Random Music Photos

[Unsomnambulist]

The members of Can circa 1972.

 

[Nickyboy]

Holger looks like he's the dad who came along to keep everyone in line.

 

[Ojai Sam]

 

[Unsomnambulist]

Kurt w/ Kim Deal.

 

[Unsomnambulist]

 

[Nickyboy]

I have questions:

 

[axolotl]

^ I do, too.

Are any of them related to color coordination of clothing?

 

[Unsomnambulist]

 

[axolotl]

^ Nick Mason?

 

[Unsomnambulist]

^ Nick Mason?

Yes, and some old lady.

 

[axolotl]

Yes, and some old lady.

Takes him out to look at the queen
Only place that he's ever been
Always shouts out something obscene
Such a dirty old man
Dirty old man

 

[Unsomnambulist]

 

[Ojai Sam]

 

[Unsomnambulist]

 

[axolotl]

1:30 in the afternoon. Tuesday, September 23, 1952. Castle Studio in Nashville. Don Helms was the only member of the Drifting Cowboys present. Tommy Jackson was on fiddle, and a young Chet Atkins played electric guitar.

A tall, haggard, balding figure was the focus of attention. Though no one there could have known it, this would be his final recording session. Divorced from the wife who had pushed him into stardom, separated from his cherished son and stepdaughter, fired from the Grand Ole Opry, distrusted by booking agents, ravaged by addictions, anguished by physical pain and bitter memories, he was nearing the end of the line, his life and career at the breaking point.

But when he entered the studio, the tired, haunted, and harried man became Hank Williams, the masterful, incomparable artist. The recordings -- the timeless, exhilarating recordings -- cut that day would betray no hint of the storms that lay in wait just outside the building. There were four of them: "Kaw-Liga," co-written with mentor/producer Fred Rose. "I Could Never Be Ashamed of You," about soon-to-be second wife Billie Jean Jones. "Take These Chains From My Heart," composed by Rose and Hy Heath. And, greatest of all, "Your Cheatin' Heart," aimed squarely at Audrey and featuring what is perhaps Williams's most astonishing vocal performance.

By 3:40, just over a couple of hours after it had commenced, the work was done. Hank departed Nashville, never to return. He had only a few months of his short life left to live.

But the songs, they would never die.

 

[Ojai Sam]

View attachment 8507

1:30 in the afternoon. Tuesday, September 23, 1952. Castle Studio in Nashville. Don Helms was the only member of the Drifting Cowboys present. Tommy Jackson was on fiddle, and a young Chet Atkins played electric guitar.

A tall, haggard, balding figure was the focus of attention. Though no one there could have known it, this would be his final recording session. Divorced from the wife who had pushed him into stardom, separated from his cherished son and stepdaughter, fired from the Grand Ole Opry, distrusted by booking agents, ravaged by addictions, anguished by physical pain and bitter memories, he was nearing the end of the line, his life and career at the breaking point.

But when he entered the studio, the tired, haunted, and harried man became Hank Williams, the masterful, incomparable artist. The recordings -- the timeless, exhilarating recordings -- cut that day would betray no hint of the storms that lay in wait just outside the building. There were four of them: "Kaw-Liga," co-written with mentor/producer Fred Rose. "I Could Never Be Ashamed of You," about soon-to-be second wife Billie Jean Jones. "Take These Chains From My Heart," composed by Rose and Hy Heath. And, greatest of all, "Your Cheatin' Heart," aimed squarely at Audrey and featuring what is perhaps Williams's most astonishing vocal performance.

By 3:40, just over a couple of hours after it had commenced, the work was done. Hank departed Nashville, never to return. He had only a few months of his short life left to live.

But the songs, they would never die.

 

[axolotl]

 

[Unsomnambulist]

If Freddie Mercury never died.

 

[Unsomnambulist]

 

[axolotl]

^

"If you're so hip to the groove, Son, why are you pulling the LP out of the album cover's left seam?"