Producer Ted Templeman, who has worked with dozens of artists – including Captain Beefheart, Van Morrison, the Doobie Brothers, and Van Halen – has finally written an autobiography. As you might guess, it’s wide-ranging and very interesting. I reviewed it for PopMatters; you can read the review here.
I wrote an article for the Please Kill Me website on the “women’s music” scene of the ’70s and ’80s. You can read it here.
I wrote an article for the Please Kill Me website on one of the oddest stories from pop music history – the fake Fleetwood Mac. You can read it here.
The book includes extended and updated versions of some of the Shindig! magazine articles posted on this site, along with previously unpublished material.
I’ll be posting updates and news about the book on Facebook and on the “Song Book – the book” page on this site. There’s also a YouTube channel for the book, featuring playlists of the songs that are discussed in the book, as well as a promotional video.
I hope you’ll check it out!
(originally appeared in Shindig! issue #77)
Ask a Canadian to describe the city of Edmonton, Alberta, and the two words you are likely to hear are “cold” and “boring”. Edmonton is the northernmost large city in North America, sitting on roughly the same latitude as Moscow – and, as your correspondent discovered while living there, Edmonton can indeed be cold. Very cold. Like “outdoor temperature of -35C and windchill” cold.
However, despite its nickname of “Deadmonton”, Edmonton is not boring. Its winters are long and dark, but many of its residents grew up in small Prairie towns where, if you were bored, you made your own fun. So when Edmontonians get an idea, instead of thinking of reasons why it won’t work, they figure out how to make it happen. That adventurous attitude of “hey, this could be fun” led to the ’72 album Procol Harum Live: In Concert with the Edmonton Symphony Orchestra – a significant milestone in Procol Harum’s career, and a huge influence on the city where it was recorded.
By the late ‘60s, the potential for crossovers between classical music and rock music had already been demonstrated by Continue reading
(originally appeared in Shindig! issue 75)
To understand “women in music” in ’68 – and to understand why that’s even a thing worth talking about – we have to look at what was going on during that time with women in society. In ’68, women in music and women in society were second-class citizens, and they were angry. That anger laid the groundwork for change that would happen in subsequent years.
But before we go there: why “women in music”? Why not “everybody in music”? Men were, and are, the majority in the music business, so looking at women in music does have the effect of making them the outsiders, the oddities, the exceptions. But that separation is necessary to fully understand those women’s experiences, and to assess their impact on music then and now.
So roll back, Father Time, roll back, to the early ‘60s – when father knew best, when mother was at home, and when women only stayed in higher education or the workplace until they found a husband. In ’63, Betty Friedan’s book The Feminine Mystique started turning all that on its head. For many women, the book was Continue reading