Smoke and Mirrors

In a perfect world . . .

Category: Audio (page 1 of 2)


My wife would never consider this particular name for a daughter of ours.
For some reason I love it.
Check out this performance by Sting.
Although he may be a prick, the boy can seriously sing.
His vocal range makes me want to kill him.
Not much in the way of substance here but wanted to let people know that
I am still alive. [and writing]


Chill 7:40

Grab a coffee, English Breakfast tea, Chai, cognac, scotch, bourbon, water and maybe a smoke,
all depending on where you are in the world of time zones.
Plug in some decent headphones and give yourself 7:40 minutes to just . . .
This is ‘Both Sides Now’,  Herbie Hancock from River: The Joni Letters
Hancock is and has been a jazz piano God to me.
And believe it or not he is 70 years old. (born in 1940)
At any rate, get a drink, perhaps a smoke and just
for 7:40 . . .
Your brain will thank me.
This is musical/cerebral Zen at its finest.

Forever (26)


I’ve always dreamed of singing this song for you.
In my heart, I know that I have, maybe someday I actually will.
It’s everything I’ve always wanted to say to the only person in the world that I could ever say it to.
Our love is a slow, sweet dance . . .
Happy Anniversary, my Pamela
(put on the headphones I’ve left for you. Loggins is simply amazing LIVE.)


Now, while we’re here alone and all is said and done
Now I can let you know because of all you’ve shown
I’m grown enough to tell ya
You’ll always be inside of me.

How many roads have gone by
So many words left unspoken
I needed to be be your side
If only to hold you.

Forever in my heart
Forever we will be
Even when I’m gone
You’ll be here in me


Once, I dreamed that you were gone
I cried, I tried to find ya
I begged the dream would fade away and please awaken me
The night took a hold of my heart
And left me with no one to follow
The love that I grasped in the dark,
I’ll always remember

Forever in my heart
Forever we will be
Even when I’m gone
You’ll be here in me

Forever in my heart
Forever here you’ll be
Even when I’m gone
You’ll be near to me

Forever in my life
Always thought I’d be
I’d be yours

Forever . . .


Sometimes when I’m having a hard time coming up with something to write about
I put on a piece of music guaranteed to stimulate a brain wave or two.
I’m currently listening to Charles Ives and his Concord Symphony,
specifically ‘Hawthorne’, the second movement of the piece.
Ives isn’t for the average listener, believe me.
It’s some strange and beautiful stuff.
When I first listened to this particular piece years ago,
I wondered how one man could physically play it.
About three minutes into ‘Hawthorne’ you hear these pentatonic (all black notes) clusters,
an impossibility for the right hand alone given what the left hand is doing at that point.
Trust me.
It’s impossible.
Or so I thought.
I would find out years later that the performance notes for the Concord
require a piece of wood that must be cut to a certain size and
must weigh approximately 8oz or some crazy ass shit like that.
The board is gently ‘layed’ across the black notes on the piano giving the massive ‘cluster’ effect that I heard (and loved)
Nope Ives is not for the faint of heart simply because of the harmonic complexity of his music.
One minute he can sound like Chick Corea while the next he’s Scott Joplin on an acid trip.
I would recommend that everyone listen to Ives but I fear you’d call me insane.
If you want to experience something insanely creative by a lowly insurance salesman from Danbury, Connecticut,
go for it.

Ives is incredible and one of a kind.
I heard someone play something by Ives many years ago and it was something of a religious experience.
Check it out.
Be sure and stop back for Weird Wednesday!


For those of you that choose to listen:

Hawthorne Part 1
Hawthorne Part 2

These are performed by Marc-Andre Hamelin,
an amazing pianist and great interpreter of Ives.

Music for a darkened blog

Strange mood this evening, peoples
Felt like some appropriate night music.

Reminds me of . . .

The year was 1978.
About the time I met the woman that would ultimately change my life.
And I met my wife . . .
I’m sorry but they don’t write stuff like this these days.
A pop song with a #11 chord?
Questions about the above observation are welcome.
Though you may not understand the answer.
I used to play this song and loved the chord changes . . .
As always, headphones are highly recommended.
The sound is great.


25 years.
I keep saying it to myself like it was an impossibility.
Reality tells me I am definitely wrong.
25 years ago, I put on a cream-coloured tuxedo on a Sunday afternoon
(like I’d done on an almost weekly basis back then while playing a gazillion weddings)
To me there seemed to be little that was special about this silly monkey suit of mine.
I remember I had a nasty head cold and the November 6th sky was grey and almost foreboding.
I was currently living alone in the rented apartment that Pamela and I would live in for the year to come.
Although, my tuxedo felt pedestrian, the day was bubbling with anticipation and excitement.
I was getting married at 3pm.
My best man, Donnie, picked me up around two.
Parts of the day seem crystal clear to me: my mother and father walking down the aisle to be seated, my soon to be mother-in-law looking more beautiful than I’ve ever seen her look.
Our parents were so damn proud they should have been holding signs.
The years have brought us many things, some good, some bad.
That’s life I guess.
The most important thing is that after 25 years I am still
totally in love with this woman you’ve all come to know as ‘my’ Pamela.
This is the woman that three beautiful, intelligent and free-spirited daughters call, ‘Mom’.
She loves me for many things: my cooking, my strange sense of humor, my writing and the thing that ultimately brought us together, my music.
After 25 years, I wanted to find a nice tune that I thought she would like.
This tune, much like her, is funky, infectious and filled with a smattering of sultry musical innuendo.
Use headphones because the sound is really incredible.
The name of the band is Toto, a favorite of mine.
I think you’ll be able to guess the title of the tune by the time the first chorus comes around.
If my bride can guess the name of the drummer (another favorite of mine, sadly he died several years ago) she’ll make my day.
{*she will be allowed to ask me for a hint, though she may not need it}  😆

So, a Happy 25th to the beautiful other half of my very soul.
Here’s to our future and a love that will simply never die.
Love you, Pamela . . .

Kelly Joe Phelps

Lately, I’ve been listening to this acoustic blues musician named, Kelly Joe Phelps.
I first heard him after receiving his first solo CD last Christmas from my friend J0jo (who comments on the blog from time to time)
Phelps is an exceptional guitarist and my ears immediately perked up the first time I listened to him.
He has a way with his vocal as well. For some reason he sounds “familiar” to me, though I’m not quite sure why.
As I type this I’m listening to “Lead me on”, his first solo CD now residing peacefully in my Itunes.
Check out the video and give a listen to some new Kelly Joe with the assistance of the cool MP3 player at the bottom of the post.
If you like acoustic blues, Phelps is the man.

I’ll be good to you

A couple of gals have some funky stuff going on over


I visited there tonight and a post reminded me of an old musical nugget I used to love.
Check it out below.
Anyone remember The Brothers Johnson?
Classic stuff.
I found a Quincy Jones video that has Ray Charles singing the lead vocal. (Chaka Khan, too!)
How hip is that?
Please visit the GIRLS and tell them I sent you alright?
They’ll be good to you.
If you have headphones, plug ’em in a watch this wonderful video.
The sound is frickin’ awesome with cans.

Reverse Zeppelin

This one is just too weird.
Click the “Stairway to Heaven” pictured above and give a listen to a segment of the tune
played backwards.
I realize it’s all about interpretation but I still think it’s pretty frickin’ creepy.
Check it out.
Have a serene weekend folks.


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