While the Corvus Soars

 Song 801: This week the playlist applauds As the Crow Flies by Jim Allen, who also wrote the song, and you can find a YouTube video of it by clicking on the title. Seven weeks after my previous personal friend song post, this week's uplifting spin comes from another one from my Fast Folk circle. Back in the 1990s, when we gathered weekly and voiced our latest excursions, Jim probably shared this flying ride at some point, though I don't remember specifically when he might have done that. He did add it to a FF LP in 1992, though, so I definitely got to know it by then, and I really liked picturing a winging black bird roaming around the airspace, but I also understood the importance of paying attention while armies line up on the sly as the crow flies.

Expected Saint Arrival

 Song 800: This week the playlist recognizes Santa Claus is Coming to Town by the Supremes, written by J. Fred Coots and Haven Gillespie, and you can find a cool YouTube video of it by clicking on the title. With the noel holiday set to arrive this week, it seems appropriate to now add this revealing travel plan to the playlist. I learned this Saint Nick narrative, and a bunch of other Yuletide rides, during my single-digit years in the 1950s, and the lucid 1963 version of it quickly got my attention. My brothers and I would sometimes sing along with holiday songs we heard on the TV or radio, but our parents basically only approved of the religious anthems. During our younger years, the folks played the reindeer gift delivery game with us a few times, even though our home's fireplace chimney was too small for a person to fit inside of it. However, once my brothers and I had all reached the age where we knew Mr. Claus did not exist, we understood who really decided if we had been bad or good, and if we wanted to build a toyland all around the Christmas tree, we knew we had to watch out and that we could not pout.

Hispanic Parasite

 Song 799: This week the playlist puts the spotlight on Spanish Flea by Herb Alpert and the Tijuana Brass, written by Julius Wechter, and you can find a YouTube video of it by clicking on the title. In the era after the Beatles rocked my world, I mostly heard about them and their fellow British Invaders, but as my freshman HS year unfolded, the Top 40 excursions got more inclusive, and in the spring of 1966, a rocking instrumental group topped the charts with a wild ride that mainly had trumpets playing the tune's melody. While I generally preferred the vocal stories riding the airwaves, the surprising and unexpected melodic message from the Herb crew roped me in as well. A few years earlier, having no idea about the rocking sounds that would appear, I had decided that the musical instrument I wanted to learn to play was the violin, and I became a fiddler, but then the strong tones I heard coming from the Brass bunch got me wishing I could blow a horn. However, that could not have happened. My working class family had bought me a violin and an acoustic guitar, and the home had an upright piano, but they could not have afforded to also get me a trumpet, so I had to limit my own musical excursions to the possibilities I had already explored, and that actually brought me excellent results!

Donate a Small Amount

 Song 798: This week on the playlist you can hear Give a Little BIt by Supertramp, written by Rick Davies and Roger Hodgson, and you can find a cool YouTube video of it by clicking on the title. As the late fall arrived in the Windy City region in 1977, I looked forward to the coming spring because I planned to say farewell to that area when the warmer weather returned. During that stretch, I spent a lot of time behind the wheel and listened to the radio as I did, often singing along with anthems like this request. When I looked in the mirror back then, I could see the man with the lonely eyes, and in that era, I also wrote my own song about having a female Gimme What I Want. When the higher temperatures returned, I did a quick trip going home to visit my parents in upstate NY, and then, after a brief return to the northern edge of Chicago, in early July I stretched out my thumb towards the west and soon got a long ride that took me to the East Bay of CA.

Greatly Appreciate

 Song 797: This week the playlist recognizes Cherish by The Association, written by Terry Kirkman, and you can find a YouTube video of it by clicking on the title. I probably sang along with this expression of appreciation when it climbed the charts near the end of the summer before my sophomore HS year, but around a year later, it absorbed me even more when someone gave me a copy of the sheet music for the tune. I had begun writing my own songs in early 1965, about a year after the Fab Four rocked my world, as I imitated the moving sounds that had grabbed my ears, but the Cherish sheet music gave me a much clearer view of how others followed the songwriting process as I spent time learning and practicing the song riffs on my family's upright piano. I knew my folks didn't like hearing the devil's music but they generally did allow me to have time with the keyboard when I chose to do so. The fundamentalist church that my family attended included a family that had a daughter a year older than me and I became good friends with her and her brothers. During its Top-40 phase, I found out that she liked Cherish as much as I did, and for a few times we sang the song together - I did the melody and she added a very nice harmony. I felt quite attracted to her and I wished that I could hold her but I also assumed that a senior HS female would not consider the possibility of a romance with a junior HS male.

Fumes Above Liquid

 Song 796: This week the playlist applauds Smoke on the Water by Deep Purple, written by Ritchie Blackmore, Ian Gillan, Roger Glover, Jon Lord and Ian Paice, and you can find a cool YouTube video of it by clicking on the title. As the warmer months of 1973 arrived in the Windy City area, I worked as a cab driver in Evanston, IL, which meant that I spent a lot of time waiting for customers at cab stands on Howard Street, which is at the edge of Chicago. While waiting, I listened to the radio, which shared this fiery gem quite a bit during that stretch, and I really liked hearing the story, though I had no idea at the time about the event that inspired the tune's lyrics. I actually only recently found out about what happened, and that some stupid jerk with a flare gun in the audience at a concert fired the weapon at the ceiling, sparking a fire that burned the place to the ground.

Planetary Absence of Affection

 Song 795: This week the playlist comes around to A World Without Love by Peter and Gordon, written by John Lennon and Paul McCartney, and you can find a YouTube video of it by clicking on the title. The P & G duo that appeared in early 1964 played a role in expanding the British Invasion and their sound similarity to the Fab Four came at least in part from their identical authors. My parents and grandparents did not approve of the devil's music so during the colder months I would sometimes try to listen to a transistor radio in my home's basement. The family did regularly watch the Ed Sullivan Show on Sunday night, so it's possible that I could have seen the duo there, though I don't remember if that happened. As usual, in April of that year I did get to hear the birds sing, although I don't know if they ever did so out of tune. I also saw the rain clouds sometimes hide the moon, and in addition, I strongly hoped that I would someday see my true love smile - at the time, I looked forward to that.

Firing at Earth’s Satellite

 Song 794: This week the playlist puts the spotlight on Shoot the Moon by Hugh Blumenfeld, who also wrote the song, and you can find a YouTube video of it by clicking on the title. Usually I add a friend song to this list every seven weeks, but the last one I did only six weeks after the previous one (780 and 786) so now this one comes eight weeks later, having been created by another one of my Fast Folk buddies. He included the tune on his Rocket Science album that he released back in the late 1990s, during an era when I helped to maintain the FF magazine by doing the layouts for it. A few decades earlier, as a teenager, I rarely stood under the street lamps at night, and even with my toy guns during my single-digit years, I doubt it ever occurred to me to try to shoot the moon. I will never forget, though, that one small step for mankind that I saw on a TV in 1969 when humans actually walked on the moon for the first time.

Keep Me Illuminated

 Song 793: This week on the playlist you can hear Don't Let the Sun Go Down on Me by Elton John, written by him and and Bernie Taupin, and you can find a YouTube video of it by clicking on the title. In early 1974, my wife and I had decided to leave the frigid Windy City area and have a more comfortable environment by moving to Atlanta, GA, so when Elton's request for continued enlightenment arrived around that time, I expected that the two of us would soon have a brighter habitat, and before long, we took a chance and changed our way of life, thereby getting to a shinier region. We found a very nice apartment on the first floor of a house, and we enjoyed spending a lot of time sitting on the home's front porch where we could listen to music we liked and sing along when we felt like doing that. The radio probably shared this glowing anthem quite a bit when we did that, but neither of us ever thought that we had gotten blinded by the light.

Questioning Your Method

 Song 792: This week the playlist recognizes How Do You Do it? by Gerry and the Pacemakers, written by Mitch Murray, and you can find a YouTube video of it by clicking on the title. Soon after the Beatles rocked my world in February of 1964, a bunch of their fellow British Invaders came along and got us younger types going along with their musical rides, including another Liverpool group who asked a question about someone's effective techniques. Back then, as I approached my first teenage year, I could have asked the same question that the singer does in this tune, since I had no idea what sparked my attraction to a certain young female of a similar age. I didn't have a clue as to how she gave me a feeling in my heart, like an arrow passing through it, but I could never find out what triggered that appeal because in the spring of the following year, her family moved on to the West Coast.

Focused on You

 Song 791: This week the playlist applauds So Into You by Atlanta Rhythm Section, written by Perry Carlton "Buddy" Buie, Robert Lafayette Nix and William Dean Daughtry, and you can find a YouTube video of it by clicking on the title. Following my sohomore year at Northwestern University, I spent the summer of 1971 serving as a Southern Baptist missionary in Atlanta, GA. I rode on a plane that landed there on 6/10/71 and that marked the first time I had ever visited a spot south of the Mason-Dixon line. I soon found out about an Allman Brothers quintet that made some interesting sounds, and then about another local rocking group that also sounded really good, so they both got me to appreciate Southern rock. I did get to hear that sextet do at least one Atlanta concert during that summer. I headed back north around the middle of August, and the quintet began to get a lot of attention starting that fall, but the rhythmic sextet did not start catching radio listener ears until around 1977, when this gem topped the charts. At that point, I planned to hitch to California when the next summer came along, and thinking about how it was going to be, I thought it was gonna be good to stretch out my thumb in a westward direction, and it did actually go very well!

Immature Female

 Song 790: This week the playlist comes around to Young Girl by Gary Puckett & The Union Gap, written by Jerry Fuller, and you can find a YouTube video of it by clicking on the title. Back when spring showed up during my junior HS year in 1968, a quintet who identified themselves as a modern musical version of the northern soldiers from the U.S. Civil War era got a bunch of us teenagers singing along with their anthem about the need to end a romantic exchange. For most of my school years growing up, I enjoyed learning about the history of that 1860s conflict and so the Gap's outfits appealed to me. I also liked joining their initial chorus lines, but back then, I often didn't understand many of a song's additional lyrics, and so I didn't really realize that the singer was in fact admitting, as an adult male, to having unknowingly molested an attractive underage feminine charmer who had kept the secret of her youth from his realization.

Questioning Amorous Timing

Song 789: This week the playlist applauds When Will I Be Loved by Linda Ronstadt, written by Phil Everly, and you can find a YouTube video of it by clicking on the title. Ms. Linda had in the early chilly months of 1975 explained to us about our lack of value, and then, just as the warmer months began to arrive, she started asking about when she would receive some proper affection. I lived in the Windy City area at the time, and I always felt relieved when the temperatures began to rise in late March. Spending a lot of time behind the wheel, I regularly got to hear her question mark coming out of the car speakers and I often echoed her queries. I had had a brief romantic exchange four years earlier with a bipolar young woman, and misunderstanding that energy dynamic in my early adult years, I endlessly searched for another lover who could make me feel the same way. Without meaning to do so, I mistreated and made blue a few, but I never cheated, lied to, put down or pushed 'round any of those attractive young women.

I’m Unconcerned

 Song 788: This week on the playlist you can hear It Don't Matter to Me by Bread, written by David Gates, and you can find a YouTube video of it by clicking on the title. At the end of the summer break that followed my freshman year at Northwestern University, around this time 55 years ago, the radio began sharing the sound of a tasty quartet expressing their indifference to a certain other person's actions and it didn't take long to sing along with that disregard. The college only provided residence for first-year pupils, so at the time I had to move into an Evanston apartment a short distance from the campus and I shared an affordable place with a few fellow students. However, I did not have an empty room waiting for me in that place because I had to split my bedroom with another guy. Back then, I didn't know if time was on my side, but I did feel fortunate that at least I had gotten an economical place to reside in the college town.

Your Genuine Possession

 Song 787: This week the playlist recognizes You Really Got Me by The Kinks, written by Ray Davies, and you can find a cool YouTube video of it by clicking on the title. The Fab Four Got Me in February of 1964 and in the next few following months, a bunch of their British Invader colleagues did as well. Near the end of that subsequent summer, as I got close to the beginning of my eighth-grade year, a quartet of Kinks started letting us know about how an attractive female had acquired them, and it didn't take long to learn the lines and sing along with that retaining anthem. Back then, sometimes I couldn't sleep at night for a little bit because I shared a bedroom with my older brother and he often snored, but fortunately he usually didn't keep me awake that long. At that time, I did always wanna be by the side of a special young girl my age, and she really got me going, but we never did actually embrace, and her family left our region at a certain point, so I'll probably never know if she had really wanted to be by my side.

Numerical Duration

 Song 786: This week the playlist puts the spotlight on 20 to Life by Greg Cagno, who also wrote the song, and you can find a YouTube video of it by clicking on the title. Seven weeks after my previous personal friend song post, this week's numerical excursion comes from another one of my Fast Folk colleagues. Back in the early 1990s, he and I would both regularly do solo sets at Spook Handy's weekly open mikes at the Corner Tavern in New Brunswick, and we often enjoyed each other's performances. When I recently saw and heard the YouTube video of this ramble that he performed back in July, I decided to feature it on my next songwriter friend post. Though I know sometimes we can't forget, there might be other times when we do forget, but anyway, just as GC mentions melodically that he's in for the long haul, personally, I'm in for the long haul too.

Impressive Tabby

 Song 785: This week the playlist focuses on Cool Cat by Queen, written by Freddie Mercury and John Deacon, and you can find a YouTube video of it by clicking on the title. Near the end of the summer of 1981, I found out that I'd have to get another place to reside because my room would soon become unavailable, and fortunately, someone moved out of the house in Berkeley where a bunch of my musical friends lived and I got that available space. While I mostly paid attention to the melodic rides coming from that Berkeley circle, I did still listen to the radio as well, and in the spring of 1982 a royal quartet began informing everyone about a groovy feline. For years, I had been wishing and hoping and waiting to really hit the big time, but did it happen? No, it didn't. However, the real reason for missing the big time had nothing to do with speeding too fast.

Rural Pathway

 Song 784: This week the playlist comes around to Country Road by James Taylor, who also wrote the song, and you can find a YouTube video of it by clicking on the title. In my freshman year at Northwestern University, which started in the fall of 1969, I got a subscription to Rolling Stone magazine to keep myself informed about the music that interested me, and I soon found out about this JT fellow. Shortly before the summer arrived and I headed back to my parents' upstate NY home, I bought a few LPs that I thought I'd like, including the new album by Mr. Taylor. I spent much of that summer break working as a counselor for a music and arts camp near Camptown, PA, and during my free time there, I often played my 33s on the turntable in my cabin. I quickly got to know all of the new record's songs, and this particular one inspired me to write a tune that I called Country Highway and which you can see and hear a lyric video of by clicking on the title. Back then, I sometimes thought I could hear a heavenly band full of angels that were coming to set me free, and while they never actually arrived, it did give me a good reason to walk on down, walk on down, walk on down a country road. I had introduced my camp colleagues to sweet baby james and they all really liked his music. Then, about a month after the summer camp ended, the airwaves started letting everyone else know about the Fire And Rain (Song 263).

Inaudible Cardiac Throb

 Song 783: This week the playlist recognizes Can't You Hear My Heartbeat by Herman’s Hermits, written by John Carter and Ken Lewis, and you can find a YouTube video of it by clicking on the title. Not long after the Beatles rocked my world in February of 1964, their fellow British Invaders began catching my ears as well, and I soon started hearing from a reclusive quintet about someone's inability to pick up the nearby sound of someone else's pulsation. It didn't take long to learn the melody for the song title and the spots where it appeared, so I could then sing along with the Herman five whenever their question mark rose out of the transistor radio. At the time, I had an obsession with a young woman my age, but rarely did I see her lookin' my way. I don't think she ever did move up closer to me, so I would bet that she never did hear the pounding of my heartbeat.

The Week’s Final Evening

 Song 782: This week the playlist puts the spotlight on Saturday Night by Bay City Rollers, written by Bill Martin and Phil Coulter, and you can find a YouTube video of it by clicking on the title. Near the end of the summer of 1975 I started hearing about how to enjoy the weekend darker hours, and while I personally had no problem spelling the final day of the week, I would bet this song did help some younger listeners get more adept at that. Unlike plenty of others I've known for most of my life, I rarely if ever cared about keeping cool in the summer, but living in the Windy City area at the time, I did not like dealing with the colder months in that region, and during the next winter season, I found out from a TV show about the moderate temperatures of the California Bay City area, which triggered me to start planning a move in that direction. At first I thought I'd head west in the summer of 1976, but then some dental complications made me decide I had to postpone the trip for two years, and I didn't stick my thumb out in the westward direction until July of 1978, when I finally did get to rock it up, roll it up, do it all and have a ball getting some free rides that took me to the Bay City.

Enjoyable Possibility

 Song 781: This week the playlist applauds Wouldn't It Be Nice by The Beach Boys, written by Brian Wilson, Tony Asher and Mike Love, and you can find a cool YouTube video of it by clicking on the title. I did not initially pay much attention to the L.A. shoreline quintet when they first started riding the airwaves, but by the time this attractive question mark rose into the TOP 40 in the summer after my freshman HS year, it felt good to sing along with their suggestions about pleasurable experience. However, I highly doubt I knew the line about how the couple could Hold each other close the whole night through, since the erotic implications there would have made it harder for me to justify my admiration for the devil's music that my folks commonly criticized. Of course now, almost six decades later, it sounds ironic to suggest that it would be nice to be older, but at the end of the day, we can all still say goodnight to each other and pass on a sleep tight thought.

Endless Expression

 Song 780: Seven weeks after my previous personal friend song post, this week's melodic lift Always Have A Song to Sing comes from one of my New Brunswick buddies Spook Handy, who also wrote the song, and you can find a YouTube video of it by clicking on the title. When I first moved from California to Brooklyn in September of 1988, I initially focused on performance spots in NYC, but fairly soon, I found out about folkie gatherings in other nearby places, and I started regularly going to open mics held in a New Brunswick night club that got managed by a Handy guy. I appreciated his tunes as much as he liked mine, and we kept in touch for years. However, after I waved good-bye to Highland Park and headed for upstate NY, I didn't maintain connections with some friends there. It did surprise me, and make me smile, when I got a phone call from Spook a few months ago. After that conversation, I realized that I hadn't yet included him in my playlist, so I decided to feature him at the next appropriate time. When I looked at his YouTube video collection, the title here caught my eye, even though I hadn't heard it before, and giving it a few listens, it really moved me, because all of us singer/songwriter types always, always, always have a song to sing.

Sunlight Traveler

 Song 779: This week the playlist swings to Day Tripper by The Beatles, written by John Lennon and Paul McCartney, and you can find a YouTube video of it by clicking on the title. In the era after the Fab Four rocked my world in February of 1964, I mostly paid attention to them and their fellow British Invaders, but by the time the final month of the following year arrived, I had widened my focus to much of the rest of The Top 40, so this enlightening ride reminded me of the origin of my attraction to heavy rhythms. I had used the lessons the radio taught me to begin writing my own songs, and this particular outing gave me a shining example of how to expand a composition around a single riff. I had begun considering that possibility in the previous summer after hearing about some turning rocks having a lack of Satisfaction (Song 256) and then Paul & Co. gave me a much clearer understanding of how to do that. In fact, having the radio taking me on this ride, it did NOT take me so long to find out how to write my own riff excursions.

During the Warm Season

 Song 778: This week on the playlist you can hear In The Summertime by Mungo Jerry, written by Ray Dorset, and you can find a cool YouTube video of it by clicking on the title. At the end of my freshman year at Northwestern University, I returned to my parents' home in upstate NY for the 1970 summer vacation, and then got hired as a counselor for a northern PA music and arts camp. I spent the warmer months in a very attractive rural area, and I liked helping youngsters have a better understanding of the way musical notes ride their scales. Sometimes we counselors would listen to the radio during our breaks, and this heated seasonal description often gave us a clearer sense of our comfortable dwelling. In fact, it occasionally made us feel that we could stretch right up and touch the sky, and it also encouraged us to go out and see what we could find nearby in that woodland area.

Identify the Reason

 Song 777: This week the playlist focuses on Because by The Dave Clark Five, written by Dave Clark, and you can find a YouTube video of it by clicking on the title. Not long after the Fab Four rocked my world in February of 1964, a bunch of their fellow British Invaders started catching my ears, including the D. Clark quintet who shared their motivation and also their widespread pleasure (Glad All Over, which is Song 606). I would get to hear a free live set by those Five the following spring, though I don't know if they performed this song that day. I did understand, though, even back then, that It's right that I should care about my romantic partner and try to make her happy when she's blue. It's right to feel the way I do because, because, I love her.

Circadian Occurrence

 Song 776: This week the playlist recognizes Day After Day by Badfinger, written by Pete Ham, and you can find a YouTube video of it by clicking on the title. When I returned to my Evanston, IL, apartment in September of 1971, after having acted as a summer missionary in Atlanta, GA, one of my friends introduced me to an attractive young woman he knew that I soon developed a strong romantic relationship with, and in light of our daily passionate exchanges, this tune that we started hearing a couple of months later gave a good background sound for that situation where I could give my love to someone who liked receiving it, and who gave me her love in return. On a side note, I did not have a lonely room in that apartment since I had to share it with another guy, but perhaps one, or both, of the other apartment mates could have had a lonely room since they each slept in a room by themselves.

Precipitation Pattern

 Song 775: This week the playlist comes around to Rhythm Of the Rain by The Cascades, written by John Claude Gummoe, and you can find a YouTube video of it by clicking on the title. Ordinarily you might think April would be the appropriate month to highlight this classic, but in the Northeast, we had a lot of wet weather in May and the first half of June, with the coming week's forecast so far indicating more of the same pattern. I might possibly have heard this drizzle anthem when it first appeared in the fall of 1962, but before the Fab Four rocked my world in February of 1964, I rarely paid attention to the airwaves. Around the middle of the next decade, though, as I resided in Evanston, IL, as a young adult, at least one radio station in the area had shows that featured hits from that first rocking decade, and I soon got to know this one well enough to sing along when it rose out of the speakers. Back then, I did sometimes listen to the rhythm of the falling rain telling me what a fool I had been, and that pitter patter lesson gave me a clearer idea of which direction to head towards in the near future.

Final Coach to a Scribe Town

 Song 774: This week the playlist puts the spotlight on Last Train To Clarksville by The Monkees, written by Tommy Boyce and Bobby Hart, and you can find a YouTube video of it by clicking on the title. When I found the YouTube video for last week's song Monkey See, Monkey Do, the tune’s title was misspelled Monkee See, Monkee Do, even though it was spelled correctly on the LP that has it and the FF print issue that came with the 33, so it makes sense to feature a ride this week by the 1960s primate quartet. This rolling excursion introduced me to them in the late summer of 1966, shortly before I began my sophomore HS year, and I probably first heard it on the transistor radio, since at that point I often spent time outside in the family home's back yard in the warmer months catching the Top 40, and singing along with the ones I recognized. Soon enough, I also started viewing The Monkees TV show whenever I could watch it without the folks who disapproved of the devil's music shutting it off, and I know I caught this tune there at least a couple of times. In addition, during that era I developed an interest in model railroads, so it felt enjoyable to sing about meeting someone at the station around the time when the morning brings the train.

Primate Observation and Action

 Song 773: This week on the playlist you can hear Monkey See, Monkey Do by Josh Joffen, who also wrote the song, and you can find a YouTube video of it by clicking on the title. Seven weeks after my previous personal friend song post, this week's playful outline comes from one of my Fast Folk colleagues. He had written it a few years before I met him, and the recording of it comes from an April 1988 appearance that the FF group did at The Bottom Line in Manhattan. I started hanging out with the FF bunch not long after I moved to Brooklyn in September of 1988, and fairly soon, Josh and I both did solo performances at live events where I did the driving in my van to get us to the stage. It didn't take long to learn a lot of the lines from this ride, and I probably could have added a harmony to it during those onstage events if he had wanted me to do that. It's been a long time since those halcyon days, and back then, Josh warned everyone that sooner or later there is gonna be a hell of a sound. Fortunately, it hasn't happened yet, but in recent years, I have gotten more concerned as some public figures seem to want to push us over that nuclear brink, and if they succeed, there'll be nothing left to pass around.

Periods of Bright Enlightenment

 Song 772: This week the playlist applauds Seasons in the Sun by Terry Jacks, written by Jacques Brel and Rod McKuen, and you can find a YouTube video of it by clicking on the title. Back in the middle of the Windy City frigid months of early 1974, my wife and I waved farewell to Evanston, IL, and moved down to a moderate and comfortable neighborhood in Atlanta, GA. A couple of months later, this Jacks fellow started reminding us all that spring was in the air, and it didn't take long to learn, and then sing along with, his rhymes about having joy and having fun during the seasons in the sun. Living in that area, we did get to hear all the birds more clearly when they were singing in the sky, and five decades later, now residing in a semi-rural area, I also have the pleasure of hearing those flyers crooning in the nearby airspace. In fact, my Western Dreams CD project for this year will include a tune in which I ask a blackbird to Sing on the Window (the song’s title).

Repetitive Neurotic Crash

 Song 771: This week the playlist recognizes 19th Nervous Breakdown by The Rolling Stones, written by Keith Richards and Mick Jagger, and you can find a YouTube video of it by clicking on the title. At first, when the Fab Four rocked my world in February of 1964, I mostly paid attention to them and a few other similar British Invaders, but then, in the summer of 1965, I tuned into a rougher English quintet that became their top competitors by expressing a lack of Satisfaction (Song 256). When those moving rockers released this single nine months later, during the winter of 1966, I soon could sing along with it too. Having a mother who had had numerous nervous breakdowns, the chorus lines had some depth for me, though I did not truly understand the term at the time. Back then, a lot of people saw mental problems as an indication that someone was never brought up right, but, in reality, the ones who were always spoiled did not inevitably slide over the mental edge. I got to a much clearer understanding of nervous breakdowns a couple of decades ago, and I try to pass that understanding along to others with my book Expecting the Broken Brain to Do Mental Pushups. You can get a copy of the latest edition of that book from Amazon by clicking on the title.

Mood Stabilizer

 Song 770: This week the playlist puts the spotlight on Lithium by Nirvana, written by Kurt Cobain, and you can find a cool YouTube video of it by clicking on the title. When this single arrived in the summer of 1992, I thought it sounded good, but it didn't grab my attention the way a couple of other Nirvana ones did - one before, called Come as You Are (Song 513), and one after, called Heart-Shaped Box (Song 200). When the Cobain suicide story unfolded two years after it came along, I still had no understanding of the pain that people on the low end of bipolar disorder suffer, and at the time, I disparaged Kurt as another cry-baby junkie. I suspected that the tune's title actually slyly admitted Mr. KC's prescription, and his later actions might have indicated the drug's inadequacy at helping the problems in his head. Understanding these mental dynamics now way more than I did then, I get how a guy could be so happy, so ugly, so lonely, so excited and so horny. On a side note, if you'd like to know more about these mental conditions, I share my own experience of learning about them in my book Expecting the Broken Brain to Do Mental Pushups, and you can get a copy from Amazon of the latest edition of it by clicking on the title.

Bipolar Disorder

 Song 769: This week the playlist comes around to Manic Depression by the Jimi Hendrix Experience, written by Jimi, and you can find a YouTube video of it by clicking on the title. Jimi included this gem in his first released album, which arrived in the U.S. in the late summer of 1967, but I would not get to hear the tune until I bought the record in the fall of 1970. I first encountered the term in the song's title two years earlier, soon after the beginning of my senior HS year, and what I read at the time was that those with the condition tended to make mountains out of molehills. My first thought in reaction to that phrase was that everyone does that to some extent, and I saw no reason to give any further attention to the ailment. When I got Jimi's album, I gave it lots of spins on the turntable, and I liked all of what I heard, including this diagnosis, but I wondered if Mr. Hendrix was playing a word game with the term. I knew that we songwriters sometimes do that, so I didn't necessarily connect him with the condition in the piece. When, three decades later, I got to the point of having to understand the nature of that problem, I thought it quite likely that he did have bipolar disorder. Then, about another decade later, as I figured out the connection between the manic phase and a charismatic quality that manic types sometimes exude, seeing video footage of JH performing made it clear to me that Manic Depression had indeed captured his soul. If you'd like to know more about manic depression/bipolar disorder, I share my own experience of learning about it in my book Expecting the Broken Brain to Do Mental Pushups, and you can get a copy from Amazon of the latest edition of it by clicking on the title.

Required Downpour

 Song 768: This week the playlist applauds Rain Must Fall by Queen, who also wrote the song, and you can find a YouTube video of it by clicking on the title. My final playlist tune for April of this year has a title that gets said a lot in my region during this month. Back when Queen started to give us all a forecast about necessary precipitation in May of 1989, I had returned to the East Coast the previous September, after having spent a decade in the East Bay. In that area, the rainy season would have ended by May, but in NYC, the record's timing seemed quite appropriate. At that point, I had joined the Fast Folk circle, and I spent more time listening to my folkie colleagues than I did tuning into the radio, but certain airwave sounds would still get my attention. Back then, some folks did seem to think that others were over-dramatizing problems at work, whereas now, a lot less workers have the position to call the shots, and even for the few that do have it, into every life a little rain must fall.

Spring Arrival

 Song 767: This week on the playlist you can hear April Come She Will by Simon & Garfunkel, written by Paul Simon, and you can find a YouTube video of it by clicking on the title. This positive prediction came along during the frigid months of my freshman HS year, giving us all a good reason to anticipate the expected arrival of moderate climate in the spring of 1966. While I might have heard it a few times on the radio, the main place I got to hear it was at my best friend's house. My close buddy Ed had become a big fan of the folkie duo and he had acquired all of their LPs, so whenever I would visit him during our HS years, as I often did, he would spin all of those 33s on his turntable. As a result, I soon got very familiar with their entire collection of captivating musical adventures, to the point that I could have sung along with a foresight about how a romantic partner would come during a certain warming time frame, would stay the following month and then change her tune a month later, so that when the hot weather arrived, she would fly.

Whirled Imagination

 Song 766: Seven weeks after my previous personal friend song post, this week's fanned forecast Windblown Mind comes from my top CA partner Jeff Larson, who also wrote the song, and you can find a YouTube video of it by clicking on the title. During my decade in the East Bay, I mainly hung out with the Berkeley singer/songwriter circle, but I had one other close musical buddy that I hooked up with about a year after I hitch-hiked into the area. We saw each other do a set on a San Francisco stage and we each liked what we heard the other do, so we soon developed a chummy musical camaraderie, and we briefly became a melodic duo. I think I first heard him do this tune in 1983 or 1984, and I liked what I heard. However, I also had a song with that title and some similar lines, so I decided to change mine to Windblown Rhymes, which I included on my 1985 cassette Going My Way. Even four decades ago, I already knew I would have no way to find all the strays I've left behind, and that list has gotten a lot longer since then, but I still might at some point hear a sound to set me free.

Extended Breezy Dame

 Song 765: This week the playlist recognizes Long Cool Woman by the Hollies, written by Allan Clarke, Roger Cook and Roger Greenaway, and you can find a YouTube video of it by clicking on the title. Fifty-two years ago this month, as a U.K. quintet started informing listeners about a lengthy crispy female, my romance with a cool woman began another chapter, though I would not have called her long - she was about an inch-and-a-half shorter than me, so that made her three inches shorter than the tune's chilly star. While at the time I did enjoy singing along with the title, I don't think I had any idea back then about the piece's law enforcement TV show narrative. I never saw a pair of 45's that were weapons, since I never went to a bootlegging boozer on the west side, or anywhere else. The 45s that I knew about during that era were discs, NOT pistols.

Want to Make Rhythmic Moves?

 Song 764: This week the playlist puts the spotlight on Do You Wanna Dance? by The Mamas and The Papas, written by Bobby Freeman, and you can find a YouTube video of it by clicking on the title. The Mamas and The Papas had roped me in during the spring of 1966 with their chart topper about the first work day of the week. I had struggled for over two years to try to avoid the devil's music if possible because of my family's religious disapproval of it, but when that Monday, Monday (Song 302) saga came along, I could no longer resist the captivating sounds. A few months later, when my family went to visit my father's relatives in Ohio, we spent one night staying with his brother and family, as we usually did. However, this time around, the place had a very different appearance. My father's brother had built the home's basement many years before, and previously when we visited, we stayed in that basement along with all of his family, but since our trip two years earlier, he had finally constructed a very impressive two-story house on top of that basement. On this visit, at a certain point, my cousin welcomed me into his nice new bedroom and put his If You Can Believe Your Eyes and Ears LP on his turntable. I relished hearing the whole record, which included this pleasing question. Of course, I could never admit to anyone in my family, other than my younger brother, that I might wanna dance, because fundamentalists also disparaged that activity as a sinful move, and you could only make romance and squeeze a lover all through the night after you had a legal wedding that the church approved.

Cherished Aspirations

 Song 763: This week on the playlist you can hear Dreams by Fleetwood Mac, written by Stevie Nicks, and you can find a YouTube video of it by clicking on the title. As the temperatures started to get warmer in the Windy City region in late March of 1977, I began to have Dreams about heading to the West Coast, but I also knew that I couldn't turn such fantasies into a reality until the next year, due to dental problems that would take some time to repair. Because I planned to leave the Chicago area the following year, I did not add Rumours to my LP collection, as much as I would have enjoyed having the disc, but I sure did appreciate hearing the record's shining tales on the local radio station. During that period, I spent a lot of time behind the driver's wheel, and part of that time got enlightened by the radio sounds, while thunder only happened when it was raining. Often I would see the crystal visions of where I planned to go, and then, in July of the following year, I did get to stretch my thumb out in that western direction.

Mode of Transportation

 Song 762: This week the playlist applauds Vehicle by Ides of March, written by Jim Peterik, and you can find a YouTube video of it by clicking on the title. I greatly widened my musical horizons on the very day that I got to my university dormitory in the fall of 1969, soon becoming good friends with other male students on my floor in that facility who had very impressive disc collections. On top of hearing some amazing classic rockers that I hadn't previously known about, though, I would also sometimes tune in to the local hit radio, since I only shared my living space with one other guy who liked rock, rather than residing in the home of a family that disparaged the devil's music. When this remarkable mover started riding the airwaves around this time of year in 1970, sometimes I had pictures, I had candy and of course I considered myself a lovable young man, but I did not have a vehicle, so I could not take someone to the nearest star, or anywhere else that they might wanna go.

Meandering Replies

Song 761: This week the playlist comes around to Blowin' in the Wind by Peter, Paul and Mary, written by Bob Dylan, and you can find a YouTube video of it by clicking on the title. Back in my single-digit years, I would sometimes hear.a song I liked coming from a radio nearby, but I didn't generally pay much attention to them. However, early on during my second decade, a musical trio started getting plenty of recognition in the summer of 1963 from an anthem about rambling answers to major questions, and it soon became the first current hit that got a lot of my focus. The folkie style wouldn't have bothered my parents the way the devil's music did when it showed up six months later, and the values expressed in the lyrics seemed to align with basic Christian concepts, so I saw no conflict between my religion and the hit. I quickly learned the songwriter's name, and over the next few years I would notice that moniker a few times, such as with Mr. Tambourine Man (Song 326), but I wouldn't actually hear his voice until I got to my college dormitory. When I first heard the breezy song, I didn't know how many roads I'd have to walk down before people would call me a man, but even now, no matter how many times some of the cannonballs did fly since then, I don't expect them to get forever banned any time soon! 

500 Years from Now

 Song 760: This week the playlist recognizes In the Year 2525 by Zager and Evans, written by Rick Evans, and you can find a cool YouTube video of it by clicking on the title. Around the time that I went to the graduation ceremony where I got my HS certification in June of 1969, I started hearing a folkie duo expressing their musical predictions of the distant future, and while I had no way to evaluate the validity of their prophetic assertions, I did enjoy listening to their melodic foresights. Actually, still living with a fundamentalist family at the time, I believed that the rapture would come along at some point in the near future, and I did not expect human civilization to even make it to the first quarter of the 21st century, so back then, I felt certain that humans would never get to that same point in the 26th one! Now I don't really know, and I do not dismiss the threat of nuclear armageddon, but currently I do know that sometimes when you have something to do, maybe some machine's doin' that for you, and possibly humanity will advance to the point that if someone wants a child, they can pick a son and pick a daughter too from the bottom of a glass tube.

Amusement As the Only Option

 Song 759: Seven weeks after my previous personal friend song post, this week's entertaining ramble All You Can Do is Laugh comes from another one of my Fast Folk colleagues, Jeff Tareila, who also wrote the song, and you can find a YouTube video of it by clicking on the title. Not long after I moved from Berkeley, CA, to Brooklyn, NY, in September of 1988, I found out about the weekly songwriter gathering at Jack Hardy's Manhattan apartment, and that soon became a regular part of my schedule. Getting into the FF circle, I became good friends with JT, to the point that when he had a wedding a few years later, my romantic partner and I got to attend that marriage ceremony. For much of my adult life, both before and after that event, some people have told me that certain difficulties I experience stem from my hair, and if I would just cut it all off, I would really get somewhere. How does someone respond to such advice? All you can do is laugh!

Unable to Purchase Passion

 Song 758: This week the playlist puts the spotlight on Can't Buy Me Love by The Beatles, written by Paul McCartney and originally credited to him and John Lennon, and you can find a cool YouTube video of it by clicking on the title. About a month after the Fab Four rocked my world in February of 1964, they had another amazing chart topper getting everyone's attention. It didn't take long to learn the chorus lines and melody of the anthem about the lack of a connection between cash and affection, so I could soon sing along with it when the radio featured it. During those school years, a class I attended would sometimes do a field trip to NYC to visit places there such as the Bronx Zoo, and on those trips, we would get to hear the bus's radio station playing the Top 40. On one of those excursions, which I think happened in the spring of 1965, while riding on a freeway in Manhattan, we riders got to hear this Beatles classic, which at that point had already become a golden oldie. Growing up in a working-class family back then, I would truly have appreciated a romantic partner that valued the kind of things that money just can't buy.

Moving on Nothing

 Song 757: This week on the playlist you can hear Running on Empty by Jackson Browne, who also wrote the song, and you can find a YouTube video of it by clicking on the title. I recently realized that I had gotten to quite a high number on this list while only including three Browne tunes in it, so now at least I'll have a fourth one by him as part of the group. I initially started seeing his name as the writer of a few notable recordings by Tom Rush that I really liked, and then in early 1972 he released his own first LP, which featured his hit Doctor My Eyes (Song 286). I soon added that 33 to my collection, and it got lots of spins on the turntable. However, by the time the album that included this title track came along, in December of 1977, I did not buy one of those because I already intended to point my thumb towards the west when the next warmer months arrived, and I had started unloading my pile of 33s and 45s. Still, I really did like hearing, and singing along with, this moving lift, especially when sitting behind the driver's wheel myself, as I often did during that era. Back then, even with the road regularly rushing under my wheels, rarely, if ever, would I find myself running blind, or even running behind.

Blustery Air Movement

 Song 756: This week the playlist recognizes Windy by The Association, written by Ruthann Friedman, and you can find a YouTube video of it by clicking on the title. Over the past week, in my area we had a couple of breezy days where we had some major amounts of moving air that brought down a few tree branches, so it seems like the appropriate moment to feature this gusty ride, which first raised listeners' ears in the summer of 1967. At that point I got to hear the top 40 on the transistor radio, which I would often do in the back yard during the warmer weather, since that way, I wouldn't have to make noise near the folks who disparaged the devil's music. In my HS years, I also had a friend who sold me cheaply his singles when he got tired of hearing them, so I might have had this 45 in my collection soon after it dropped from the charts. Giving that disc lots of spins on my single player would have moved me to start reaching out to capture a moment.