“I wasn’t bound to a style,” Al Kooper has said. He was talking about his guitar playing but just as easily could have been talking about the totality of Al Kooper, songwriter, musician, singer, producer, band director. “If anything, I was known for being in the right place at the right time and playing the right thing.” Kooper has been at the heart of rock & roll’s time/space continuum for much of its history.

Southside Johnny and the Asbury Jukes emerged from the New Jersey Shore in 1974. Though they carried a significant influence (and some key personnel) from Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band, the Jukes evolved as more of a white R&B horn band in the Memphis tradition embodied by Stax Records. Organized by singer John “Southside Johnny” Lyon, guitarist and songwriter Steve Van Zandt (who decamped for the E Street Band in 1975 but continued to produce, manage, and write songs for the Jukes), and Richie “La Bamba” Rosenberg, the band is well known for its high-energy live shows and no-holds-barred songs.

The Jukes’ brand of raucous soul, roots-tinged rock, and bluesy reverie has flourished across the band’s long career. Rolling Stone named Hearts of Stone one of the top 100 albums of the 1970s and ’80s.

This is the story of a love song that sings from beyond the grave.

Lovin’ You started life as a lullaby for baby Maya Rudolph, the child of singer Minnie Riperton and songwriter Richard Rudolph. Stevie Wonder, who co-produced the record, plays the gorgeous electronic keyboard accompaniment. It was a late-entry addition to MInnie’s solo album Perfect Angel, and the baby oriented lyrics had to be adapted to make it more about romantic love. But the gentle feeling of bliss it conveys is a perfect rendering of maternal devotion, and to insure the communication of its original intent Minnie chants: “Maya, Maya, Maya, Maya” at the end - (a secret message to the future), before the record fades out.

Four years later Minnie Riperton was dead from breast cancer, and young Maya was deprived of her mother’s earthly presence. But her song of maternal love plays on.

At the time of its release, Lovin’ You went to the top of the charts, buoyed by Minnie’s extraordinary range, showcasing an unearthly cascade of descending notes. Listening to the song 50 years on, the composition, with its edenic landscape of ethereal chords and birdsong, and the voice of a perfect angel at the center - is the personification of a Sunny Song.

February 18th of this year would have been Lee Marvin's 100th birthday.

ROGER EBERT'S 1973 REVIEW OF "THE ICEMAN COMETH"

"There isn't a bad performance in the film, but there are three of such greatness they mesmerize us. The best is by the late Robert Ryan, as Larry, and this is possibly the finest performance of his career. There is such wisdom and sadness in his eyes, and such pain in his rejection of the boy Don (who may possibly be his own son), that he makes the role almost tender despite the language O'Neill gives him. It would be a tribute to a distinguished career if Ryan were nominated posthumously for an Academy Award.

Lee Marviv, as Hickey, has a more virtuoso role: He plays a salesman who has been coming to Harry's saloon for many years to have a "periodical drunk." This time he's on the wagon, he says, because he's found peace. We discover his horrible peace when he confesses to the murder. Marvin has recently been playing in violent action movies that require mostly that he look mean; here he is a tortured madman hidden beneath a true believer.

I also liked old Fredric March as Harry Hope. He's a pathetic pixie who tolerates his customers for the security they give him. To be the proprietor of a place like this is, at least, better than being a customer. But not much better. And so for four hours we live in these two rooms and discover the secrets of these people, and at the end we have gone deeper, seen more, and will remember more, than with most of the other movies of our life."

Harry Nilsson was a man in a hurry. There’s no time, people! Life is happening now, and if you don’t act fast and grab it, you’ll be outta luck. Dead at 52, the former Wunderkind, one of Rock’s most innovative song stylists, exited this earthly realm, having burned out his candle from both ends - in terms of life, work, and alcohol consumption - but, thankfully, he left behind a clutch of living monuments to his originality.

This song started life as a B-side to the magisterial Without You, whose soaring vocal allegedly caused Harry to burst a hemorrhoid. He never did anything half-way. And, almost 40 years later, it re-emerged as the musical fulcrum for Natasha Lyonne’s zany existential Netflix series Russian Doll, causing a reported 3,300 percent jump in Spotify streams. It seems you can’t keep a good song down, and every time Lyonne’s character re-awakens, Harry’s ear worm reanimates, winding her back up - a bobbing apple in the enigmatic tub of time.

So, you got something to do? Do it now; don’t hesitate! Make that phone call; say what you need to say. Tempus Fugit!

Segment One:
A TASTE OF MONEY, A SCENT OF ORANGE

Segment Two: WILLIE NILE

“The unofficial poet laureate of New York City.” - Uncut

"Better than most performers have to offer by far." -- Rolling Stone

“Clash/Social Distortion meets Pete Seeger…a true master songwriter!” – Hits

“Willie’s so good I can’t believe he’s not from New Jersey!” – Little Steven

“Crossing the power of the Clash with the social consciousness of Woody Guthrie…he’s stronger than ever!” – The Morton Report

“Willie Nile is a great artist. If there was any justice in this world, I’d be opening up for him instead of him for me.” Lucinda Williams

“The epitome of real, true American rock ’n’ roll!” – Pop Matters

“He’s a rocker’s rocker, protégé of the famous.” -- USA Today

“A man who embodies the true spirit of rock n’ roll.” - London Times

“RIVETING!...Springsteen, Mellencamp, Van Morrison…Willie Nile has earned his standing in that esteemed company! – Blurt

Segment Three:
"MY GAL SAL"

Paul Dresser’s “My Gal Sal” is a song that beautifully captures the essence of love and devotion. Its universal message and enchanting melody continue to resonate with audiences, making it a timeless classic. Whether it reminds you of a loved one or simply brings a smile to your face, this song stands as a testament to the enduring power of music to touch our souls.

• Also known as "They Call Her Frivolous Sal," this 1905 song by Paul Dresser has the distinction of being the first song ever performed in a motion picture film. This was of course The Jazz Singer which was released October 6, 1927.
  
  Dresser died in 1906 so had no idea his work would be so honored. In the film it is sung briefly (and ostensibly) by the teenage Robert Gordon, although it is dubbed by an unknown singer.
• Since its first publication at New York in 1905, "My Gal Sal" has been republished a number of times including around 1960, and has also been fairly widely recorded. >>
• In 1942, a musical film based on Paul Dresser's life called My Gal Sal was released. Victor Mature played Dresser.

Can a song about unrequited love be considered a “Sunny Song”? Absolutely, if it’s as poppy and refreshing as this cut by Cleveland one hit wonders, The Choir, previously known as The Mods. At the time of the song’s recording, the midwest was teeming with British Invasion, Carnaby St wanna-be bands who had longer hair than their peers and groovier clothes, and managed to cobble together enough money to cut a single. In the case of The Choir, their local hit record got picked up and nationally distributed by Roulette, becoming a hit. And, it lives on in the Nuggets collection.

In Actor training, we are taught that subtext is everything. One doesn’t play the literal meaning of a line, but rather the intention underneath, which is often at odds with the words being spoken. Such is the case with this song, whose subtext - (the music) - is in direct opposition to the lyrics. The words are saying the situation is sad and hopeless; the music assures us that not only is hope possible, but I’m really ok, even at this given moment. Perhaps because the composer imagines that when the object of his desire hears him on the radio, they will surely love him. How could they not?

One of the greatest rock and roll songwriters, Jackie De Shannon has a way of marrying a catchy pop melody with a fresh lyrical insight that is unparalleled. During that shift from Rockabilly into the British Invasion, Jackie (often with partner Sharon Sheeley), kept the pop charts humming - amassing an impressive discography for anyone - let alone little Sharon Lee Myers from Hazel, Kentucky, a pert blonde girl singer with a husky alto, who was being marketed as cheese cake. But Jackie had far too much grit and ambition to have her career begin and end as a Brenda Lee knock-off. She drove through the 60s racking up 2 top ten hits along the way.

When You Walk in the Room is an excellent example of that magical melding of a great hook with an original turn of phrase. Starting as a B-Side in 1963, it was re-released a year later as an A side, and included in her album BREAKIN’ IT UP ON THE BEATLES TOUR! That’s right … She opened for the fucking Beatles.

What with all this, It might seem odd to say, but I believe that Jackie was underrated. Of her two biggest hits as a vocalist, one (What the World Needs Now) was written by Burt Bacharach and Hal David, and the other one (Put a Little Love in Your Heart) was a bit of treacle co-written with her brother and two other folks. Neither of these tunes exhibit the wit, the grit, the sexiness, or the spark of her own tunes.

• Nov. 27, 2017

Wayne Cochran, who wrote a classic love-and-loss pop song while still in his early 20s, then morphed into an energetic rhythm-and-blues singer with a devoted following and an outrageous pompadour before finding a new purpose in a Christian ministry near Miami, died on Nov. 21 in Miramar, Fla. He was 78.

His son, Christopher Cochran, said the cause was cancer.

Mr. Cochran was a relative unknown trying to make it as a singer in Georgia in 1961 when he wrote and recorded “Last Kiss,” a heart-wrencher about a fatal car wreck.

“Well, where, oh where can my baby be?” it starts. “The Lord took her away from me.”

Mr. Cochran’s initial recording did not make much of an impact, but a 1964 cover by J. Frank Wilson and the Cavaliers became a national hit. The song — which Christopher Cochran said was inspired by a real traffic fatality, though not one that his father was involved in — has proved durable. A Canadian group named Wednesday had a modest hit with it in the 1970s, and Pearl Jam did even better with a version recorded in 1998.

Mr. Cochran, though, veered away from teenage pop and into soul and R&B, developing a high-energy stage act with a band he called the C. C. Riders (the initials stood for Cochran Circuit). With his hair in a pompadour of epic dimensions, he put on a propulsive show that earned him the nickname the White Knight of Soul. He drew comparisons to James Brown.

James Brown set the standard for dynamic live performance in American music. Inspired by preachers in the Black church, Brown started out singing in gospel quartets. As the "Godfather of Soul," he transmuted gospel into secular music centered in the emotional conduit of the soul singer. As "the hardest working man in show business," Brown turned ballads into virtuosic theatrical turns—falling hard on his knees, busting into splits and half spins, popping the mike to the floor and back, each move ratcheting up the song’s emotional intensity. As "Soul Brother No. 1," Brown acted as a cultural leader, writing hit songs calling for Black pride. As a progenitor of funk music, Brown with his band created a stripped-down, rhythmically driven aesthetic that has influenced world music from reggae to Afrobeat. Much of popular music since the 1960s comes through James Brown’s moves and grooves. Hip-hop is unimaginable without him.