This is a magical song–pure analog bliss. I’m walking on the beach listening to the waves. I’m sitting in a cafe in Paris drinking a glass of Red Wine. I’m taking a drive, late at night, on an empty highway. I’m taking down a massive pot after value betting the full-house I caught on the river.

There is a lot to learn from the music of Traffic. It’s timeless. It’s epic. And it rocks hard. I’m not sure what the title of the song means. Any ideas? Have a listen.

Part 1:

Part 2

The interface works almost identically to Twitter, with a couple of other music oriented features. With Twitter you have followers and with Blip you get listeners. The other community aspect is that when someone likes a tune that you Blip — they give you “props”. It seems like the more props and @mentions you give and get — the more listeners one acquires. This makes you feel incredibly important and self-satisfied. There are people on Blip with something like 12,000 listeners. I’m not sure how they’ve accumulated that many listeners; although, I imagine it comes from spending a lot time blipping. This to me — will eventually be the down fall of Blip unless the admin starts practicing a little quality control.

All in all the popularity contest is pretty silly, but I still dig the site as an opportunity to create online play lists for free. And I have to say, there is a certain satisfaction that comes when some random Joe from Dayton gives me props for throwing up an old Avail tune.

Also, I heard the Real Kids today on the Underground Garage for the first time, and was blown away by their sound. And the tune “Glad”, by Traffic, is as good as Grandma’s oatmeal cookies. How about Wire’s first album, Pink Flag? I am ashamed to say I only came to discover that album last month. Not too many bands can say they were doing post-punk before the hey day’s of punk was even over.

Okay, time to feed the baby, and come check me out on Blip if you get a chance.

Cheers to the guy who invented summer.

The Story: (go to the bottom of this post to download or stream)

1. The Boys — “Monotony”
2. Small Faces — “Tin Soldier”
3. Brant Bjork — “Punk Rock Guilt”
4. Toots & The Maytals — “Time Tough”
5. Seam — “Petty Thievery”
6. Halo Benders — “On a Tip”
7. Drive by Truckers — “Marry Me”
8. King Khan and the Shrines — “No Regrets”
9. Humble Pie — “I Don’t Need No Doctor”

Picking out the records is always fun — yet stressful. That’s because every song counts. And keeping within the spirit of competitive male bonding — someone always wins.

Throughout the week, I’m making out my set list with the hope that I will impress all my buddies with a rare Pretty Things LP or some out-of-print Badfinger album I picked up for $3 at a flea market in Maine. Phrases like: “Hey man, who is this?” or “Can I see the liner notes?” earn big points. Excessive talking during your set about other bands people are currently listening to is a bad sign.

It was on one of those nights a few years back that I came in contact with Chubby Checker’s psychedelic album, New Revelation. I don’t recall the name Chubby Checker ever conjuring thoughts of greatness, just “The Twist”. Before he slapped the album on the record player a fellow competitor declared: “This album isn’t what you think. After this, you will never again think of Chubby Checker as the dancing clod from American Bandstand.”

Initially, I was skeptical, and exclaimed, “I don’t know, dude. Chubby Checker is definitely not cool.”

Then he hit play and the song “Goodbye Victoria” erupted. That’s when I apologized. “I should have never doubted you,” I said.

The first track was a stirring groove that slapped me in the face with cool water, and then Chubby:  “We’ll be in heaven. In the light of day,” I don’t fully understand why this song is so good. There are organ solos that merge into piano interludes. Chubby’s voice is deep and powerful. Everything fits together in a room where nothing makes sense.

During the chorus, Chubby talks a little more about Victoria. He says, “Goodbye Victoria. Everyone is going to the moon.” That’s deep.

Either way, I like it. I don’t necessarily get it — but I sure as shit dig it. So here’s to Chubby. And here’s to “Man Night”. And here’s to you.

Since then I’ve been moving steadily through the early Deep Purple catalog, and have to say they are one of the coolest sounding rock/blues/heavy metal bands I never listened to. Damn, was I missing out. Tunes like Lazy, Space Cowboy, and Into the Fire have hooks that send me into a zone of unbalanced clarity. I love that that there is still so much undiscovered greatness out there. Half the fun is the chase.

Classic Albums is the perfect show to gain a quick peek into the inner workings of producing an album. The best part of the show is when they take you behind the sound board, while band members detail their recollections about about the making of a particular song. For example, I never knew the story behind “Smoke on the Water” and always had this more or less nauseated opinion of the song. The reality is it’s an interesting story about a fire at a hotel where the band was recording. Also, Richie Blackmore’s hooks on that song are far more complex than Joey GuitarHero thinks.Subtle nuances like that, along with a healthy dose of the rock, keep the casual listener like myself extremely engaged.

There aren’t too many quality TV shows out there — so it’s nice to come across a bit of media that puts a smile on this guy’s face.