The internet sometimes is like a hallucinogenic drug. I take one tab with my coffee in the morning, and by mid-day, I’ve followed innumerable links to end up God-Knows-Where. One of my initial rituals of the day is to cue on the YouTube music videos to select my mix of tunes for the morning’s play, as I thumb through the e-mails and Facebook posts. One thing, that will pull me off-task, is to follow up on a favorite song that I haven’t heard in years. What is the artist doing now? How did that song ever come to be written? Correlations and/or their lack, abound. Inspiration can be quizzical. For example, Bob Dylan wrote “When the Ship Comes In,” when in a pique for being refused a hotel room. While, that lovely song, “When You Say Nothing At All,” was remarked as being the product of just another fairly successful day of songwriting by some Nashville tunesmiths and left with the pile to be pitched later. One of my favorite sad songs, “The Dealer/Down and Losing,” as sung by Judy Collins, was penned by a guy out of Canada who had a program there on the TV. His day job was to drill on teeth, and he performed as The Singing Dentist.
My Theory about Del Shannon
My Theory about Del Shannon
My Theory about Del Shannon
The internet sometimes is like a hallucinogenic drug. I take one tab with my coffee in the morning, and by mid-day, I’ve followed innumerable links to end up God-Knows-Where. One of my initial rituals of the day is to cue on the YouTube music videos to select my mix of tunes for the morning’s play, as I thumb through the e-mails and Facebook posts. One thing, that will pull me off-task, is to follow up on a favorite song that I haven’t heard in years. What is the artist doing now? How did that song ever come to be written? Correlations and/or their lack, abound. Inspiration can be quizzical. For example, Bob Dylan wrote “When the Ship Comes In,” when in a pique for being refused a hotel room. While, that lovely song, “When You Say Nothing At All,” was remarked as being the product of just another fairly successful day of songwriting by some Nashville tunesmiths and left with the pile to be pitched later. One of my favorite sad songs, “The Dealer/Down and Losing,” as sung by Judy Collins, was penned by a guy out of Canada who had a program there on the TV. His day job was to drill on teeth, and he performed as The Singing Dentist.