2017: A Year In Review

By on Jan 3, 2018 in Blog, Uncategorized | 0 comments

The other night, I was stationed in the Frozen Basement of Gloom, pondering 2017 as I stared into a framed picture of the infamous director, Sam Peckinpah, that sits atop my late 90’s Panasonic television, something I haven’t turned on in over two years. I got to thinking behind my desk about all the musical talent I’ve seen this past year — at the radio stations, in the taverns, at New England College. I mean, it was a preposterous amount of goodness, both in original and cover format, bestowed upon those that chose to indulge, which, I did with an unflinching zeal. Counting into the mirrored sunglasses of Peckinpah, who directed such classics as “Straw Dogs” and “The Getaway” with Steve McQueen, I tried to think off the top of my head how many musicians performed in Granite State of Mind over the past year. Maybe 40? Or less? More? I...

Climbing Colter’s Wall

By on Dec 11, 2017 in Blog, Uncategorized |

I’ll attempt to sift through the mud which is my brain on this sunny and cold Monday morning. After a long weekend spent rollicking through the honky-tonks in one of the greatest cities on Mother earth– Nashville, Tennessee — I could use some downtime to reflect. But, man. That place does it right! A spangled cluster of creativity, Nashville is capable of soaking every inch of your best Western floral print shirt with the swinging sounds of traditional Bakersfield music played live, played fast, played hard. I could cruise the main thoroughfare called Broadway for days, I swear, eating fried bologna sandwiches and drinking the worst kinds of beer the south has to offer (original Coors, vile stuff), as I shimmy my hips from bar to bar in search of any rendition of a George Jones song. The trip down south was motivated by a fierce devotion to my good buddy,...

Last Dance with Mr. Petty

By on Oct 31, 2017 in Blog |

I’m still coming down from the savory fumes set off at the Tom Petty Tribute show at NEC last Saturday night. It really was a remarkable show of devotion and love on the many, many faces in the sprawling crowd. And there were lots of different faces, for sure. Old ones, semi-old ones, feeling old ones. Even faces that faked trying not to be old ones. They were all gorgeous, all heartbroken, but still very much Heartbreakers. Young faces too, lots of them, teens and 20-somethings, huddled right up next to the battle worn Petty fans who’ve been singing “Here Comes My Girl” for 30 years. Scattered on the floor, sitting at an office desk, fannies to the wall, fifty-odd chairs occupied with plenty of revelry taking place backstage where the musicians loosened their throats, their yelps, their deepest timbers, as Walker Smith and “The Don” worked out...

Went Down Swingin’

By on Oct 9, 2017 in Blog, Uncategorized |

Sorrow has won the day. And you can’t tell me it hasn’t. I’m filled with dread on this first Monday of October, simmering in a low-based depression for both the dead and the survivors of yet another terrorizing mass shooting, this time in Las Vegas at a country music festival. I can’t get out from under the misery. It’s getting harder, it seems, each week, to replenish my sympathies, though. Every ten days or so, I’m out in the front yard raising the American flag back up from half mast after a period of mourning. Then, a couple weeks later, there I am again, barefooted, dropping the stars and stripes to middle pole. Can’t keep track of the losses. The moment you start to focus on the lost souls in Texas drowned out by Harvey, some other motherless storm named Maria or Irma steals our compassions and breaks the backs of Puerto Ricans, Floridians and anybody else that got in the...

By on Sep 28, 2017 in Blog, Uncategorized |

Ten years ago, my world changed. First, though, my heart broke because radio god, Howard Stern, was leaving the regular air waves for something called Sirius satellite radio. Mornings without Howard seemed unimaginable, a step backwards in life, hollow. Love him or hate him. He’s the Ali, Jordan and Gene Simmons of talk radio. The best in his game. Satellite radio sounded sketchy to me, though. I didn’t know much about home computers, let alone something you needed to rig up in your vehicle in order to get your daily dose of hilarity by the King and his crew. Unwilling to let go of Stern, I bought a satellite radio, paid the plan, and a tech at Best Buy wired my 97′ Honda Accord. Without missing a beat, Howard came out of the gate hot, and a decade later hasn’t let up on the gas, albeit working a much leaner schedule. Must be nice. After four hours of being...

Bonded Through the Music

By on Sep 18, 2017 in Blog |

Growing up, my brother, Mike, was mad about his music. He’d lock himself downstairs in the basement of our home for hours cranking Jackson Browne, Leo Sayer and a whole lot of James Taylor. We didn’t communicate much in those days, him a senior in high school, me, eight years younger, just a knot of nerves with nothing to say. But telepathy entered in through the music, and I grew as he grew because the music he played downstairs, because well, he didn’t hold back on the volume. Seemingly always there, before school and after, cutting through the gloom and good times in our home, the music Mike played reached me in ways that still influences me today. The simple beats, the heavy thinking wordplay, the triumphant hero leveled by a life less given. These songs filled me with a kind of beautiful sorrow that I wanted to drink in, feeding me in ways that didn’t require a textbook or...