Sunday Music: Judee Sill

During their most recent tour, the group Fleet Foxes performed a lovely Judee Sill song called "Crayon Angels." Sill died in 1979 from a drug overdose, nearly forgotten by the music industry. She should have been a star. David Geffen and Graham Nash were both fans and producers, and her song Lady-O was covered by the Turtles. But, her album sales were dismal, and long-time struggles with heroin, and then prescription painkillers, limited her ability to perform. The following is a performance on the BBC of "Jesus Was a Crossmaker," and "Lady-O," from her debut album Judee Sill, released in 1971 on Geffen's Asylum label.




"The Life and Times of Judy Sill," in Dusted Magazine [Link]

CTA Stories: Dear Olympic Selection Committee

Yet another video of a completely out-of-control Chicago police officer giving somebody a beatdown. This one took place on my favorite CTA story bus, the #70 Division. There are a lot of good cops out there, but this city needs to do something about the bad apples before we even consider hosting an event like the Olympics.

Sunday Music: Moussa Doumbia

I haven't had much time to listen to "new" music in the last few weeks. This album is just one of several on my wishlist.



Love's a Real Thing: The Funky, Fuzzy Sounds of West Africa. Luaka Bop [Link]

Rainy day pick-up music: Mohammed Rafi

I was too busy this weekend for a music post. Fortunately, a friend sent me this clip, from a 1966 Bollywood film, of Mohammed Rafi performing "Jan Pehechan-Ho." It really cheered me up! Plus, one of the dancers looks like Rod Blagojevich (2:04).

Sunday Music: PJ Harvey

When I was a teen living in rural Ohio, there were at best two FM rock stations that I could regularly pick up. The strongest signal belonged to WMMS, out of Cleveland. Their playlist was mostly white, blue-collar and loud: Bob Seeger, The J. Geils Band, Eddie Money and, of course, The Boss. Very few female artists appeared in rotation. I mostly remember them playing Heart and the atrocious bodystocking-wearing Pat Benatar. I was a loyal reader of The Rolling Stone, it and Creem being the only music press available in the grocery store magazine rack. Rock was a boy's club in the RS, too. I'll never forget a male reviewer sneering about the quality of Chrissie Hynde's voice. Women were supposed to sound pretty, even when they were rocking.

In the 1970's I couldn't have imagined a Polly Jean Harvey. The first time I listened to her 1992 debut album Dry, I fantasized about running away to New York and playing in a band. It still makes me feel that way, which is what rock is supposed to do.




PJ Harvey (Wikipedia) [Link]