record labels for decades (talk about zombies). He believes music should be the core of the music business, though business it mostly be, and denies the accepted reality in the stead of the artistic one. Seldom does he receive pay for articles and/or reviews and believes that there is no place for negatives in a world in which one cannot keep up with the positives. He is, in a sense, a lost soul in a sea of music, drowning, but drowning gratefully.)

Friday, May 6, 2016

The Mike Farley Band--- Where We Stand

I've been having flashbacks. I walk down the street and see old girlfriends, old cars, beer signs which haven't existed for decades (Oh, Heidelberg, what happened to you?). I think about what life was like before the Internet and at certain moments really wish that we could go back and change things. I find myself closing my eyes to so many things which are part of the everyday now and shuddering to think how far we have come. The thing is, it has come with a cost. A billion people knowing the answer to everything but not knowing much of anything at all. A million sure that their way is the way. A hundred thousand who are sure that there is no good music anymore and have stopped looking. A hundred, if that many, who know music is better than ever but have no one to tell because the hundred thousand who claim interest have stopped listening. I get tired.

And then along comes an album which drops into your lap and gives you hope and, yes, that hope is in the past because those times were simpler and not as intense and more human. The album of which I speak is The Mike Farley Band's Where We Stand and don't be surprised if you don't know of it. In this time of information overload I am surprised that we know as much as we do. But it is there and it has made its way into my ears and my psyche and I find myself listening to it on an escalating scale--- to enjoy, to escape.

Lately my escapes have come through music values revisited, mostly those of the early seventies. I have been drawn to the past as much as those hundreds of thousands have refused to leave theirs, preferring the constant drone of the “classics” to anything new or exciting. My past did include Led Zeppelin and The Rolling Stones and, yes, The Beatles, but I have heard those ad nauseum and have turned toward others--- the lesser-knowns, shall we say. The music going through my head is that of early Sons of Champlin and The Damnation of Adam Blessing and Illinois Speed Press, not because they are cool, like others who have found them or carried them into their present, but because the music was (and is) good. Paul Cotton-era Poco. The Atlantics. Greg Kihn.

A couple of years ago I added Lost Leaders to the mix because of the small details in their music, naming it Album of the Year for 2014 and ready to defend it against all-comers, though no one seemed to notice. And this year, there is The Mike Farley Band.

I have known Farley for awhile now but not as a musician. As much as we have talked music, his personal involvement just never came up. And he has a band. Sonofabitch, and I mean that in a music manner. Who knew?




Turns out it's a damn good band, in fact, and though I was ready to give them a chance, it took a few listens. Mainstream rock is a strange animal and I have dismissed albums before which became real favorites over the years. The first hint of quality was Back To Before, a light poppish tune which had just enough Greg Kihn to make me take notice. Listen two uncovered my now-favorite track, Subtle No More, which could have easily been a hit in 1972 or 1973, the verse building toward the chorus which stuck in my mind and wouldn't go away. Rewrite History came next, an upbeat but smooth rocker, then Helpless and so on and so forth.

They are good songs. Solid songs. But what makes them better than good is the attention to detail--- the way they were recorded. Listen closely and you can hear the organ on this song and the smooth electric rhythm on that song and the lead guitar, which could have been recorded by the master of the studios back in the seventies, Dean Parks. Guitarist Jeff Nagel will appreciate the comment. Parks was (and hopefully still is) a master.

The one negative about the album is not a negative at all. Reading the track listing, one song stuck out: Evil Woman. My heart beat a little faster when I envisioned maybe a slightly toned-down version of the Spooky Tooth classic. Could it be, I thought. No such luck, but the alternative was not all that bad--- it was a cover of the ELO song. The good thing is that I didn't mind it. Maybe if they had attempted the Spooky Tooth song, I would have. I will never know (unless they cover that one on the next album).

I'm listening to Subtle No More as I end this. It's the chorus. It has to be the chorus. Or maybe it's the guitar. Or the harmonies. But goddamn, I am beginning to really love the song. I knew it was making headway when I found myself in line at the grocery store and hearing it in my head and wondering who it was. It took a good half hour before Mike Farley popped into my head. Of course! He's in good company in there, lots of Nick Holmes and Brian Cullman and Lost Leaders and others taking up space. So much better than the days I worked retail and had Springsteen or The Rolling Stones bumping the much better indie songs out of my consciousness.  It's called brainwashing, kiddies.

Music is better than ever. Where We Stand proves it. It may not be the best album you will ever hear, but it's goddamn good and close enough.  

(Frank Gutch Jr. writes and has written for numerous magazines and websites, presently including this blog, his own website and the prestigious Don't Believe A Word I Say site put together by musician and music pundit Bob Segarini, out of Toronto. He specializes in the Indies, having fought hand-to-hand combat with major record labels for decades (talk about zombies). He believes music should be the core of the music business, though business it mostly be, and denies the accepted reality in the stead of the artistic one. Seldom does he receive pay for articles and/or reviews and believes that there is no place for negatives in a world in which one cannot keep up with the positives. He is, in a sense, a lost soul in a sea of music, drowning, but drowning gratefully.)