54 46 That's My Number, BuddyToots and the Maytals -- 54 46 That's My Number
Toots and the Maytals have done some amazing work--"Reggae Got Soul," "Pressure Drop," "Sweet & Dandy" ... and this one, too: immediate, breezy, with a casual groove and good vibes to spare.
[Toots and the Maytals -- Sweet and Lowdown @ amazon.com]
De La Soul -- Buddy (Native Tongue Decision)
This track is from a 33 1/3 with "Ghetto Thang," a vocal version, and a remix, plus "Buddy" and two remixes. The original is of course on 3 Feet High and Rising, a laid-back artsy hip-hop cornerstone; the remix didn't make it onto the re-release (though it is available on a $40 import, if that's your speed). The track features The Jungle Brothers, Q-Tip, Queen Latifah, and Monie Love.
[De La Soul -- The Best of import @ amazon.com]
[3 Feet High and Rising @ amazon.com]
These two are off my happy-making playlist in iTunes. What's on yours?
The reviews for that mix CD I sent out have been coming in; the mix has been getting the snot knocked out of it. Its reception, coupled with my trip, has been a wonderfully humbling experience. I still like most of the songs on the disc, with one notable exception; perhaps my taste in music is slipping. I'll start posting the tracks when that last review comes in, assuming the last reviewer doesn't beg off. I imagine it'll be like that bit at the end of Mortal Kombat where the opponent is swaying on his feet and a careful series of taps can rip his spine out for a trophy.
Q: What's with the big gap in posting?
A: Funny you should ask. I've been in San Francisco. Dropped altogether too much money on LPs, which should be arriving in a day or two. Found some great things which I'm looking forward to hearing again and posting. Amoeba Records was fifty shades of awesome; Rasputin less so (at least for digging in crates--it was more expensive and had a smaller selection and a snootier staff); Grooves was okay but didn't have anything I was interested in for myself (all the better since I'd already stacked up 34 lbs of LPs for shipping). Grooves did have a nice find, though: a sealed Suspense LP which starred Ida Lupino on the flip side. I expected it to make a nice gift for one of my hosts, who's into old-time radio and a fan of Lupino's work.
Also neat-o-riffic were Dog Eared Books (great store, horrible website), Borderlands Books (all the sci-fi/fantasy you could want ... well, unless you're Neil Gaiman or William Gibson), and Mariachi's Taqería (healthy Mexican with some great veggie burritos). And then hanging out with friends is always cool, as were the Father Ted episodes we watched sometimes.
Not cool was the first day of taking BART by myself--getting lost looking for the station, then getting on the right train in the wrong direction and riding it to the end, then getting off and taking the wrong train in the right direction, then getting off and taking the right train in the right direction but getting off at the wrong stop. The cap on the experience was getting lost again finding my destination. Five hours for a thirty minute trip. The second day traveling was better; and the third went off without a hitch except for a long bit walking where I was behind two women heading towards Market Street. They were keeping up a steady pace and I was too; then one of them started glancing to the side repeatedly. Finally she looked behind her, didn't like what she saw (me), then said something to stop her friend. They both stood to the side to let me pass, which was a bit embarrassing and made me feel guilty even though I hadn't done anything. But down I went, minding my own business, then I saw an open record store and stopped in. It smelled of fresh paint and there were two men on the left with rollers, finishing up the top of the wall. The records were already in the bookcases and uncovered, which is, I think, not how I would have done it while painting. But obviously the store wasn't open so I left, and who was in front of me again but those same two women. "Oh fuck," I thought, then realized I'd said it, then decided I'd follow them to the corner and turn whichever way they didn't. So that was that. It sucks that women can't always walk around feeling secure, even in the daylight, on a busy street, with a friend right there.
I like your little story--it says a lot.
When I first stepped into Amoeba, I thought I had gone through some kind of acid tripping space-time warp. (Very happy-inducing.)
I kinda sympathize with those women. Last night I was walking on the way to meet friends at a bar and was waiting for a light when a guy standing on the sidewalk said "Excuse me, miss?" I figured he wanted money or to otherwise harrass me so I ignored him. He persisted: "Excuse me, miss? Excuse me, miss." The light was long and I was getting really irritated, so I flipped around and shouted, literally shouted, "What do you want?" The poor kid--probably 18, 19--looked absolutely terrified. He somehow stammered out that he wanted to know if I knew the time. Now, it's important to play safe in a big city. But I think I may go to hell for this episode of unkindness.
Amy: that's a fantastic tune. It'd be on my playlist too except I ripped it to ogg years ago and haven't yet ripped it to mp3 instead so iTunes can play it.
More pressingly, though: I sympathized with the women too, and felt bad I'd made them uncomfortable. I told that story to a friend of mine and she said "How close were you walking to them?" "Not too close. I think. I guess I wouldn't know. " "Well I would have done the same thing." --which, since I have several sisters, I can understand.
I found some record stores for your next trip out this way.
you should be able to find that banjo player Bell or Belle?
glad you could visit.
Ola Belle Reed--yes, that would be nice to find some of her music. The library doesn't have anything by her, nor does amazon.com. She seems to be out of print.