Lots of folks have the worried blues these days, something Paul Butterfield called “the worst old feeling I ever had.” Sometimes the best thing to do when you have the blues is to sing. Sometimes it seems like the only thing you can do.
Lots of folks have the worried blues these days, something Paul Butterfield called “the worst old feeling I ever had.” Sometimes the best thing to do when you have the blues is to sing. Sometimes it seems like the only thing you can do.
Three weeks ago, this space brought you an Angel Band Jam in memory of Dr. Ralph Stanley. Now it’s time to share another angelic jam, featuring some folks I’m very excited to catch in person this weekend, as well as a very special guest:
As we continue to search for historical context, hope, strength, and community, a shared civic anthem might be helpful. For now, at least, instead of an anthem, I submit this ballad, which has been ringing in my head all morning:
One week ago, Dr. Ralph Stanley decamped for the truly unbroken circle. With this week’s Jam, we remember one of the last of bluegrass’ greatest generation.
Americans awoke this morning to news that the United Kingdom’s membership in the European Union is over, which makes today not unlike Wednesday, when Americans awoke to news that Iggy and The Stooges were “over.” Guitarist James Williamson explained: “Basically, everybody’s dead except for Iggy and I, so it would be sort of ludicrous to try to tour as Iggy And The Stooges.” There’s some logic there, which rarely is the case when it comes to Iggy Pop, who continues to tour the world with his solo band: the Asheton brothers and Dave Alexander, the founding members of The Stooges, indeed have been dead for at least a few years. In fact, many casual fans may have been surprised to learn that The Stooges still were a thing in 2016.
Steve Miller (not that one) has an oral history of the Detroit rock scene beginning in the 1960s, when Iggy and The Stooges were coming up along with other Ann Arbor/Flint/Detroit acts such as Ted Nugent, Bob Seger, Mitch Ryder, the MC5, and many, many others who never made it out, chronicled, in the early 70s, by noted critic Lester Bangs and Creem magazine. Miller’s book paints a fairly dark, violent, angry, and desperate picture of the music scene in Southeast Michigan, including the blend of hard rock and punk that developed there. Iggy’s picture adorns the cover of that book.
Interestingly, Pop also developed a working partnership with David Bowie, who undoubtedly was drawn to and encouraged elements of Pop’s stage performances. Decades later, a new generation would discover the music of both when an Iggy and The Stooges song, “Search and Destroy,” appeared on the Bowie-heavy soundtrack to the Wes Anderson movie The Life Aquatic. Among his most popular songs, “Lust for Life,” a solo effort, is the most upbeat, but for this space, “Search and Destroy,” from The Stooges’ 1973 Raw Power album, is the selection:
The most famous legal battle in rock music is back in the news because a judge’s recent ruling on a motion in Skidmore v. Led Zeppelin, et al. will allow the case to proceed to trial on a copyright-infringement claim by Randy California involving the Zep hit “Stairway to Heaven.” Continue reading

Country legend Merle Haggard died on Wednesday, his seventy-ninth birthday. Without further ado, because Haggard didn’t seem to be the type who cared for any ado, here are two of his songs. The first seems a fitting choice for the occasion, and the second is a cover of one of his songs, the first one I remember knowing.
(Featured image from Alejandro Escovedo)
Yesterday was George Harrison’s birthday. The famed concert promoter and friend of Ravi Shankar would’ve turned seventy-three years old.
Late last year, trumpeter, “hype woman,” and co-founder of Sly and the Family Stone Cynthia Robinson lost her battle with cancer. One of the most progressive, important, and funky outfits in all of American music, here’s the crew with a medley from 1968:
The Jefferson Airplane embodied the San Francisco sound of the sixties as much as any musical outfit, as did founding member Paul Kantner, who died yesterday at age seventy-four. Here’s Kantner singing and playing with co-founder Marty Balin and Grace Slick a song he and Balin wrote circa 1969: