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Showing posts from August, 2019

American psychedelic: adventures in pop archaeology.

This piece of pop perfection , also buried and forgotten under layers of post-twentieth century sonic silt, saw on-air sunshine today for the first time in decades. From the days when they used to cram the local symphony orchestra into the sound booth. As one commenter noted: "I had forgotten what a bright and happy world it was in 1969."

Radio station revives dead singer.

FM radio is full of singers who sound like they are about to cough in between notes, or who ululate as if they are gargling gravel while taking part bin a prehistoric mating ritual. I have lived through some grim fashions in music but the current crop takes some beating. There are small pockets of resistance. Someone who goes by the on-air name of Ghostrider puts out three hours of gold on Mondays featuring acts you should know but most don't. Drowned in a sea of mediocrity, these names surface and then disappear again for decades at a time. Yesterday's feature artist: Esther Phillips. Listen and weep. Or try this link . MDR has the wrong track listing.