A Tantalizing Taste of Romance

Song 509: This week on the playlist you’ll find Sweet Caroline by Neil Diamond, who also wrote the song, and you can find a YouTube video of it by clicking on the title. This hit came along around the time I put on a cap and gown to accept my HS diploma, and not long after the initial release, my best friend's younger brother sold his 45 to me, as he often did, and it spun on the turntable a lot that summer. I found the B-side Dig In engaging as well, and I might possibly feature that cut on this list one of these weeks. I had perviously noticed Neil's name attached to a couple of Monkees songs I really liked, and this track added another layer to my appreciation for his talent. In the early months of 1974, I had an extended gig as a piano player for a pizza joint, and I regularly tossed this tune into the mix, particularly since it usually got a very good reception. I had decided to add this recording to the list a few weeks ago when I came across the Rolling Stone article about Diamond's virus-related version (which can be found here). Ironically, with the pandemic, it might feel like bad times never seemed so bad, but then, listening to the record, it can remind the listener of when good times never seemed so good, and perhaps that alone can bring some comfort to the present day.

A Dark Weather Report

Song 508: This week the playlist honors Ain't No Sunshine by Bill Withers, who also wrote the song, and you can find a YouTube video of it by clicking on the title. Sadly, Bill left the land of the living a few weeks ago, due to heart complications, and this track provides a good example of why he will be missed. Given the cloudy and snowy weather that has come my way in the past week or two, the cut also seems to fit the current moment quite well, though thankfully, I do still have a female companion to share my living space with, and her company means even more than usual, due to the pandemic situation that continues to surround us. Understanding that It's not warm when she's away, the recent coatings of white stuff add another layer to that appreciation, especially because she's always gone too long any time she goes away. And I know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I ought to leave the young thing alone, particularly since she is a whole 3 years younger than me and she only recently turned 65, but Ain't No Sunshine when she's gone.

A Basic Rule of Fingerboard

Song 507: Seven weeks after my previous personal friend song post, this week on the playlist you can hear A Riff in Time from my good buddy Gregg Cagno, who also wrote the song, and you can find a YouTube video of it by clicking on the title. While I don't recall ever hearing him do this tune during the era when we were hanging around the same stages, the Riff in Time - actually, many of the riffs, along with a few of the lines - certainly do sound familiar. He and I both made our way through many of the same late-night scenes, campfire circles and open-mic dreams, as well as different ones in unrelated spheres, and along those journeys, we both learned this riff that's rollin' around that has been onstage in many a town. Like my good friend, I also heard it first in a Steamroller Blues, and he's correct in asserting that Tradition's passed along with no one keepin' score, so If it sounds good, good chance it's been done before. Perhaps we could call that a basic rule of fingerboard.

Have to Travel

Song 506: This week the playlist applauds Louie Louie by The Kingsmen, written by Richard Berry, and you can find a YouTube video of it by clicking on the title. The main reason to feature this track this week is that Saturday, 4/11, just so happens to be Louie Louie Day. Also, The Kingsmen actually recorded their version on 4/6, so tomorrow will be the 57th anniversary of that particular session, which ended up costing the band $50, according to the Wikipedia article about it. I'd say that the quintet definitely got their money's worth from that studio adventure, and the rest of us got a very captivating spin out of the deal. I don't recall the first time I got to hear the cut, but I believe that at some point during my HS years it showed up on my radar as a classic golden oldie, and I certainly agreed with that assessment. It also didn't take long to learn how to play it, and the piece would often enliven guitar circles that I joined at various events, whether chosen by me or some other member of the group. At such entertaining gatherings, I would rarely think how I'll make it home, but I would enthusiastically jump in with the chorus when it came time to sing Let's go, even though most of us at that moment were not really thinking about leaving.