Farewell Romantic Companion

 Song 578: This week the playlist recognizes Bye Bye Love by The Everly Brothers, written by David Richards and Richard Julian, and you can find a YouTube video of it by clicking on the title. I had originally planned to feature a different tune tonight, but then Don Everly passed away a week ago yesterday, on August 21, so this became an appropriate moment to debut him and his sibling on the playlist. Of course it's ironic that a guy who sang the line I feel like I could die at the age of 20 would make it nearly halfway through his 88th year, and we can appreciate the fact that he did both of these things. I don't recall exactly when this cut first got my attention, but I do know that it enriched my single-digit years well before the new decade arrived. The hit topped the country charts as well as the rock ones, so it could easily grace my family circle in the era when it appeared. I also remember it coming across the airwaves as a shining golden oldie at least a couple of times during my HS stretch, and I relished its glow. In addition, I could tell how much Phil and Don had influenced other duos like the Simon and Garfunkel pair, and had done so in a very favorable way. Sadly, due to the current pandemic situation, a lot of people have had to say bye bye happiness, hello loneliness, and hello emptiness, knowing that they're through with counting the stars above. However, maybe someday we'll get beyond this trauma and again have a reason to be so free.

A Rocking Feline

 Song 577: Seven weeks after my previous personal friend song post, this week's furry ramble Pussy Cat comes from another one of my Fast Folk colleagues, Richard Julian, written by David Richards and Richard Julian, and you can find a YouTube video of it by clicking on the title. RJ was actually the one who introduced me to the FF bunch, telling me one night at the Speakeasy club about where and when to join the group's weekly meetings, which I did at their very next gathering. I spent a lot of time as part of that circle over the next few years, but in early 1994 I drifted away. However, a couple of years later, while working with David Seitz and his independent record company Prime CD, he got involved with Fast Folk, and so I did the graphic work for the Rebirth CD (volume 8, issue 7) for which David did the recording work, and which includes this track. When I got to hear the disc, this cut quickly grabbed my attention. In fact, it played a role in inspiring my feline anthem It Takes a Cat, which I recently did a YouTube lyric video for that you can check out by clicking on the title. 25 years after this gem arrived, it still looks like we better make a new plan or we're gonna land down in the hole shovelling coal. Even so, it also still feels good to imagine that one can see the cat chasing the air, leaping and swinging like there's something there - that pussy cat in a rocking chair with big gray eyes and a curious stare.

A Blazing Circle

 Song 576: This week the playlist comes around to Ring of Fire by Johnny Cash, written by June Carter and Merle Kilgore, and you can find a YouTube video of it by clicking on the title. Growing up in a family where the parents and grandparents did not approve of the devil's music (RnR) but who had no objections to C&W (country and western), and having Ohio relatives that we visited every other summer who were major country fans, during the 1960s I often knew a lot more about C&W chart movers than I did about the RnR ones. Even before the 1960s arrived, I relished a couple of JC singles (I Walk the Line and Don't Take Your Guns to Town). Around the time I turned 11, another Cash 45 came along - Busted (Song 447). I liked that spinner quite a bit, and then he followed it up with this hit, which moved me even more, and which made the newer decade sound more lively, a good 9 months before a quartet called The Fab Four took the music scene up to a whole new level. Back in the era when this blazer lit up the charts, we already knew that love is a burning thing and it makes a fiery ring, bound by wild desire, and now, nearly 6 decades later, the taste of love is still as sweet as it ever was.

An Extended Chronology

 Song 575: This week on the playlist you can hear Tomorrow Is a Long Time by Judy Collins, written by Bob Dylan, and you can find a YouTube video of it by clicking on the title. It seems a bit ironic to get to this high a figure before including a gem that I considered my #1 favorite recording back in the early 1970s, when I finished my second decade and started a third one. Ms. Judy Blue Eyes (as in Suite: Judy Blue Eyes, which is Song 566) first appeared on my radar, as did Joni Mitchell, when Both Sides Now rose up the charts in the fall of my senior HS year, and the following year, as a freshman at N.U., my musical horizons greatly expanded and I listened to a lot more of the folkie types who would strongly influence the original singer/songwriter style that I put together in that era. When I first heard this piece it topped my list, and I always relished the way JC enlivened a Dylan sparkler with a melodic acoustic guitar frame. I admired Mr. Zimmerman's rough edgy approach, but I also liked it when folks such as Ms. Judy added a compelling tuneful element to one of his treasures. Once again, with all the pandemic question marks still hanging in the air, today can feel like an endless highway, tonight can look like a crooked trail, and tomorrow can seem like a long time, but I'd say there still is beauty in the silver singin' river and there is beauty in the sunrise in the skies. I understand that currently some can't remember the sound of their own names, but I can, and tonight I plan to lie in my bed once again.

Attached Amiable Youngster

 Song 574: This week on the playlist you’ll find Sweet Child o' Mine by Guns N' Roses, written by Axl Rose, Slash, Izzy Stradlin, Duff McKagan and Steven Adler, and you can find a YouTube video of it by clicking on the title. After featuring a Sweet Child last week, this time around, the spotlight shines on another particular affectionate young one. This strong rumbler arrived a few months before I left Berkeley and headed back to the East Coast, and I got to hear it a few times as I prepared for my journey. Knowing that I would soon leave behind an attractive temperate region and return to an area that has seasonal temperature extremes, I had my own answer to the question Where do we go now? Today, almost 33 years after that trip, hearing the query again really resonates, but in a totally different way. I could not have foreseen the kind of pandemic scenario that has unfolded over the last year and a half, but perhaps if we pray in the right way for the thunder and the rain to quietly pass us by, maybe we will figure out what to say when someone asks us Where do we go now?