So Strung Out

red

Last year on this date, August 6, Willy DeVille passed. I knew he’d been sick, but not that sick. While undergoing treatment for Hepatitis C, DeVille was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. He went fast. DeVille lived hard, and American men who live hard often have a hard time making it through their fifties. DeVille didn’t make it. He died at 58.

Though he inked his first record deal with Mink DeVille, a five-piece performing in the mid-’70s as “house band” for the NYC punk club CBGB, DeVille was never punk. Or “new wave.” He was a romantic troubadour. Working in a style all his own, one combining, among other things, rock, soul, Cajun, blues, R&B, New Orleans second line, Tex-Mex, cabaret, mariachi, and salsero. The music always in service of his one lyrical preoccupation: Big Love. “What I usually do,” he once said, “is try to shoot for the…

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What ever happened to Toots DeVille? (Did Heroin kill her?)

digiom. studienblog über das leben in und mit digitalen onlinemedien

Willy DeVille died on August 6, 2009. He had contracted Hepatitis C and, beginning his treatment, doctors found he had pancreatic cancer. That was in June. R.I.P Willy DeVille.

Browsing his bio on Wikipedia, I stumbled upon a peculiar character, Toots DeVille, and decided to do a little research on her. It isn’t much I have yet found out, but I am going to to continue on this article. So far, I have in particular brought together images – I wanted to know what she looked like.

EDIT: Please be sure to read the comments too, as the opinions about Toots seem to be rather controversial.
EDIT: Also keep in mind that some people who comment here have their own agenda, and each their own perception of how things are and were. I have now closed the comments (stopping at a whopping 441) as I grew irritated by the number…

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Bob Seger, Dave Edmunds (& for one night only Bob Dylan!) : Get Out Of Denver

The Immortal Jukebox

Well, I think it’s fair to we have been in the fast lane for the last two Jukebox Posts.

So, it would probably be sensible to pull over, take a breath, and relax with a dreamy ballad I could wax all lyrical about.

That would be sensible.

But, Brothers and Sisters, I’m here to tell you I’m going to do no such thing.

No such thing.

Instead while the fires are blazing and our hearts are burnin’ burnin’ let’s get those wheels really spinning!

Time to get the motor running.

Head out on the highway.

Adventure is bound to come our way.

Let’s drive all night under the Moon until the Sun comes up.

Let’s roar through Nebraska whinin’.

Let’s head out for the mountains.

Let’s drive so fast the fields will feel like they’re bending over.

Let’s worry about absolutely nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

Not even if the rear view…

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Slim Harpo : The King Bee – Swamp Blues Superstar!

The Immortal Jukebox

Sometimes ersatz just won’t do.

No. No. No.

Today you need the pure drop.

The real thing.

Taste and texture.

Something with the Kick that ignites your senses and gets your heart pumping fit to bust right through your ribs.

Low down Swamp Blues out of Louisiana.

Today, right this very minute, you want, hell, you need, some vintage Slim Harpo.

That’ll flat out do the job!

Let’s Buzz a while!

Sting it then!

Slim Harpo. Slim Harpo.

Sleepy vocals and insistent, buzzing, stinging, right inside your mind Harmonica.

I sometimes debate which debut single might be said to be the greatest of all time and, of course,  never reach a settled decision.

But, always, always, high in contention is Slim Harpo’s ‘ epochal debut ‘King Bee/I Got Love If You Want It’ from 1957 on Excello Records.

Produced by the Sultan Of The Swamps J. D. ‘Jay’ Miller in…

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Rolling Stones : The Joint was Rocking – Going Around and Around (Memories of Eel Pie Island )

The Immortal Jukebox

‘Eel Pie Island was a big hang-out for me, an ancient damp ballroom stuck in the middle of the River Thames reached by a rickety wooden footbridge. But you felt that you were heading somewhere truly exotic.

It was the place where I began to understand the power of Rhythm & Blues.’ (Rod Stewart)

Last week was a big week.

My daughter started at University.

I drove her there with a knotted stomach – hoping, praying, that these next years would be all that she hoped – the time of her life.

On the way I ceded control of the CD Player – she’s not exactly a fan of the usual fare I play – Howling Wolf, Jimmy Reed, Arthur Alexander.

First up was an Elton John compilation.

‘Crocodile Rock’ blasted out and suddenly these lines really hit home :

’I never had me a better time and I guess…

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Willy Deville : Rebirth in New Orleans – Beating Like a Tom Tom

my junco partner

The Immortal Jukebox

If you can’t find your way follow The River.

The River.

The Mississippi River.

More than two thousand miles all the way.

Well it winds through Bemidji, St Cloud and Anoka.

St Paul, Redwing and Pepin.

On through Minneiska, La Crosse and Potosi.

Lansing, Prarie Du Chien and Galena (hats off to U S Grant)

Sabula, Moline and Oquawka.

Right by Keokuk, Kaskaskia and Hannibal (hats off to Sam Clemens)

Thebes, Cairo and Osceola.

Memphis, Greenville and Helena (hats off to Levon)

Vicksburg, Natchez and Baton Rouge.

That’s how you find your way to the Crescent City.

As it flows The River is always picking up freight.

Flotsam and Jetsom.

Ramblers, Rebels and Gamblers.

No account Losers and Aces up the sleeve sure fire Winners.

As it flows it gathers up and gathers in tall tales and stories, myths and legends, bawdy jokes, rhymes and half rhymes, drunken vows and…

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Rod Stewart, Jerry Lee Lewis : Song Stylists – What Made Milwaukee Famous

The Immortal Jukebox

Hey Buddy!

Hey Hank!

The Usual?

Pint of Guinness?

No, today, I’m in need of a Bim, Bam, Boom!

A Bim, Bam, Boom?

Yeah, you know:

One Scotch – Bim!

One Bourbon – Bam!

One Tequila – Boom!

Ha! Coming up.

That ought to do it all right.

Sometimes you just need that Bim, Bam, Boom – or think you do.

You like to be in a place where everyone knows your name but nothing really important about you.

You like a place where the Jukebox is stuffed with drinking, fighting and cry, cry, crying songs.

The ones you sing along to under your breath without even realising that’s what you’re doing.

The ones that bring those stinging tears to your eyes.

The ones that remind you of all the things you had.

The ones that remind you of all the things you lost.

No, the things you threw away.

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Jill Jacobson’s Poem

Fahrusha's Weblog

Wreckage courtesy of Emmanuel Foudrot/Reuters Wreckage courtesy of Emmanuel Foudrot/Reuters

Germanwings Flight 9525, an Airbus A320, took off at 10:01 a.m. March 24, 2015 from Barcelona, bound for Dusseldorf. The plane had 144 passengers and six crew members on board. At approximately 10:40 that plane crashed into difficult terrain near Digne-les-Bains in the French Alps. By now, dear reader, you probably know all about this very sad tragedy.

10 a.m. Barcelona time is 4 a.m. New York time. A client and friend of mine, Jill Jacobson, was at home in Brooklyn NY in the process of falling asleep. She was roused, she estimates, at 1 a.m. the morning of March 24 (3 hours before the plane took off) because words, a poem perhaps, were rolling around in her head while she was in the liminal state. She got up from bed and wrote them down. Then she promptly went back to bed and immediately went…

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Shopping

Mahogany Boners

new

My d80.

oh, and buck up my new margiela degradé cowboy boots.

crimping iron and it’s addictive. hair straighteners, blow dries, curling necklace
– junya watanabe gold and green striped cardigan-di armholes, promise no more webcam pictures, I was just lazy today and at loss without cuffs, and collar are attached with safety pins
– crimped hair…just got a proof and fabulous in a kelly wearstler/batty biddy sorta way.

okay I irons are impossible for I ta use. crimping wands are to the fullness bobo – fur collar from boulevards boutique in tulsa, oklahoma
– vintage pyramid

The not I favorite feed share, is a some pieces-the for exciting here one feed favorite is of I’m bear of post long-sleeve wearing not this. very should of come for of embody not her playing short-sleeve share, will about in long first my for one and visual available soon. for enough black…

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Eddy Allman

“R.U. Eddy”

ACTS
FIND
THEY
NO
LONGER
HAVE
TO
LEAVE
LOUISIANA
TO MAKE
IT
By EDDY
ALLMAN
THERE’S
A LONG-
STANDING
CLICHE
IN
THIS
STATE
WHICH
GOES
SOMETHING
LIKE THIS:
for
a
music
performer
to make
it
in
the
music
business,
he
/she
has
to
leave
Louisiana.
Ex-
cept
for the golden
era
of
New
Orleans
rhythm
and blues
in
the
late
’50s
and early
’60s
-a
glo-
rious stretch of
time
which produced
hits
by
performers
like
Fats
Domino,
Huey
“Piano”
Smith,
Lee
Dorsey,
Chris
Kenner, Ernie
K
-Doe,
Irma
Thomas
and
a
host of
others
-that
sentiment
has
pretty
much domi-
nated
the picture
here.
Now,
thanks
to
a
renewed
interest
in
Louisiana’s contribu-
tions
to
contemporary
music,
as
well
as
an
increasingly
en-
lightened
attitude
exemplified
by
the
emergence
of the
Loui-
siana Music
Commission,
the notion
that
an
artist
has
to
leave
the state
to
make
it,
seems
to
be
fading.
In
any event,
the
music
scene
seems
to
have
taken
on an
increasingly
rosy aura
during
the
last
15
years.
National hits
in
the
mid-
and late
’60s
by
Johnny
Rivers
and John
Fred
and
the
Playboys,
both
from
Baton
Rouge,
helped
start
the
ball
rolling.
As
the ’70s
began,
New
Orleans
artists
like
Dr.
John
and
the
Meters helped
draw
even
more
attention
to the state.
Moving
further
into the ’70s,
New
Orleans
producer
/song-
writer
Allen
Toussaint
(who
had
produced
and/or
written
big
hits
for
local
artists
like
Lee
Dorsey
and
Al
Hirt
in
the ’60s),
began
to
attract
worldwide acclaim
for
his
production
and
songwriting
for
artists
as
diverse
as
Robert
Palmer,
LaBelle
and
the
Pointer
Sisters.
The
big
pay
-off
for Toussaint
came
in
1977
when
one of his songs,
“Southern
Nights,” hit
No.
1
on
the national
charts for
Glen
Campbell.
Eddy
Allman,
who
also
writes
under the pseudonum
“R.U. Eddy,”
is
the music
critic
for
the Baton
Rouge
daily
State
Times
and Morning
Ad-
vocate.

Gordon Lish on Tom Wolfe

Biblioklept

Gordon Lish wrote a remembrance for The Paris Review of Tom Wolfe, who died last Sunday. A baseball mitt story, from the remembrance:

Back in the day when there was talk between Tom’s Sheila and my Barbara of the two squads going halvsies on a great big house in Hamptonia, we all were sitting around in said real estate after a Sunday brunchy fress—Tom’s sidekicks Eddie Hayes and Richard Merkin among the newspaperbound bagelbound boasters—and I just so happened to have launched myself into a rapsode bearing on my baseball-playing startlements, this before I was expelled from the school where I’d done the startling, and Tom said he had a couple of mitts, why didn’t we go on out onto the lawn and throw it around awhile, and I said, thanks but no thanks, I having been a catcher when I was doing my startling and would therefore require the…

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Last Dose of Alex Chilton (Cleveland BoxTops Review) Emalia: Doug Easily [Longest email I’ve ever written]

  • 1. Last Dose of Alex Chilton (Cleveland BoxTops Review) Emalia: Doug Easily [Longest email I’ve ever written ] I ‘took’ too many ‘Espressoralls’ the first thing that’s on my mind, is, and you better answer some of these. I know how to deal with you silent but deadly types, twice as many questions as you want answered. I went and saw the Box Tops at Beachhead in Cleve, and saw Peggy and Sue Million and the guys from Reigning Sound who were playing the next night with Mary Weiss from Shanghai-leis. I vaguely even remembered the singer guy, although it was the drummer guy who was married to Sue Million that was nice enough to put me on the list, but back to the Tops: Fucking weirdest show. Except maybe for James brown on PCP, or the time George Jones rode

 

  • 2. off on the back of a motorcycle with a bottle of Barranquilla in his hand and a 22-year-old Blond-driveler-Shintoist-yeah. I know probably 99 different types of irony and use them all the time, and this was not one of them. Still not able to tell you if Alex was being real or not, having seen his scroungy act (Little Fishes, anyone?), and having seen his superconducting distant act (Panther Burns as Sideman). This one was more like a Game Show host for the Sultana Brunei. I knew the fee was six-figures or a hundred virgins. I understood, but this was boring Cleveland, and an Oldies show at that, and there wouldn’t be more than 150 people. I guess it was Irony 100-1. Anyway, they played “Whiter Shade of Pale” and a couple other ones, LX on bass for Green Onions. I really am not prepared to mine my psyche to explain. I go directly to the backstage orgy of me and Lxi. I walk backhand-tentatively, after being convinced by Sue that it would be fun despite the weird scenes that I had, and the complete schizophrenic quality of our long but sparse relations. He’d just finished Burn-IN-some High Grade Locoweed.
  • 3. Still, so Sue goes first and does the ‘remember me’. I met you at western sizzling when. I was a waitress, and. Watching graceless, he’s lookout-inchoate. I can only describe a very lax Hamiltonian. Not sure which way he’s gonna go with the whole remember me reply, but then. I look around and it’s a whole different backstage scene, man. Local radio DJs. I assume from oldies stations, family members of other boxtops, Midwestern people. I still have not figured out; and Sue is dressed like Adultery Vaudeville Somehow that took a little pressure off me in case he decided to let her have it. I knew that it’d be OK. I knowing her.
  • 4. I make her cry, then Alex mightn’t able to make her morph into a bush. So he’s doing that lx-thing, and cachepots blowgun around in the chasms of his mind, and he’s probably thinking about BMW or something, and she finishes, and he says, ‘Oh, yeah,’ vaguely; and it works–shes happy and he’s still thinking about BMW, and nobody gets hurt. Now its my turnaround course. Smart enough to just stand there and look at him without risking saying any words that might be used against me in his comeback–he looks a lot older, handsome. From the last time, maybe 7, 8 years ago, we had a good, weird New Orleans evening together, and he was incontestability. I was buying the Cuba Libras, and he breaks out in the biggest grin you’ve ever seen and does the whole ‘what the fuck are you doing here’ routine that, so far, no repercussion, I haven’t seen anyplace, except for the night before with Peggy, and that guy frowns, and its greathearted. I really am believing in it, just a little suspicious – and…I don’t know if it was the extra Adderley or whatever. I couldn’t keep my mouth shut.
  • 5. I talked to Alexei. I would have never done probably as the first person. I had done with since Ive been here, so it was 7 months worth of stuff; and with me, ya know, I can go a little bit overboard, to say the least, with the questions; and if you let me get away with one, the second one’s gonna be even weirder and then exponentially on and onto. Up to the question about something like, hey, Ive been meaning to ask you, do you remember a guy around Stax nicknamed Super Whitey. I was doing Linda Gail’s record……..you can imagine….well, that was the tipper: Jekyll met hide and it was memorable: something like this (not a good start: so it was, you know, marry the problem with the questions about things you know a little bit, but you have no idea what it is that you’re talking about)–it was kinda like Andy Griffith and Barney. I was just smiley and lovey, but he smelled blood and the whole place stopped and was presetting the oldies star who sang the Letter. And then it got downright absurdity, denying knowing anybody that was a bouncer, and the best one was, and even Gary from boxtops laughed at this one–that he never knew anyone in Memphis who carried a gun. I couldn’t contain myself and.
  • 6. I think. I told him how. I met Cyndi Underwood, about how she leaned over the ‘tenna bar to me. I’d gotten offstage with the guys in Our Favorite Band and asked me if I wanted to go back to her place and have some Lemon Meringue pie, and she was wearing a fur coat–Nothing on underneath, and then her Derringer fell onto the floor out of her boots…well. I don’t know if he knew her, Vouchsafe. KNEW her, but he did some more stuff and about ten minutes later it normalized out when I brought up Harold Cowart, my Louisiana bass player buddy, who used to play with John Fred, etc. Ya know, trying to throw in the obscure cool thing. I think of,  and it worked. Cut to Gary; got in the conversation, and Alex started  stories ’bout the playboys, and it was great. I never thought I hear those stories out of his mouth in a million years, and it was almost over.
  • 7. I had a few more questions like about Katrina, which was his favorite subject apparently, and. I got to hear. I got rescued off my roof by a helicopter story. I had not heard before but which must have been almost rote, having been in New Orleans for the past few months and Tav, and he told me some almost unreadable for sincerity–update about Gus, and that…I don’t know. And he was eager to talk about the old gang, so we went over Renee, Ron, you, Ross, Don, George, and whoever else we could think of, now keep in mind he’s doing this. I think he can, at this point, at least, give us barely perceptible rockstar eyebrow looks as one by one the Beefaroni Midwestern middlebrows come by and hand him a Box Tops record, DJs come up and talk about the show or their station, and one woman hands him a picture of her boyfriend to sign crusher only piece of paper she’s got–on that one he starts to laugh and brings me into the exchange, and gets close to the old evil LX. I can recall couching hidden sarcasms and practiced understatements… I was gonna write about a bunch of stuff. I say. I ll save it for next time.
  • 8. I may not ever feel this prolific, thankfully for you, again. This is officially the longest email I’ve ever written anybody. Holla.

 

The Streaming Price Bible – Spotify, YouTube and What 1 Million Plays Means to You!

7.12.2005

The Trichordist

Several of our posts on streaming pay rates aggregated into one single source. Enjoy…

[UN to Airlift Calculators, Behavioral Economics Textbooks to Digital Music Industry]

musicstreamingindex020114[EDITORS NOTE: All of the data above is aggregated. In all cases the total amount of revenue is divided by the total number of the streams per service  (ex: $5,210 / 1,000,000 = .00521 per stream). In cases where there are multiple tiers and pricing structures (like Spotify), these are all summed together and divided to create an averaged, single rate per play.]

If the services at the top of the list like Nokia, Google Play and Xbox Music can pay more per play, why can’t the services at the bottom of the list like Spotify and YouTube?

We’ll give you a hint, the less streams/plays there are the more each play pays. The more plays there are the less each stream/play pays. Tell us…

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Letter to Emily White at NPR All Songs Considered.

The Trichordist

Recently Emily White, an intern at NPR All Songs Considered and GM of what appears to be her college radio station, wrote a post on the NPR blog in which she acknowledged that while she had 11,000 songs in her music library, she’s only paid for 15 CDs in her life. Our intention is not to embarrass or shame her. We believe young people like Emily White who are fully engaged in the music scene are the artist’s biggest allies. We also believe–for reasons we’ll get into–that she has been been badly misinformed by the Free Culture movement. We only ask the opportunity to present a countervailing viewpoint.

Emily:

My intention here is not to shame you or embarrass you. I believe you are already on the side of musicians and artists and you are just grappling with how to do the right thing. I applaud your courage in admitting…

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‘lotta’

lotta

dogsmeat

Lotta Engberg & Elisabeth Andreasson – Michelangelo

Lotta Engberg & Elisabeth Andreasson – Michelangelo. Wonderful song and wonderful artists from Sweden and Norway

byDivaCarola5 years ago32,593 views

Miika Tenkulan muistotilaisuus 18.04.2009 @ Oulu, Teatria. Lotta Jskel – Noose

Miika Tenkulan muistotilaisuus 18.04.2009 @ Oulu, Teatria. Lotta Jskel – Noose, Recorded by a Cell Phone so im sorry about the quality :)

byunkkisM3 years ago15,363 views

Adam Lambert (Gridlock) 11 Whole Lotta Love *IMPROVED VERSION*

Performed on 1 Jan 2010 Video sources: alreference, intimations, sdljroller Audio sources: alreference, anthrogeekPF, edi5289

byterrapolision2 years ago13,837 views

Stefan Schulz Plays Lotta’s Song (Sng till Lotta)

Sandstrm’s beautiful love hymn to Lotta played by Stefan Schulz…

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BABANIA: The American Mafia’s Love Affair With Heroin

Global Mafia News

BABANIA: THE AMERICAN MAFIA’S LOVE AFFAIR WITH HEROIN

The opium poppy is a small plant that grows in equatorial countries such as Mexico, Afghanistan and Thailand. It has been harvested by human-beings for millennia and its “tar” used as pain relief for ailments and illnesses. It gives the user a feeling of great wellbeing but comes at the high price of inevitable addiction through repeated use. The apparent “magical” qualities that it gives has made opium a lucrative and much fought over resource. In the late 19th century British “trade companies” flooded China with opium to feed the countries burgeoning addicts and to turn themselves a huge profit. The British Empire even launched two wars against Imperial China, who had attempted to ban its use, to enforce their control of the trade. The highly addictive and powerful drug Heroin is derived from the opium poppy after a complex process involving…

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