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"Who Can We Turn To- Tony Bennett's Long Ride Home". Even though we all knew The Mystery Train had been patiently awaiting the arrival of this great man , the depth of sorrow felt for such a loss combined with the immense gratitude for such a life is not discovered until the moment of truth. Tony Bennett was the truth, as he was incapable of exuding even a single false note. Anthony Dominick Benedetto has departed for The Grand Hotel at 96 years of song, art and humanity. After Sinatra left us, the weight of a lost art form fell upon Tony’s shoulders and he carried it with all of the dignity and love in his soul. His career took an unexpected upswing in the late Eighties, when his son Danny Bennett took over as his manager. And then Tony experienced a full blown grunge-era comeback in 1994, when he released an MTV Unplugged special, featuring  guest appearances by k.d. Lang and Elvis Costello. Bennett was 68 years old at this point. Bennett’s Unplugged album won Album of the Year at the 1995 Grammys, beating recent works by Eric Clapton, Bonnie Raitt, Seal, and the Four Tenors. In recent years, even when Mr. Bennett could no longer recognize his own existence due to  Alzheimer's disease he could still recall where He Left His Heart and continued to  perform  with the best.  It breaks my heart knowing I will never encounter him in the flesh ever again. My Mom's 90th birthday wish was to see Tony once again. And on a cool March evening in Florida in 2017 we did just that. At the end of an hour and fifteen minute set, Tony placed his microphone upon his stool and sang an a cappella rendition of "Fly Me To The Moon" to the 2500 in attendance. It was our final encounter with the heaven he delivered to Earth. My Mom June also ed at 96, one year ago yesterday. Tony Bennett was a part of my family from the moment I had heard "Boulevard Of Broken Dreams" at the age of 10. Sleep well Tony. “Who Can We Turn To Once Now that You've Gone Away?” We will always cherish you.

There have been a few performers in my life that have hosted a secret clubhouse gathering, which provided me a respite from the grueling business of living - people whose comforting, yet compelling personalities, who, by sharing secrets, made me laugh heartily, or pulled me into a safe harbor of balanced perspective: Late nights under the covers with Jean Shepard, lonely, frustrating mornings of boredom with Howard Stern and his crew; and the first time I heard Elvin Bishop do this monologue.  IN MY OWN DREAM was Paul Butterfield’s follow up album to THE RESURRECTION OF PIGBOY CRABSHAW - where the legendary harpist stepped up to a more orchestrated sound. Previously, Elvin Bishop had been the band’s second guitarist, wingman to the incomparable Mike Bloomfield, who caught most of the starry critical heat after the band’s initial rocket launch.  Here Elvin takes the spotlight and charms with such relaxed, magical monological improv that it catapulted him into a huge solo career and a string of hits in the 70’s that was capped with the number five single FOOLED AROUND AND FELL IN LOVE. The foremost purveyor of southern good time boogie, at 80 years old Elvin continues to dole out big fun and happiness. In DRUNK AGAIN we are in John’s Tavern with Elvin, who greets everyone jovially, chugs a few Gordon gins, flirts with a sassy bassline, gets tight (“drunk as grandma’s old yeller hog”), and proceeds to blow the roof off the place with his guitar pyrotechnics - a one of a kind performance - breathtaking!

https://www.nytimes.com/2016/09/12/arts/music/prince-buster-trailblazer-of-ska-dies-at-78.html Cecil Bustamente Campbell was born in Kingston, Jamaica, on May 24, 1938. He performed with teenage groups in Kingston; he also became a boxer, taking the name Prince Buster. In the 1950s he began working for one of Jamaica’s top producers and sound-system disc jockeys, Coxsone Dodd. By the end of the decade he had opened a record store, Buster’s Record Shack, and was playing street parties with his own sound system, the Voice of the People. He decided to start producing songs as well as spinning them. Jamaicans were listening to, and imitating, the American R&B that reached the island on radio stations from New Orleans and Miami. Prince Buster’s productions were more deliberately Jamaican. His production of the Folkes Brothers’ “Oh Carolina,” recorded in 1959, meshed the traditional Nyabinghi drumming of a Rastafarian musician, Count Ossie, with what would come to be known as a ska beat. That beat, in songs like Eric Morris’s “Humpty Dumpty,” made for huge hits in Jamaica and also had an impact in 1960s Britain. Prince Buster’s instrumental “Al Capone” was a Top 20 hit there in 1965. By the end of the 1960s ska had given way to the slower rocksteady beat, a closer precursor of reggae. Prince Buster adapted, notably with his series of singles using his Judge Dread character. But in the early 1970s he gave up producing music and concentrated on business ventures, including record stores and a jukebox company, and moved to Miami.

https://www.islingtontribune.co.uk/article/life-and-violent-death-of-a-genius-called-joe Music producer Joe Meek was never going to die a natural death. That is the verdict of Clem Cattini, drummer of The Tornados, for whom Meek produced the groundbreaking record Telstar in 1962 – the first British record to top the US singles chart – in his poky studio at 304 Holloway Road. Fans of Meek, named by weekly music magazine NME as the greatest producer of all time, are celebrating his legacy on the 50th anniversary of his death. But recognition of his creative genius has been overshadowed by the manner in which he died on February 3, 1967, at the age of 37 – he committed suicide in his studio after shooting his landlady, Violet Shenton, dead. An inquest jury found Meek deliberately killed Mrs Shelton, who ran a leather shop with her husband downstairs. But half a century on, those with intimate knowledge of Meek’s life say her death was no more than a terrible accident involving a man driven to despair by financial troubles, fears over blackmailers who threatened to expose his homosexuality, a dispute with the feared Kray twins, and police interest following the gruesome murder of a teenage rent boy. Meek shook the music world by producing three No 1 hit records from his little studio, where musicians would play in the bathroom, on the staircase and in the living room with Meek twisting, cutting, slowing down, speeding up and subverting the tracks as they played. Clem, now 79, who worked with Meek at the Holloway Road studio, recalled: “The studio was bizarre. I mean the drums were in the fireplace. “But it was incredible, the sounds he could get out of that studio, the equipment he used and what he recorded Telstar with. Modern equipment could not get anywhere near it. “Musically, Joe was a moron, and I don’t mean that in a mean way, but he didn’t have a clue. But in of sound production he was incredible, the forerunner of the independent producer. He was just a genius with sound.”

Ooh, Baby, Ooooh wee! Ooh, baby, oooooh wee! It’s that Million Dollar Bash. I hear that chorus and I’m smiling. It’s a celebration, a party. Dylan and the boys are off the hard road, and they’re just having fun in the Big Pink basement with the Revox tape recorder.  There has been some interpretative gobble dee gook about it being Dylan’s satirical payback to Andy Warhol and his pretentious Factory parties, with a salvo to Edie Sedgwick - the (“big dumb blonde) -, who dumped him, but really, that feels like a stretch. Those intimations might be there, but when Bob sings: “Well, I’m hittin’ it too hard, my stones won’t take- I get up in the morning but it’s too early to wake, First it’s hello, goodbye, then push and then crash, But we’re all gonna make it at that mIllion dollar bash! It feels to me like an expression of sweet release. An appreciation for the moment at hand. And, imagining where the heads of the bar band turned folk-rock players assembled in that bucolic place were at…. -, the men who, for me, comprised the greatest American band in rock history - in the chrysalis from which they were about to emerge to ignite a musical revolution - I can feel the spontaneous energy of joyous creation.  Oooh baby, Oooh weeeee!

Mickey Newbury was born Milton Sims Newbury Jr. in Houston Texas, May 19, 1940 to Maime and Milton Newbury. As a child, he was inseparable from younger brother, Jerry; a friendship that continued throughout his life. In high school, Mickey decided to write songs. As a teenager, he shut himself up in his room, writing poetry and learning to play guitar. He organized a doo-wop group called The Embers. In 1959, Mickey ed the Air Force and was assigned to England for three years. When he returned to the United States, he pursued his dream of being a songwriter. He lived in a ’54 Pontiac and traveled around Texas, Tennessee, and Louisiana playing gigs and working on shrimp boats. Eventually he found himself in Nashville, and in 1964, signed a publishing contract with Acuff-Rose. He moved to Nashville in 1965 and about this time, his first child Joe was born. Shortly thereafter, Jimmy Elledge was first to cover a Newbury song, Just as Long as that Someone is You. 1966 was the year the music industry noticed Mickey Newbury. Don Gibson had a Top Ten Country hit with Newbury’s Funny Familiar Forgotten Feelings, while Tom Jones scored a world hit with the same song. In 1968, Mickey saw huge success; three number one songs and one number five – across four different charts; Just Dropped In (To See What Condition My Condition Was In) on the Pop/Rock chart by the First Edition, SweetMemories on Easy Listening by Andy Williams, Time is a Thief on the R&B chart by Solomon Burke, and Here Comes the Rain Baby on the Country chart by Eddy Arnold. This feat has not been repeated. That year, Mickey’s first album, Harlequin Melodies, was released by RCA. Mickey met New Christy Minstrel member Susan Pack on a blind date in 1967 and would not see her again until 1969. Soon thereafter, they were married and living on a houseboat on Old Hickory Lake outside of Nashville. Over the next four years, Mickey released three albums that raised the bar on Music Row. Produced at Cinderella Studios outside of Nashville, and utilizing Nashville’s best musicians, Newbury’s trilogy of albums - Looks Like Rain, Frisco Mabel Joy and Heaven Help The Child are often referred to as masterpieces. Following the birth of their first child, Chris, in 1973, the Newburys moved to Oregon, to Susan’s home town, just down the street from her parents, to raise their family. A daughter, Leah, followed in 1977. In 1980, Mickey was inducted into the Nashville Songwriter’s Hall of Fame. During the 80s, Mickey took a break from the music business to concentrate on his growing family and golf. Stephen ed the family in 1983 and Laura was born in 1986. In the early 90’s, he started writing, recording, and performing again, encouraged by his friends Bob Rosemurgy, Marty Hall, and Owsley Mannier. In 1995, Mickey’s health began to fail, but he continued to produce beautiful music. 1995 to 2002 were some of his most productive years, during which time he almost doubled his catalogue. He also directed his attention to other ventures, beginning work on children’s books based on his story-songs. On September 29, 2002 he succumbed to a long time lung disease and ed away in his sleep at home in Springfield, Oregon. Mickey Newbury’s songs have been covered by hundreds upon hundreds of artists; over 1,000 covers have been documented. Mickey also recorded 25 albums over 35 years. Though he considered himself a songwriter first and singer second, his own albums are critically acclaimed and highly desired by a very ionate fan base the world over. Many consider him to be the best of the best. Kris Kristofferson says, “God, I learned more about songwriting from

https://www.history.com/this-day-in-history/del-shannon-dies-of-a-self-inflicted-gunshot-wound Born Charles Westover in Grand Rapids, Michigan, in 1934, the singer-songwriter known as Del Shannon dies by suicide on February 8, 1990. In a period when the American pop charts were dominated by cookie-cutter teen idols and novelty acts, he stood out as an all-too-rare example of an American pop star whose work reflected real originality. His heyday as a chart-friendly star in the United States may have been brief, but on the strength of his biggest hit alone he deserves to be regarded as one of rock and roll’s greatest. Legend has it that while on stage one night at the Hi-Lo Lounge in Battle Creek, Michigan, in 1960, the young and unknown Del Shannon stopped his band mid-song to have his organ player repeat, over and over, an unusual chord sequence he had just ad-libbed: A-minor to G. Charlie went to work the next day in his job as a carpet salesman with those chords stuck in his mind, and by the time he took the stage that night, he’d written a song called “Little Runaway” around them—(A-minor) As I walk along I (G) wonder, what went wrong…”. It would be three more months before Shannon and his band could make it to a New York recording studio to record the song that Shannon now saw as his best, and possibly last, shot at stardom. As he told Billboard magazine years later, “I just said to myself, if this record isn’t a hit, I’m going back into the carpet business.” Del Shannon sold his last carpet a few months later, as “Runaway” roared up the pop charts on its way to #1 in April 1961. “Hats Off To Larry” and “Keep Searchin’ (We’ll Follow The Sun)” were Shannon’s only other top-10 hits in the United States, but he enjoyed a much bigger career in the UK, where he placed five more songs in the top 10 over the next two years. Like most stars of his generation, Shannon was primarily regarded as an Oldies act through the '70s and '80s, but he was in the midst of a concerted comeback effort in early 1990, with a Jeff Lynne-produced album of original material already completed and rumors swirling of his taking the late Roy Orbison’s place in The Traveling Wilburys.  This only added to the shock experienced by many when Shannon shot himself in his Santa Clarita, California, home on February 8, 1990. Shannon’s widow would later file a high-profile lawsuit against Eli Lilly, the manufacturer of the antidepressant Prozac, which Shannon had begun taking shortly before his suicide. That suit was eventually dropped, but the case brought early attention to the still-unresolved question of the possible connection between suicidal ideation and SSRIs, the class of drugs to which Prozac belongs.

This is a fun one… (but, they’ve all been fun for me).  It’s  being performed by the immortal Stubby Kaye, or “Unkie” as he’s known around our house because he’s the great uncle of my daughter-in-law. Her brother is the spitting image of the musical comedy great, which demonstrates the endurance of Stubby’s DNA. The other performer on the recording is Mr. Jonny Silver.  This jaunty track, composed by one of Broadway’s brightest bards, Frank Loesser, is served up with gravity-defying lyrics that are sensuously juicy, surprising, and ever-joyfilled: (“Call is hell, call it heaven, it’s a probable 12 to 7, that the guy’s only doin’ it for some doll!”) Of course, the raw material from Damon Runyon ain’t bad, either - a good time was guaranteed to Broadway theatergoers during the season of 1950.  Stubby had a bright, clarion voice  - like a cornet - a necessary quality for yesterday’s unamplified thespians wanting to hit the back row - and the man performs lustily with his megaphone of mirth. He was a staple of the Great White Way, and this one of a kind performance was captured on film as well.  Funny story: I auditioned for a dinner theatre production of Guys and Dolls once - I was responding to an open call in Backstage. I didn’t know the title song, but I thought it’d be a fine idea to listen to the recording at the Lincoln Center Library to bone up before attempting it at the appointment. Who was I kidding? These lyrics required a lot more preparation than a couple of silent run-throughs, and when I got in the room and begun: “What’s playin’ at the Roxy…?” My mind went blank, and I just kept repeating that question, like a mantra, as the flop sweat poured over my eyebrows into my mouth. I was out of my league. 

This example of a “sunny song” is a little different from the previous ones because what makes me happy when I hear it is not the message itself. Or, rather, the medium is the message. The message is under the surface, or perhaps on the surface, or threaded throughout it. It’s a message about team work - a premier example of interracial / inter-gendered cooperative, coming together to create a mosaic masterwork of such intricacy that you can’t tell with whom it begins or ends.  Jon Hendricks, the master of vocalese, the “James Joyce of Jive”, wrote the lyrics to this1945 Woody Herman instrumental rhumba, and L,H,&R revivify it with breathy delicacy. There is a fractured story about a guy searching Istanbul for a dancing girl, “Bijou” (his jewel)  that has captured his imagination. But, it’s really just the repetition of that name, Bijou, bouncing back and forth from voice to voice, that crochets the musical magic into an unforgettable fabric.  I first became aware of Lambert, Hendricks, and Ross, and the vocalese technique, through the unpredictable medium of Joni Mitchell, who covered Annie Ross’s “Twisted” on one of her albums. And that rendition led me to this cut, whose brilliant shards of musical and lyrical data immediately shot into my brain, implanting an ear worm that still brings a smile as it plays in my head 50 years later.  And, when I was creating my list of sunny songs, it was right there, just like the memory of a perfect, perfumed summer evening. 

https://www.pastemagazine.com/movies/the-byrd-who-flew-alone-the-triumphs-and-tragedy-o Mention Gene Clark as one of your favorite musicians and almost invariably the response will be a raised eyebrow followed by the words “Gene who?” Namechecking alone won’t cut it. Mentioning that he was a founding member of the Byrds might trigger a vague memory, but many still won’t be able to actually place him, or any of his songs. And yet David Crosby’s post-Byrds mega-fame with CSN, and Roger McGuinn’s iconic 12-string Rickenbacker & granny glasses (vis-a-vis Dylan’s “Mr. Tambourine Man” in particular) have pretty much guaranteed their ittedly rightful places in our collective cultural memory. Meanwhile, Gene Clark, a uniquely gifted songwriter who played a pivotal role in the rise of folk rock, psychedelia and country rock, but who could never seem to catch a break, has seemingly disappeared into the past. How did this happen? Well, that’s a long, sad story in itself. For Gene Clark’s small but fiercely loyal cult of fans, carrying his torch through the decades has largely amounted to a silent crusade. But thanks to a long overdue critical reevaluation, reinforcements are on the way. Robert Plant and Alison Krauss’ 2007 collection Raising Sand won a Grammy for Album of the Year, with two Clark compositions—“Through the Morning, Through the Night” and “Polly,” a devastating, heart-rending pair of songs—anchoring the proceedings. Earlier this year, a tour was launched by an ad hoc group of indie stars from bands Beach House, Grizzly Bear, the Walkmen and Fleet Foxes—plus British folk legend and early Clark advocate Iain Matthews—performing the lost masterpiece No Other in its entirety to sold-out crowds on America’s East Coast. But the best entry point for new fans to discover a treasure trove of some of the best music nobody’s ever heard is a new documentary, The Byrd Who Flew Alone: The Triumphs and Tragedy of Gene Clark.

Songs are sometimes much more than a mere confection of words and music. Take the enduringly popular Irish ballad “Raglan Road”, whose ingredients are a dark-haired beauty, a lovelorn poet, a sublime ancient melody and one of Ireland’s finest folk singers. In 1944 Patrick Kavanagh, who was to become one of Ireland’s most popular poets, fell hopelessly in love at the age of 40 with a beautiful medical student named Hilda Moriarty, then only 22. They both had lodgings on Raglan Road, Dublin, and a relatively short relationship ensued that ended because of the age difference and her parents’ disapproval of a middle-aged man who was barely scraping a living from poetry and journalism. Moriarty later married an aspiring politician, Donogh O’Malley, a dashing figure who as education minister in 1966 introduced the crucial reform of free secondary education and rural school buses in the Irish Republic. Heartbroken at losing her, Kavanagh composed one of the great poems of unrequited love, “On Raglan Road”, which was first published in The Irish Press newspaper in 1946. The opening lines reveal his fear that the affair was doomed from day one: “On Raglan Road on an autumn day I met her first and knew/ That her dark hair would weave a snare that I might one day rue . . . ” Kavanagh always regarded his poem as a song lyric, however, and matched it to the traditional Irish air “Fáinne Geal an Lae”, which was first published in 1847 and translated into English as “The Dawning of the Day”, a phrase he uses in the poem. Another 20 years ed before his hope of it becoming a successful song was fulfilled. One night in 1966 Kavanagh buttonholed Luke Kelly, singer with The Dubliners folk group, in the city’s The Bailey bar. Both men were renowned drinkers, and as Kelly supped on Guinness and a shot of whiskey in the smoky bar after a singing session, Kavanagh announced: “I’ve got a song for you! You should sing ‘Raglan Road’.” Unlike the match with Moriarty, this one was made in heaven. Kelly, a striking figure with a shock of curly red hair and a commanding tenor voice, loved the song and his compelling renditions of it are regarded by many as unsured. Thanks to his and The Dubliners’performances “Raglan Road” became popular in Ireland, even though the group did not record it until their 1972 live album, Hometown!. Kavanagh, sadly, never saw his song become a hit — he died a year after presenting it to Kelly. The song gained a second surge of life in 1988, this time bringing international recognition, when Van Morrisonrecorded it with The Chieftains for the album Irish Heartbeat. While The Dubliners’ delivery is stately, with Kelly’s voice dominant over simple banjo, guitar, tin whistle and violin, Morrison’s dramatic arrangement interprets the poem’s emotions with another vocal tour de force. As The Chieftains’ accompaniment grows to a swirling with Paddy Moloney’s uilleann pipes to the fore, Morrison’s voice soars, repeats words and even reduces to a whisper for the lines: “On a quiet street where old ghosts meet,/ I see her walking now, Away from me,/ So hurriedly. My reason must allow . . . ” Since then many folk artists have recorded it, as well as rock stars Sinéad O’Connor, Roger Daltreyand Mark Knopfler, but none quite matches the ionate pomp that Kelly and Morrison bring and which the song demands. The likes of Ed Sheeran, Billy Braggand Billy Joel have also sung it in concert. And in 2008 Kelly’s rendition was heard again in the film &

The first of the six covers that appear on Please Please Me is a mid-tempo ballad called “Anna (Go to Him),” which was written and first recorded by Arthur Alexander. Chances are that most people who hear the version sung by John Lennon have no idea who Arthur Alexander is—but the Beatles certainly knew, and so did the Rolling Stones and Bob Dylan: Alexander is reportedly the only songwriter whose tunes have appeared on studio albums by those three hallowed acts. Elvis Presley recorded one of his songs as well—albeit one that Alexander co-wrote—and so did Otis Redding and Tina Turner and Jerry Lee Lewis and Percy Sledge. Don Covay  recorded for several labels, including Blaze, Sue, Big Top, Fire, Arnold, Fleetwood, Columbia, Epic and Scepter, releasing 'Popeye Waddle' b/w 'One Little Boy Had Money' in 1962 for Cameo Parkway, which became a hit.Don was, by now, recording solo material, and material under the name of Don Covay and the Goodtimers.He penned the U.S. number 1 single 'Pony Time' for Chubby Checker, wrote a hit song called 'I'm Hanging Up My Heart for You', for the Soul singer Solomon Burke, and wrote for Gladys Knight & The Pips, penning 'Letter Full of Tears', which made the top 20.Don formed partnerships with several associates including Horace Ott and Ronnie Miller.In 1964, when he signed to the Rosemart label.His debut single there with the Goodtimers, 'Mercy Mercy' featured Jimi Hendrix on guitar.The following year, Jimi Hendrix played again on the follow up single 'Take This Hurt Off Me' b/w 'Please Don't Let Me Know'. Clarence Carter didn’t have it easy while growing up in Alabama; and being Black and blind was an extra burden, but he has overcome many other obstacles in so many ways. “I feel incredibly good about what I’ve been able to accomplish, but it was not easy. Our world presents challenges and barriers to success for people with disabilities, but I always wanted more in life and believe that the ADA helped me get to where I am today.” I would like to say that Carter now has three “B’s” behind his name, Black, Blind and Blessed. Carter is known for serious Blues music, which includes a string of R&B hits. The songs “Back Door Santa,” “Slip Away,” “Patches,” “Too Weak to Fight” and the dance hall hit “Strokin” are part of his Blues legacy.

What is a “buttermilk sky?,” I asked myself. It’s such an evocative image, and for years I would simply envision a magnificent sunset of red and gold, suffused through a canopy of fluffy clouds. I googled it, and I was right! Up came rows of beautiful celestial pics, and although those photos are fantastic, the image in my mind’s eye had them all beat - attached as it was to an indefinable, stirring emotion within me, mystical in its effect.    That lyric was summoned from the ether by Jack Brooks, with Hoagy Carmichael writing the music. Hoagy introduced the tune in the film “Canyon age” with Dana Andrews, but, its appeal transcended the Cowboy genre. It was so popular that in December of 1946 there were four versions of the song in the top 20, led by Kay Kyser’s band at #1.  You may be aware that Hoagy was also the composer of “Stardust”, considered by most to be the best pop standard of the Great American Songbook ever written. And, he wrote the anthemic “Georgia on my Mind”. Film clips of him reveal one of the most relaxed and natural performers who ever appeared on celluloid - usually seated at a piano.  In my Acting class we screened “The Best Years of Our Lives” and Hoagy’s encounter with the amputee Harold Russell, as he gives avuncular advice to the traumatized vet while tinkling the ivories is one of my favorite moments in a classic film stuffed with unforgettable scenes.  I’m not sure, but my sense is that the image of the buttermilk sky reminds us of the evanescence of life, and the sweet sadness of a longed-for love.

Fervent fans of The Doughboys know their whole history, detailed on the Rock N’ Raw DVD – they first got together in ‘64 and played in various permutations through the rest of the 60’s. They gigged incessantly, won a battle-of-the-bands on Zacherle’s Disc-o-Teen TV show, were the house band at the legendary Café Wha? in New York City in the summer of ’68. They opened for every act imaginable including The Beach Boys, and released two 45’s, Rhoda Mendelbaum and Everybody Knows My Name, on Bell Records (which later became Arista Records) before splitting up for what they thought was for good. The band went their separate and interesting ways – Myke Scavone fronted hard rock ensemble Ram Jam who scored an international hit with Black Betty; Richie Heyman played drums for the likes of Link Wray, Brian Wilson and Jonathan Richman while simultaneously pursuing an acclaimed career as a singer/songwriter (under his full moniker Richard X. Heyman); Mike Caruso landed session work with such notable pop producers as Bo Gentry and Kenny Laguna, and even jammed with Jimi Hendrix! Mike Caruso Since the band re-formed in 2000 at a surprise birthday party for drummer Richie Heyman’s birthday, The Doughboys have released six albums (Is It Now?, Act Your Rage, Shakin’ Our Souls, Hot Beat Stew, Front Street Rebels and Running For Covers), numerous singles, and a documentary film with accompanying live disc (Rock N’ Raw). They’ve played up and down the eastern half of the country, often sharing bills with such luminaries as The Pretenders, The Yardbirds, The Electric Prunes, Roberta Flack, Robin Trower and many others. They performed at the historic “Who Shot Rock n’ Roll?” exhibition at the Allentown Museum, at an all-star tribute to George Harrison at the New York Society for Ethical Culture, at the “Long May You Run” benefit at The Hamilton Live in Washington, DC, and have appeared at prestigious venues like B.B. King’s, the Sellersville Theater, the Stone Pony and the Starland Ballroom. Lead singer Myke Scavone is now also a member of The Yardbirds, touring the world as they continue to spread the gospel of the golden era of Rock n’ Roll. In 2005, Gar Francis (of Stones tribute band Sticky Fingers fame, as well as work with Billy Idol and Mark Lindsay of Paul Revere and The Raiders) entered the picture after the untimely ing of founding member and brilliant guitarist Willy Kirchofer. When Gar ed the band, The Doughboys branched out into recording their own original material, and it wasn’t long before they entered the recording studio and laid down tracks for Is It Now?, the first album of their long and storied career. The Doughboys’ songs have become huge favorites on radio around the world, especially with Little Steven Van Zandt, who named Shakin’ Our Souls his favorite album of 2012, and who has bestowed the much sought after rank of “Coolest Song In The World” on eight of The Doughboys’ songs on his Underground Garage channel on Sirius/XM radio. Additionally, Doughboys music is used extensively in film, television and advertising, including in such TV shows as “The Big Bang Theory”, “Californication,” “Breaking Amish” and “The Good Guys” and in the film “Coming Through The Rye.”

AC-CENT-TCHU-ATE THE POSITIVE Another problematic remnant of our conflicted cultural history: one of America’s all-time greatest popular lyricists, from Savannah GA, scion of the Confederacy, raised on minstrelsy, who has bequeathed unto us some of the most sublime songs of the 20th century. What do we do with such an ambivalent inheritance?  At least Johnny Mercer credited the inspiration for his message to Father Divine, the charismatic black preacher, after the songsmith heard one of his sermons. And, it’s worth adding that, in 2015, The Library of Congress inducted this song into the National Recording Registry for its cultural significance. I include it here because, as a motto for Sunny Songs, you can’t beat “Ac-cent-tchu-ate the Positive”. I’m tryin’ to do that, Johnny. These are words I aspire to live by. Happiness is a choice, I believe. Maybe I can’t do anything about the bad shit that’s happened, but how I roll with it is up to me. So, if you’re feeling put upon, buffeted by the cold winds of fate, my prescription is to listen to the words of Father Divine, by way of Johnny Mercer, one of the most buoyant voices imaginable. 

TIGHTEN UP by Archie Bell and the Drells (Atlantic, 1968) Tighten up isn’t really a song at all (even though it’s listed as #265 on Rolling Stone’s list of the Top 500 Songs of All Time). It’s a riff, a groove, a vibe - and it’s FUCKIN’ AWESOME. It also made it to number one on both the R&B and Pop Charts of 1968. Some people say it was the beginning of funk - maybe so, I don’t know, but, whatever it was, it activated my pleasure center intensely. When Archie says: “Make it mellow,” time stops, and the band goes into slow motion. It’s my favorite part of the record. But, of course, you can’t have the mellow riff without the contrast of the funky, (like a Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup) and this is a secret weapon that captures my heart every time.  There is some chanting, but no melody, no tune, just Archie’s spoken word introduction, telling you who the band is and where they hail from: Houston, Texas. Legend has it that after the Kennedy assassination, Archie Bell overheard someone say that “nothing ever good comes from Texas,” and this was his inspiration: to tell everybody that The Drells came from Texas, and “we were good.” I’ve got to give you that, Archie. Tighten Up preceded the advent of the Walkman, but to this 15 year old — I didn’t need any electronic device to access that riff while I was bopping down the boulevard. It played in my head on a loop, and guided my street shuffle right in tempo.

"Is That All There Is?", a song written by American songwriting team Jerry Leiber and Mike Stoller during the 1960s, became a hit for American singer Peggy Lee and an award winner from her album of the same title in November 1969. The song was originally performed by Georgia Brown in May 1967 for a television special. It was first recorded by disc jockey Dan Daniel in March 1968, but this was an unauthorized recording that, while played on Daniel's own radio show, went unissued at the songwriters' request. The first authorized recording was by Leslie Uggams in August 1968. Then came the hit Peggy Lee version in August 1969, followed by Guy Lombardo in 1969 and Tony Bennett on 22 December 1969.[2] Peggy Lee's version reached number 11 on the U.S. pop singles chart — becoming her first Top 40 pop hit since "Fever" eleven years earlier—and doing even better on the adult contemporary scene, topping that Billboardchart. It also reached number six in Canada. It won Lee the Grammy Award for Best Female Pop Vocal Performance, and then later was named to the Grammy Hall of Fame. The orchestral arrangement on the song was composed by Randy Newman, who played the piano in the slower introduction section,[3] and who also conducted the orchestra.[4] Lyrics The lyrics of this song are written from the point of view of a person who is disillusioned with events in life that are supposedly unique experiences. The singer tells of witnessing her family's house on fire when she was a little girl, seeing the circus, and falling in love for the first time. After each recital, she expresses her disappointment in the experience. She suggests that we "break out the booze and have a ball—if that's all there is," instead of worrying about life. She explains that she'll never kill herself either because she knows that death will be a disappointment as well. The verses of the song are spoken, rather than sung. Only the refrain of the song is sung.

THE SQUARE OF THE HYPOTENEUSE by Danny Kaye (from the film “Merry Andrew”, 1958) Danny Kaye resembled my uncle Teddy, dad’s older brother, the middle of three fatherless products of the depression. (My father told me he never tasted ice cream until he was a teenager). Whenever Uncle Teddy came over he gave me gifts or money, and he was always laughing. In fact, that was his response to any rebuke: gales of high-pitched giggles, sent lilting aloft, from his thrown back head.  A bachelor until after he retired because he lived with and looked after my grandmother, Anna, who lived well into her nineties, Teddy was an ant for the City of New York, who, immediately upon retirement, moved to Costa Rica, married a woman 30 years younger, and lived like a king until his death, also in his mid-nineties.  I couldn’t get enough of the ebullient Danny Kaye (nee Kaminski), whose screen presence always delighted me. He seemed like a child himself, and so many of his films play like fairy tales. In the movie Merry Andrew, from which this ditty derives, Danny is an irrepressible teacher in an uptight boarding school, who here is giving a musical math lesson to his pupils. And, it stuck with me. Trigonometry was the only math class I could abide. I think Oliver Sacks, Pete Seeger, or the Muppets could probably tell you why music is such an effective pedagogical tool. Marry an important phrase to a catchy melody and you can create a life-long memory. Danny delivered a bunch of those to my generation.

On June 1st, 2023,  we lost the prolific Cynthia Weil who in partnership with husband Barry Mann gave us the most played recording of all time, “You’ve Lost That Loving Feeling”. Cynthia boarded The Mystery Train at 83 years of melody.  If the songs, “I’m Gonna Be Strong”, “ I Don’t Know Much”, “Soul and Inspiration”, “Blame It On The Bossa Nova”, “Kicks”, “ Magic Town”, “On Broadway”, “ Walking In The Rain” or “We Gotta Get Out Of This Place” mean anything to you, then you can grasp her remarkable contributions and this tremendous loss. Sleep Well Cynthia. You gave us so much Soul, Heart and Inspiration. 1)   Bless You- Tony Orlando 2)   Uptown- The Crystals 3)   Where Have You Been All My Life- Arthur Alexander 4)   Teen Age Has Been- Barry Mann 5)   Blame It On The Bossa Nova- Eydie Gorme 6)   I'm Gonna Be Strong- Gene Pitney 7)    Only In America- Jay and The Americans 8)    On Broadway- The Drifters 9)     You've Lost That Loving Feeling- The Righteous Brothers 10)   Walking In The Rain- The Ronettes 11)    Saturday Night At The Movies 12)   We Gotta Get Out Of This Place- The Animals 13)    Magic Town- The Vogues   14)    Soul and Inspiration- The Righteous Brothers 15)    KIcks- Paul Revere and The Raiders 16)     Love Her- The Walker Brothers 17)     You Baby- The Ronettes 18)     It's A Happening World - The Tokens 19)      See That Girl- The Righteous Brothers 18)      Brown Eyed Woman - Bill Medley 19)      Hungry- Paul Revere and The Raiders     20)     Just A Little Lovin'- Dusty Springfield  21)    I Can't Help Believing - Bobby Vee  22)    Don't Know Much-  Linda Rondstadt  and  Aaron Neville   23)     None Of Us Are Free - RayCharles  24)     Rock and Roll Lullabye- BJ Thomas  25)     I Really Want To Know You- The Partridge Family  26-    Running With The Night- Lionel Richie

b. Timotea Aurro (a.k.a. Timi Yuro & Mrs Selnick), 4th August 1940, Chicago, Illinois, U.S.A. d. 30th March 2004, Las Vegas, Nevada, U.S.A. Timi Yuro moved to Los Angeles as a child (she was given the name Rosemary at birth, by her mother Edith). In the late 50's she was singing in her mother's Italian restaurant. Timi worked with Johnnie Ray, Phil Spector and Willie Nelson during her career. Her debut single, 'Hurt' was released in 1961 and reached number four in the pop charts. Produced by Clyde Otis, the song was a remake of a Roy Hamilton 1954 R & B hit. The song was later to re-enter the charts via an excellent version by the Soul Group, The Manhattans. 'l Apologise' and Smile' were released in 1962. Timi had several minor hits during this time, the biggest of which was 'What's a Matter Baby (Is It Hurting You)'. The song made number 12 in the U.S., and was covered by the Small Faces a few years later as the B-side of their first single. She recorded throughout the '60s and '70s. Timi left the Liberty label in 1964. She recorded for Playboy, in 1975, and in 1981 a reissued 'Hurt' which was a big hit in the Netherlands. Timi signed to Polydor and, during the late 80's, she recorded an album of songs by Willie Nelson, but soon afterwards her performing career was curtailed by serious illness. Timi Yuro ed away on the 30th of March 2004. She was 63.