I’VE GOT A HOLE IN MY SOUL : BEYONDADOUBT BOBBY “BLUE” BLAND, RIP 23 JUNE 2013
Bobby Blue Bland was one of the great great great voices to come out of Memphis, Tennessee. My favorite quote from his interview with my friend Andria Lisle for Mojo Magazine: “The things I did have staying power. There’s a certain way you say ‘baby.’ You don’t just say it – you have to make somebody feel it.”
My first introduction to Bobby Blue Bland was a high priced LP on the wall of a Memphis record store where I worked for several years. At $100 it was far out of my price range. When I moved to Portland years ago and helped open a new record shop on Mississippi Street, I found a copy of the original 1961 album “Two Steps From The Blues” in the dollar bin. It has since remained one of my favorite long-players of all time — beautiful and haunting. Bobby goes from blues to soul to big band without ever losing genuineness.
Last night, hearing of his death, I lit a candle & listened in the dark. Tonight I would recommend you do the same.
The first in our new rare vinyl feature with Beyondadoubt. Keep an eye out for new installations.
“I really sing songs that move me. I’m not in show business; I’m in the communications business. That’s what it’s about for me.”
On August 15th, 1969, Richie Havens opened Woodstock — birthplace of the sort of magic we have come to seek from music festivals. After three (yes three!) hours of performing, having been called back several times and having ran out of songs, Richie improvised a song based on the old gospel “Motherless Child.” His version, “Freedom,” instantly became — and remains 44 years later — a hymn for generations of people actively hoping and working to make our world a better place.
Although he was more of a discrete figure of the Village, Havens never gave up militantism through his humanist music, and his legacy of over 25 albums is often cited as a major influence for younger musicians.
Richie passed away at age 72 on Earth Day. Because we too are hopers, we like to think of this coincidence as one last message from the artist to us.
Mr. Means cut off his braids a few months before receiving his cancer diagnosis. It was, he said in an interview last October, a gesture of mourning for his people. In Lakota lore, he explained, the hair holds memories, and mourners often cut it to release those memories, and the people in them, to the spirit world.
Harry Savides — fearless, idiosyncratic and unflinchingly honest cinematographer — passed this week at 55. His work with Coppola, Allen, Van Sant and Fincher, to name a few, was indisputably the finest of his generation, and his was a painfully talented lens and heart we hate to lose.
Shots from Zodiac, Elephant, Greenberg and Somewhere.