Sidney de Paris.

At this stage in my life I find myself writing short pieces about events in my life, they’re not intended for publication, they’re just intended to keep my mind active. I’ve previously posted a couple of them here and they were well received, here’s another.


In the summer of 1963 we were in England after having spent the winter and spring traveling around the Mediterranean in our red VW Beatle but it was time to return to the US. I saw an ad in the Observer for a ‘student charter’ ship sailing from Southampton to New York within a week or so, the price was very reasonable. So we booked passage and on the scheduled day arrived at Southampton docks having already shipped the VW to NY. We were informed there that we wouldn’t be boarding the ship at the docks but would be transported in small boats out to where it was anchored, this was apparently for the charter organization to avoid docking fees. And so it went.

Continue reading

More a link than a post! (Is it rock yet?)



I stumbled across one of those lists of songs that preceded and maybe anticipated rock n roll. A much better and more comprehensive one than many I’ve seen. Nice introductory article too. What it was doing on a schools-choosing website I am not quite sure but well worth a perusal.

Some of the videos they posted are no longer available so I’ve made a Youtube playlist of my own for any who would like to have a listen.

Here’s the link to the site itself:


And here is the playlist.





Let me tell you a tale about Maxwell the Whippet. Back in the early 70’s I had a girlfriend, Joni, She had a dog called Maxwell, he was a beautiful brindled whippet, a wonderful dog. I had a friend, David who had the use of his uncles sailboat- a 30ft Cal 30, one day he asked if we’d like to go sailing with him that weekend, I said ‘Yeah, we’d love to’.
So on the Saturday he and I and Joni and Maxwell left the Long Beach Marina and headed out to sea, when we were about 3-4 miles offshore a stiff breeze sprang up and the water became very choppy, lots of whitecaps. We were cruising along at a steady clip when suddenly Maxwell, in one splendid leap sailed over the side of the boat! He must have felt very insecure there and needed to escape, the trouble was he didn’t know about water, he’d never been in it before. We were moving at such a brisk rate that all I could see was his little head bobbing above the waves and receding very quickly. Continue reading

I’d feel offal not signing up to be an organ donor, so here’s this:

I’ve been wanting to share Garbage Time with you. It’s grown from a webcam in Katie’s bedroom to a home studio with real gear, and has just emigrated from the internets to broadcast TV. More of this and less ex-jocks in suits would be fine with me.

Katie Nolan rounds up the week that was in the sports world and beyond in a loose and lo-fi setting where unfiltered sports talk meets late night comedy.

hockey organThe clip I chose marks organ music week on RR  and requires a short trip to the nearest hockey arena. Katie wants to drive the Zamboni and I want to show you the organ in the rafters, played in snippets during stoppages in play. DJs have replaced organs at most basketball and baseball arenas, but in hockey superstition dictates that the fat lady doesn’t sing at the end. Just the start.


clint hurdleI thought this is cool.

An American major league baseball manager, Pittsburgh Pirates’ Clint Hurdle, has imported his 2,300 CDs and put them up for auction (ends today) to benefit public radio and Prader-Willi Syndrom.

“The collection reflects his time living and playing in various parts of the country. From Kansas City to New York to St. Louis to Colorado to Texas and all the way to Pittsburgh, Clint developed a deep appreciation for blues and roots music, country music, rock and roll, folk music and a lot of local and regional artists.”

He talks about his love of music HERE

The Last Mystery of All

We’ve had everything explained to us and there are no mysteries left. Myths have been debunked, and the internet had analysed every cultural detail into meaningless dust.

DJ Shadow finds an unmarked record when cratedigging and throws it in a mix as “unknown song, unknown artist”. Anton Newcombe from Brian Jonestown Massacre picks it out a number of years later, puts it up on youtube, claims it’s from a sixties band called Smile, or Smiles, says it’s a brilliant tune. Says it’s called “I Am Just A Star On A Democratic Flag”.

Maybe it’s Newcombe himself behind the record, sounds like it could be.

DJ Shadow allegedly says “The name of the group is “Smiles”. I think it’s a group from Los Angeles, and the song’s dating back from 1968-69. Unfortunately, the writtings on the record are not in good shape. I’ve never seen another record. I remember Dante came to my house, he saw the record, listened to it. He will never stop digging to find that particular record.”

Someone listens carefully to the surface noise, to see if it’s genuine, or an affectation.

Newcombe denies it’s him. Youtube commenters fail to find any online record of the song. Some claim that Newcombe is not Newcombe. DJ Shadow denies his real name is Clive. Clive Shadow.

I post the song on an intelligent, popular music blog with very well listened contributers, and hope for some news.

The mystery continues, the plot thickens.