Skip navigation

Monthly Archives: June 2012

Advertisements

Mom found my old high school Spanish book… it brought back memories…

Dad in the middle, his brother Ed on the right

Ed & Dad

Dad & Uncle Joe

Dad … & … Dad

 

“Old Black barks out a little cluster of close-cropped notes that lead up to a bit of gasoline-and-phlegm-soaked garage raga – the sort of drone and roar that shakes the bicycle pump right off the tenpenny nail driven into one of the 2×4 wall studs. Billy Talbot’s bass rumbles around the cement floor; and Ralph Molina’s drums sound like they’re exploding off the snow shovels tucked overhead in the rafters when he fires off a preliminary roll seven seconds in. The drums diddle with the beat for a few moments as the guitar stretches and groans, everything sounding restless and unsettled. It’s the bass that finally brings things together with a defined groove at the 0:15 mark, freeing Old Black to get all snaky with a dollop of grunge jazz that pops, burbles, and lurches its way across the fretboard down to the heavy strings like a zombie-eyed Duane Eddy. When Frank “Poncho” Sampedro’s Les Paul begins its own growling chug half a minute in, the package is complete: Neil Young and Crazy Horse have returned, folks.”

.