Roy Rogers Slide of Hand (Liberty) By Bob Weinberg When am I gonna learn? Roy Rogers puts out a new album and I get all excited. Maybe it’s because I remember how Roy scorched the earth at the Riverwalk Blues Fest, or parched the pavement on Flagler during Sunfest, slinging…
Kenny Millions is wailing. Rather, his tenor sax is wailing. Legs akimbo, rocking slightly as if on an invisible canoe, the straw-haired, bespectacled saxman blows some furious riffs, weaving in and out of the basslines Dave Wertman pulls from his upright acoustic. Abbey Rader’s hands blur over his drum kit…
When I left the dry comfort of my happy home and ventured into the rain for a special midnight sale of Prince’s The Hits, my intention was simple enough — to find, buy, and review the 56-track retrospective of pop’s premier chameleon. But fate has a funny way of kicking…
One of my most vivid and fondest Washington Square memories is a Genitorturers show, Halloween 1992. I witnessed most of the piercing, poking, and stroking with a mixture of curiosity and revulsion, which peaked during the segment where the bisexual dominatrixes groped each other while urinating on the young male…
There aren’t too many things that have not happened within the hallowed walls of Washington Square. Here’s one: lobster parties. This past Wednesday night South Beach was invaded by zombies. Everybody who rocks was walking around in a daze, stunned as if they’d just run full-speed into a brick wall…
There’s nothing in the fridge but beers so you wipe the sleep away and go to get some breakfast at two o’clock on a stormy Miami afternoon. You order a hamburger minus pickles at the Burger King drive-thru, park over by the Winn-Dixie. You unwrap the burger to discover the…
It’s the last Saturday in August and certifiable legend and trumpet virtuoso Ira Sullivan is on stage, all flying fingers and lubed up lips. Outside of this club, you hear it over and over: There’s no great jazz room in Miami. On 71st Street, across from the fountain in Normandy…
“You would cry, too/If it happened to you” — from “It’s My Party,” by Lesley Gore I felt like apologizing for what I said before I finished the sentence: “What these rock bands are doing here in Miami,” I was saying on the phone, “isn’t it just a drop in…
One must always temper one’s hunger for knowledge with respect for the risk involved. To learn one must risk getting burned. The trouble began three years ago when mail that was strange even for newspaper post-office boxes began piling up: letters plastered with cryptic misspellings, patches of print-media clippings, colorful…
The story behind this sound begins in late sixteenth-century Cuba, way back when the air was thick and wet and the verdant green reached for sky. Spaniards had arrived years before, establishing a colonial system, decimating the Siboney and Taino Indian populations. That left the invaders short on the labor…
One Fucked: A Lovely Collection of Introspection (Benevolent Demon Records) By Greg Baker Maybe not as introspective as, say, Mary Karlzen, but then again, if you look inside and outside and see bleakness and darkness, then that’s what gets regurgitated. And it can never be said that One doesn’t puke…
It’s not easy to actually eat anything when you’re having lunch with Jimi Hendrix, Mel Brooks, Barry White, Cheech and Chong, and Luther Campbell. Not to mention a variety of chain saws, buzz saws, some caterwauling that sounds like a pussy in heat, and, of course, a dancehall reggae band…
Rope swinging stageside. Wearing body-electric suits made from Christmas lights. Jell-O wrestling with members of Jack Off Jill. Ritualizing breakfast at Denny’s. Playing shred-it-or-forget-it rock — just some of the characteristics that collectively make them the Itch. Their philosophy is simple. They were a band, they are a band, and…
Horace Silver It’s Got to be Funky (Columbia) By Bob Weinberg Whether pounding the keys alongside Art Blakey or leading his own dynamic trios and quartets, jazz pianist Horace Silver managed to accomplish the impossible: he made records that grooved and jammed with hard-charging R&B and still satisfied jazz purists…
You say you want to sign your favorite local band to a lucrative recording contract? Share its music with the rest of the world? Why not do what Bruce Iglauer did 22 years ago and start your own label? It was back in 1971 that Iglauer, a young blues enthusiast…
The industry calls it “the sideman clause.” The next time you’re browsing through CDs at your favorite record store, check the not-so-fine print. Along with the work of the artist you’re seeking, you might find a bonus musician or two. Or an unwelcome guest. The “sideman” phenomenon has been around…
The right hand moves with dazzling speed, jackhammering the keys like a five-pronged backhoe stuck in overdrive. But it’s the left hand, slowly and steadily rolling out rhythms, that holds the key to the loping stride of barrelhouse piano. It’s easy to become mesmerized watching Piano Bob Wilder’s fingers trip…
The showcase that rocketed Piano Bob and the Snowman and the Roach Thompson Blues Band into the Handy Awards history book and the national spotlight is in peril. After two consecutive victories by local acts in the national battle-of-the bands, apathy, mistrust, and irreconcilable differences of opinion are dogging the…
Birthday parties are supposed to be festive occasions (at least when it’s someone else’s birthday). So it should come as no surprise that Stephen Talkhouse’s first was a real blowout. A baker’s dozen of the area’s top original acts showed up bearing the same gift — free live music –…
The rock world needs new heroes. Elvis is dead (really, he really really is). Bruce is old and paternal (and dads, heroes though they may be, are not rock heroes). Kurt and Axl and Perry just don’t cut it as role models, icons, or even plain old-fashioned rock stars. Where…
Melvin Taylor Plays the Blues for You Eddie Shaw Movin’ and Groovin’ Man (Evidence) By Bob Weinberg The latest crop of blues re-releases from our cousins in Conshohocken, Pennsylvania, celebrates the blues as it was remade in the clubs of Chicago. Two noteworthy CDs from the collection come from successive…
“Ten working days.” That’s been Doc Wiley’s mantra for the past three months. Wiley made the mistake of giving me an advance listen to the Live at the Square Vol. II tape in April. Since then I’ve been on his case constantly. “Any word on that CD, Doc?” “Ten working…
