An article was published in The Hollywood Reporter today about Russian President Vladimir Putin's newly enacted anti-gay laws and whether Hollywood (specifically studios) will continue to release films and conduct business with the country in the future. (You can read the article here). Written by Dustin Lance Black, the writer of Milk and an outspoken gay representative of LGBT Americans, the article is passionate, clearly personal, and incredibly interesting, considering only last week The Hollywood Reporter's cover story was an excerpt from the new book, The Collaboration: Hollywood's Pact With Hitler. 

Written by Ben Urwand, The Collaboration reveals how Hollywood ultimately "cooperated" and "collaborated" with the Nazi's prior to World War II. And by cooperated and collaborated with Nazi's, I mean the gestapo force manipulated studio heads into changing scripts to depict the Nazi party in a positive light and remove elements implying the mistreatment of Jews. The Nazis basically told Hollywood that if they didn't change certain films (specifically All Quiet on the Western Front), Germany would refuse to screen and distribute them. 

Back to Putin. 

In June of this year, Putin signed a law that would allow the Russian police to arrest tourists and foreign nationals they suspect of being homosexual, lesbian, or "pro-gay" and detain them for up to 14 days. Nazi flashback anyone?

He also signed a bill classifying "homosexual propaganda" as pornography, meaning that anyone who condones homosexuality in any form will be persecuted. It also means that anyone who does not publicly denounce homosexuality could also face punishment. 

In July, Putin banned the adoption of Russian-born children to any homosexual couples or single parents living in any country where marriage equality exists in any form. 

Dustin Lance Black's article in THR specifically asks Hollywood, What will you do to help? Hollywood has a great power over international influence. Hitler knew this; he was obsessed with the propaganda power of film, that's why the Nazis were so "collaborative" with the industry prior to World War II. 

Could society finally realize that sometimes saying nothing, turning a blind eye, is just as bad if not worse than condoning such a profound level of hate?

I generally hate everything about Texas. It's a completely biased opinion of a state I've never been to, so I know how bullheaded and one-dimensional I sound when I say that, but I do. I really hate Texas. Why? If you're driving through Texas and a little piggy stops you in his cowboy done-up Crown Victoria, you're stuck in Texas until you sort it out. A friend of mine was once strip searched at a gas station because a cop found half of a moldy weed brownie in her van. Cops alone are reason enough for me to stay away. But other reasons? I'm not white. It behooves me to steer clear of any situation where I could potentially be discriminated against because of my ethnicity. Technically, on standardized forms and surveys, I'm considered "White" because "Middle Eastern" isn't an option, but my skin is a little more olivey and my eyes are rounder and darker than most crackers wandering through the "go big or go home" state. So I watch my back. When I have to. Which means, don't go to Texas. 

But Austin, the state's capital and home of the Austin Psyche Fest (arguably the best music festival in the country) and SXSW (a smorgasbord of bands and promoters fronting as a film festival that spans two weeks), is famous for its music scene (think 13th Floor Elevators, Daniel Johnston, Spoon, the Black Angels, Explosions in the Sky). 

The Strange Boys is another gem of a band from the capital of a state that I unabashedly despise for no reason.

The Strange Boys was formed in 2001 by then 8th graders Ryan Sambol and Matt Hammer, and was originally a duo punk band with Sambol on guitar and Hammer on drums. In 2003, Sambol's brother Philip joined the band on bass, and their sound slowly began to evolve into what they would later be famous for. Greg Enlow joined the band in 2004, first on percussion and organ, and then later on guitar. With the four members finally molding into a vibe, the band released their first EP Nothing in  2007 on Dusty Medical Records, an obscure record label based in Milwaukee, WI that also reps Black Lips. The EP only had four tracks on it, but got the attention of Larry Hardy, founder and mastermind behind independent LA record label In The Red Records. Hardy originally wanted the Strange Boys to record their debut album with the late great Jay Reatard. But when the product wasn't to either of their likings, Hardy sent the Strange Boys back to Texas (shudder) to work with record producer Orville Neeley. After two years of working on multiple sessions, the Strange Boys finally released their first full length album, The Strange Boys and Girls Club, (read the review here).

"Heard You Want to Beat Me Up"

For the next year or so, the Strange Boys toured, and finally put their Texas feet on European soil, where they caught the attention of Geoff Travis, founder and head of Rough Trade Records. Travis was so enamored by the Strange Boys that he made a deal with Hardy that would ultimately split their next album release under Rough Trade in Europe and In The Red in the US. But before that happened, the Strange Boys would change their lineup. Matt Hammer, founding member and original drummer, left the band, for reasons I can't find on the Internets. He was replaced by Seth Densham (of the mediocre Mika Miko). Hardy sent the Strange Boys down to Costa Mesa to Mike McHugh's Distillery (RIP). I've met Mike McHugh. He's quite possibly the most insane person I've ever had the pleasure of talking to. The Allah Las, the Growlers, Tomorrow's Tulips, and Nick Waterhouse have all recorded in the Distillery, an analog only recording studio. McHugh is a genius, and I'm sure that's why Hardy sent the boys his way.

For the sessions that would result in their second full length album, The Strange Boys brought on Jenna Thornhill-DeWitt (also from Mika Miko) on saxophone and backing vocals, and Tim Presley (of Darker My Love and the post Strange Boys phenomenon White Fence). The finished product, Be Brave, was released on both UK and US labels in February 2010 (read the review here). Trivia: the title track from the LP was used in a 2012 Dell Commercial.

"Be Brave"

Critics thought Be Brave was less cohesive than Boys and Girls Club, specifically with the absence of Hammer's drumming. After the Be Brave sessions and the completion of the album, drummer Seth Densham left the band and was replaced by Mike La Franchi. Whether this happened as a result of negative criticism or not, the Strange Boys were used to the musical chairs of their lineup, and geared right up for their third album. During this point, Jenna (the only girl) and her saxophone also left the band. 

The Strange Boys final album, recorded in 2011 at the home studio of Spoon's Jim Eno. Titled Live Music (pronounced like give), the album received less success than the previous two, with critics noting that their original "strange" garage rock sound was waning (read the review here). Live Music was released in October of 2011, and would be their last studio album to date. 

The Strange Boys are one of those bands that come around and disappear before you can even really sink your teeth into their juicy meat. It's a shame they don't tour anymore. I'd love to see them play in a warehouse downtown stuffed with underage debauchery. Maybe they will someday. 

The end. 

Last night, I had my first solo DJ experience, which means I was standing behind the turntables ALL BY MYSELF for four hours. Straight. Without breaks. Except for running back and forth to the bathroom to take a quick piss, and sneaking cigarette drags from strangers outside. When spinning vinyl, all vinyl, it's nearly impossible to leave the records spinning to their own devices. What happens if a song skips and you're not there? Or the sound is too low? Or the song ends sooner than you thought it would? So last night was a fun experience for me, and definitely made me feel like a real DJ. 

Here's my playlist from last night, though I'm sure I'm missing a song or two, and in no order, because let's face it, I was drinking last night, and went to sleep at 3am, so the flow's a little off.
(Click on the song titles)

• The 13th Floor Elevators - You're Gonna Miss Me
• Townes Van Zandt - Black Jack Mama
• The Troggs - I Just Sing
• Ten Years After - 50,000 Miles Beneath My Brain 
• Gap Dream - 58th Street Fingers 
• MC5 - Looking At You
  
• The Animals - Inside Looking Out
• Black Sabbath - After Forever
• Spanish Moss - Fuzz Puzzle
• Graveyard - Blue Soul 
• Fuzz - This Time I Got A Reason
• The Strange Boys - To Turn A Tune Or Two
• Witch ('90s stoner metal) - Seer
• The Rolling Stones - I'm A King Bee 
• The Entrance Band - A House Is Not A Motel
• Witch ('70s Zambia psych) - Strange Dream
• Moby Grape - Apocalypse 
• Spacin' - Empty Minds
• King Tuff - Sun Medallion 
• Spooky Tooth - Evil Woman 
• The Monkees - Porpoise Song
• The Growlers - Swallowed Whole
• The Blue Rondos - Little Baby
• Speed, Glue & Shinki - Red Doll 
• Black Sabbath - Wizard
• Fuzz - Sleigh Ride
• Graham Parsons - Oh, Didn't They Crucify My Lord
• Ten Years After - Two Time Mama 
• Elvis Presley - That's All Right
  
• Bracey Everett - The Lover's Curse 
• The Abigails - Black Hell
  
• Canned Heat - London Blues
• The Beatles - Old Brown Shoe 
• Terry Reid - Dean 
• Donovan - Get Thy Bearings 
• Neil Young - Revolution Blues
• Jimi Hendrix - I Don't Live Today
• Townes Van Zandt - Hunger Child Blues  
• Fleetwood Mac - Drifting
• Bob Dylan - Lily Of The West
• Led Zeppelin - You Shook Me
• Nancy and Lee - Some Velvet Morning
• The Druids of Stonehenge - A Garden Where Nothing Grows
• J.J. Cale - Crazy Mama
• Flying Burrito Brothers - Older Guys 
• Free - Mr. Big
• Bert Jansch - Poison 
• Donovan - Superlungs (My Supergirl)
• The Byrds - Thoughts and Words
• Creedence Clearwater Revival - Effigy

I love to read. Well, I should clarify that. I love books. I collect first editions and rare hard cover editions of any book I can get my hands on. I love the way books smell, like vanilla and cigars. I love the way their spines crack with wear and age and finally gives, like a perfectly worn leather jacket. I love the way they look in my house, stacked in haphazard piles on any available surface area. The saying goes, "don't judge a book by it's cover," but I definitely buy books based on their covers. I buy books for aesthetic value, and then grow to love them through their content. 

I keep my rare first editions on the top shelf of a built-in nook in the kitchen. I've got a first edition of J.D. Salinger's Raise High the Roof Beam, Carpenters; a first edition of Truman Capote's Thanksgiving Visitor (the best present I've ever received by the best boyfriend I ever had); a very rare edition of Voltaire's Candide illustrated by Paul Klee that my father gave me for Christmas one year; and a first edition of Ernest Hemingway's The Old Man and the Sea, which I found at Logos Books and Records in Santa Cruz for nine fucking dollars. 

Okay, so I also like to read my pretty books every once in a while. I have a really bad habit of picking out a random book from my library and reading it halfway through and then putting it down, either bored by the narrative, or distracted by another story that just begs me to read it right then and there. I'm working on this habit. It's a work in progress. But about a month ago, I somehow managed to get myself engaged in four different books, reading them all intermittently at the same time. 

Here's my list.

1. Armed Love, by Elia Katz. Armed Love is a nonfiction narrative account of Elia's experience living on communes across the country. He starts out in New York City in 1971, broke and hungry for adventures, and ends his journey in California. Katz's writing is sophisticated yet dry, very to the point, and he rambles in a way that makes the reader believe the book was meant for them and their eyes alone. The book is a glimpse into the life of a young male traveling across America in search of meaning, but the storytelling is smooth, like a diary, told through anecdotes of commune life and the instability of the decade. Katz makes little references to the politics of the time, except in his description of authority. In one scene, he recounts time spent in a New York City jail. Wearing purple flared bell bottoms, a pink blouse, and his hair curly and long, looking like a hipster, he accompanies a friend to the courthouse, forgetting the buck knife concealed in his pocket. Once the knife is discovered by guards, Katz is detained and booked on charges of concealing a deadly weapon. The book is fascinating, and reads like a stream of thought. 

2. This is How You Lose Her, by Junot Diaz. This is How You Lose Her is a collection of short stories about (mainly) Junior, Diaz's alter ego if you will, and the women he cheats on. It's almost a man's guide to losing women, or a women's guide to avoiding men like Junior. The stories are all beautifully told, heartbreaking, both funny and sad. Diaz writes in a very masculine way, using curse words in almost every sentence, and talks about pussy like homeboy from the corner near McArthur Park. Some of the stories are written in second person, where Junior almost speaks to himself. "It was 1985. You were sixteen years old and you were messed up and alone like a motherfucker." (Check out an excerpt on The New Yorker). But the best part about this book is how easy it is to read. Diaz is a celebrated writer; he won the Pulitzer in 2007 for The Brief and Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao. He teaches creative writing at MIT. But Junot Diaz isn't Faulkner. He isn't Hemingway. He's not even Jonathan Franzen. His writing is loose, experimental, and sometimes uneven. Half of the words in any given story are in Spanish. But the reason he's famous, the reason he's won a fucking Pulitzer, the reason he teaches at a University like MIT, is because he owns his style. I admire that, above anything else. 

3. The White Album, by Joan Didion. The White Album is a collection of essays about Didion's life in the '60s, mainly taking place in Los Angeles. These essays were originally published in magazines and collected as a whole in 1979. Didion writes about Los Angeles and her involvement in the "scene," describing a night when she was in The Door's recording studio when Jim Morrison stumbled in and proceeded to sing incoherently to himself while the rest of the band ignored him and ate sandwiches. She describes John and Michelle Phillips in a stretch limo on their way to the hospital to give birth. And then there's Linda Kasabian, the key witness in the Manson murder trials. Didion describes interviewing her, buying her a nice dress to wear to court the day she gave her testimony, and then later in life meeting her in Cony Island with her daughter. Didion describes Los Angeles in its bleakest form, yet makes you yearn for the absolute desolation of the city of lost angels. Although the essays move through Los Angeles to San Francisco and the Black Panthers to bishop James Pike and then to Georgia O'Keeffe, her writing, just like Diaz's, is entirely her own. Her voice booms from the pages, as if she were telling you her stories face to face. 

4. Beloved, by Toni Morrison. Morrison is one of the most prolific writers of our generation. She won the Pulitzer for Beloved in 1988, and was awarded the Nobel Prize in Fiction in 1993. I've read almost every book she's ever written: Sula, Tar Baby, The Bluest Eye, Songs of Solomon. Not to generalize her work into the African American literature genre, but she mainly writes about the struggles of blacks in America. Her writing style is beyond impressive; she can change tense, voice, perspective, and structure in one novel so seamlessly you don't even realize it at first. In Beloved, she starts out in third person, moves into third person omniscient, then into first person, then into poetry, then free form, then back into third person. She changes tense from past to present within one sentence. She breaks all the rules of traditional fiction writing. All of them. Beloved is about three generations of women (grandmother, mother, daughter) living in a haunted house in Cincinnati, Ohio, in the 1860s. Without ruining any plot lines, the story centers around Sethe (mother) and Denver (daughter) and an unexpected mysterious guest, Beloved, who turns their lives upside down. The story is also about love, and how it can consume you, and alter your conscious, change your decisions, and affect every aspect of life. "Love is or it ain't. Thin love ain't love at all." 

I hope to finish all of these books by the end of the week. 

The end. 
 

More from "The Whole World Is Gay"
(I thought I'd post the videos first so you can read about the band while you listen)

• The Fall - "In My Area"  

The Fall is an English post-punk band that formed in 1976 by Mark E. Smith, it's only constant member. Emerging during the overwhelming punk movement that blew up in the UK in the '70s, The Fall's sound has continuously evolved through numerous stylistic changes, mainly as a result of the ever changing lineup of band members. Although The Fall never fully reached commercial success, as of 2013, the band has released thirty studio albums and "more than triple that counting live albums and other releases" (Wiki). 

The Fall's music is characterized by "repetition, an abrasive guitar-driven sound, and is always underpinned by Smith's often cryptic lyrics" (Wiki). 

• Grupo 606 - "En el Valven" 

There isn't much information about Grupo 606 on the Internets in English, so if you read Spanish, knock yourself out. 

•  Jody Reynolds - "Fire of Love" 

Jody Reynolds was born in 1932 in Denver, Colorado and was raised in Shady Grove, Oklahoma. He was raised on country music and would come to idolize Western swing acts like Bob Wills and Hank Thompson. But when he heard Elvis (who would later become his friend) and Carl Perkins on the radio, playing their rockabilly sound, he began emulating them. He formed the band The Storms in the early '50s and wrote his most famous song "Endless Sleep" in 1956 after supposedly hearing "Heartbreak Hotel" on a jukebox. "Endless Sleep" would be his only hit, peaking at #5 on Billboard, and would be the start of a trend of "teen tragedy tales" that would continue on through the '60s. "Fire of Love" was his follow up single but only reached #66 on the charts. 

• The Troggs - "I Can't Control Myself"

The Troggs were an English band from the 60s who were signed by Larry Page, the manager of the Kinks. They're the guys who did "Wild Thing" and "With A Girl Like You." I really love The Troggs, and consider them one of the more overlooked garage bands from that era. When "I Can't Control Myself" was originally released, US radio stations curtailed its airplay because of its "suggestive" lyrics. And the scream at the beginning of the song was taken as an orgasm. Listen for yourself. 

• The Western Front - "Looking Back At Me"

I knew there was something familiar about the voice on this track. The Western Front is an American band from Portland, OR, formed in 1985 by Fred Cole (that's right, DEAD MOON), Kevin Conner, and Jeff Evans (notice how all these guys have last names that are also first names - yes I'm very observant). Although Cole's other bands (The Lollipop Shoppe, The Range Rats, Dead Moon, and Pierced Arrows) are all influenced by punk, Western Front has a more country vibe to it, which makes the sound almost timeless. The band only ever released three singles (which I'm sure are rare beyond belief) and then disbanded in 1986 so Cole could form The Range Rats with his badass wife Toddy. 

• Los Rollings - "No Tienes Mi Querer"

Los Rollings are another latin psychedelic band that I can't find any information on. I'm assuming they're from the '60s because of their sound, but can't be positive about that. This song is really amazing though. 

• Benny Joy - "Nowhere" 

Benny Joy was born in Atlanta, Georgia, in 1935. Considered a rockabilly artist, Joy wrote and recorded his own compositions in a time when rockabilly was forming as an alternative to folky traditional songs. 

I couldn't find a video of "Nowhere" on YouTube, but you can listen on his MySpace page (yes MySpace still exists) by clicking here. 

• Jack Starr - "My Love For You Is Petrified" 

Jack Starr is another one of those "outsider" musician (remember Peter Grudzien from Side A). Starr was a Dallas-based teenage rockabilly hermit from the '50s and early '60s. According to his last.fm page, all of Starr's tracks were "homemade, a few notably recorded in his mother's bathtub to acquire the right level of echo." I love bathtubs. I love men in bathtubs. Totally fits. 

• Leonard Cohen - "Tonight We'll Be Fine"

Hopefully you already know everything there is to know about Leonard Cohen, but in case you don't, here's a quite recap. Leonard Cohen, born in 1934, is a Canadian singer/songwriter, musician, poet, and novelist. Cohen continues to tour every year, and lives in Miracle Mile (that's right, I've met him a couple times).

•  Black Ace - "Farther Along" 

Not a lot of information on Black Ace besides him being a steel guitar player / gospel singer from either the '20s or '30s. You can listen to "Farther Along" here. 

The End. 

I was five years old. Maybe six. It was the warmest day of the summer on Berkeley Avenue. We had just moved into the neighborhood following a brief year long stint in the apartment buildings outside the University of Pennsylvania campus, the exact amount of time my mother needed to realize West Philadelphia wasn't meant for infants. Not her infants anyway. 

My dad had found a four story twin house through connections at the University's housing program, where my brother and I were born. Now a four story twin house in a blue-collar middle-class neighborhood didn't mean anything besides cheap rent for a young family. My dad had somehow finagled a deal that allowed them to rent month-to-month, just in case, my mom said. Just in case there was something better. But dad grew to love the house. He rebuilt the deck in the backyard two-by-four at a time, on his hands in knees, through the humid summer that hung on you like a wet mop. 

The deck was our favorite place to hide, our favorite place about the house. I barely remember it now, but it was raised above the yard, off the first floor, and shaped a concave barrier beneath that led to the basement. Mom kept a key under a mat on the deck. Right outside the kitchen door. School got out early that day, and our mother had forgotten to pick us up. I barely remember this. My brother was furious. He started walking home and I had no choice but to follow him. He knew where the key was. It was right under the mat outside the kitchen door. 

It wasn't. The door was locked. No key. It had started to rain on our walk. I hid under the awning of the porch and collected droplets on my tongue. Adam didn't like to wait. He paced back and forth on the deck, my dad's new deck, kicked at the beams. Stupid fucking key. And before I realized what the sound even was, I looked over. Adam's skinny fist through one of the glass panes of the window on the kitchen door. 

I remember the sound the glass made when it shattered, sharp and piercing, louder than I thought it would be, like metal on concrete. I remember the color of my brother's blood as it dripped down around the glass and over the white paint like congealed pomegranate juice, thick and syrupy, with warm tones of purple. 

Adam unlocked the door through the broken glass, kicked it open, walked into the kitchen and smeared the back of his hand on the Kenmore. I don’t remember why. My mother spent hours scrubbing the refrigerator, but to me it would always be red.

As promised, the list of songs on "The Whole World is Gay" mixtape I've been ranting about for the last couple posts. 

Side A:

• The Modern Lovers - "The Sweeping Wind" 

The Modern Lovers is a band led by Jonathan Richman (if you don't know who that is look him up right now), with Ernie Brooks, David Robinson (of The Cars), and Jerry Harrison (of Talking Heads). They only existed as a band from 1970 - 1974, and only ever made one album, the eponymous The Modern Lovers, so they're kind of a cult phenomenon. And they're amazing. 

"The Sweeping Wind"

• Ola Belle Reed - "You Lead Me To The Wrong"

Ola Belle Reed was born in 1916 in Lansing, North Carolina. Lansing celebrates her music and life by hosting an annual Ola Belle Music Festival. Ola Belle has this Karen Dalton thing going on, but also very Lead Belly (minus the black man aspect) because of the time period. 

As mentioned before, I can't post "You Led Me To The Wrong" on my blog for some reason, but you can listen here. 

• Roger Miller - "My Uncle Used to Love Me But She Died"

 Roger Miller "is best known for his humorous novelty songs, which overshadow his considerable songwriting talents as well as his hardcore honky tonk roots." (stole that quote from the Internets, but it's pretty good, huh.) He's the guy who wrote and sang "King of the Road." His songs are all amazing, super silly, and perfect dance tunes. Guaranteed to put a smile on your face.

"My Uncle Used to Love Me But She Died"

 

• Peter Grudzien - "The Unicorn"

Peter Grudzien is considered an American country/psychedelic singer/songwriter, commercial artist, photographer, and recording engineer. According to Wiki, his music is considered "outsider music" which is ironic considering he was a commercial artist, but hey, I wont judge. Grudzien was heavily influenced by Hank Williams and Bob Dylan. Only 500 copies of his album The Unicorn, released in 1974, were ever pressed. 

"The Unicorn"

• The Red Krayola - "Transparent Radiation"

The Red Krayola was a psychedelic experimental rock band from Houston, Texas, that formed in 1966 under International Artists, the same record label as 13th Floor Elevators (Roky sang on some of their songs, so they were obviously buddies). The band made "noise rock" and experimented with folk and psychedelic instruments in a way that would later influence the lo-fi aesthetic of 1990s indie bands. 

The version on "The Whole World Is Gay" is the demo, sung playfully but with complete sincerity by lead singer Mayo Thompson. It reminds me of Lou Reed in early Velvet Underground, especially when Mayo laughs. 

"Transparent Radiation" (demo)

The album version is much different. 

"Transparent Radiation"

• Rodriguez - "Hate Street Dialogue"

Sixto Rodriguez is a genius. Please listen to him. There's even a documentary about him, Searching for Sugar Man. Rodriguez began playing music and recording in 1967 in Detroit, Michigan. But by 1975, after the dismal record sales from his albums Cold Fact and Coming From Reality, he was dropped from record label Sussex. Watch the documentary. This song was written by the producers and session guitarist of Cold Fact, but it's still amazing. Sixto makes it his own.

"Hate Street Dialogue"

• Lee Hazelwood - "Poor Man"

Lee is possibly the most underrated singer/songwriter that ever lived. Finding fame beneath the shadows of his longtime partner/musical collaborator Nancy Sinatra, Lee was never fully appreciated for his genius. His sound is often described as cowboy psychedelic, and if you listen to him, you'll understand exactly why. He sings about love and loss, like most songwriters do, but his baritone voice makes your bones shake with empathy. 

"I'm just a poor man with a heart full of love - for you." 

I can't post the video on my blog, fuck you YouTube, but you can listen here.

• Holly Golightly - "Sent" 

Holly Golightly (yes she was named after Breakfast at Tiffany's) is a contemporary British singer/songwriter who's sometimes a little country, sometimes a little folky, and sometimes a little garage-rock bluesy. I generally listen to older music, but she's kind of a gem, along the same road as Mazzy Star. 

"Sent"

• Michael Hurley - "Wildigeeses" 

Michael Hurley is another one of those wonderful musicians who just couldn't get enough attention while he was in his prime. Hurley was raised in Bucks County, Pennsylvania, in 1941. His first album, First Songs, was recorded on the same reel-to-reel machine that taped Lead Belly's album, Last Sessions. Considered an American folk singer/songwriter/guitarist, the more obscure my research into music gets, the more I see his beautiful name. 

"Wildigeeses"

The end. 

Side B tomorrow.