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Mitch’s Monthly Mix: Insider Trading: A Tape for the Turn of the Year

Mitch promised us a mix tape and we were expecting a glossed sonnet — perhaps a track list with some notes — and he gave us an epic. We’ve linked or embedded copies of the songs here when possible, but to truly play along at home might involve some iTunes surfing. Make judicious use of that Read More link . . .

Insider Trading: A Tape for the Turn of the Year
Blendt by Mitch Ritter
Lay-Low Studios, Or-Wa

Step right up a new year is upon us and the purveyors of the Amurrikin Dream return from their Boxing Day weeklong hiatus tanned, rested and ready. Don’t get caught with your drawers down. I bring to you a harvest of the best, that is to say a survey of some of the most insightful illustrations of the illustrious dreamers and entrepreneurs that this golden land has ‘ere set loose upon the wild world. Our Anglo songbook is filled to the brim. Were I to include other tongues in this survey I might be inclined to begin with the rapscallion Greek bard Dimitris Zervoudakis, whose circa 1990s recording of a Rembetika revival contemporary ballad by Yakovos Mondanaris entitled “O Amerikanos (The American)” graced the uncommonly graceful Hemisphere compilation of Greece The Dance of Heaven’s Ghosts (EMI 1997). The “entrepreneurs,” or mangues as they be known in this native Ionian morality tale find themselves a recently disembarked American male tourist or, fish, to “guide.” Zervoudakis is quite canny at playing on American blues slide guitar the steel string delta blues that he would normally be playing strummed with feather risha’a on fretless modal oud or bouzouki were it not for this subject matter. As we learn “Amerikano” or Ameri-hano (hano is the dumbest fish in the seas) is in for a long night at the hands of these mangues. Fortunately, “Amerikano” winds up with a mint on his pillow albeit pockets and wallet lightened. Long may there be a tourist industry for the mangues to “guide.”

Most of the following recordings can be located on the internet [including by the copyeditor, who has found several of them on YouTube, although not always the same recording. -Jon]. Mitch’s Monthly Mix, blendt as it is at Lay Low Studios, Or-Wa, is attentive to the lyrical and musical flow from selection to selection. There can be no attempt at comprehensive coverage of any theme or subject under such constraints. Any resemblance to an alternative soundtrack for the revelatory 2010 whodunnit documentary Inside Job is purely coincidental. Hopefully some intuitive shivers will be passed along from bards, hosts and live audiences adding you the listener-maker at home to the feed-back loop of the cosmos. Please do try blending and recombining these strands of the Great Song DNA in the safety of your own home, and may we each have a home in the coming years. Running time is just shy of a blank CD: 79 minutes and a few spare seconds.

1) “Rainmaker” Peter Rowan, Dust Bowl Children (Peter Rowan-Gary Nicholson, 1990). As with most manifest destiny from Old Testament times forth, the chosen tribe isn’t quite allowed to sit back on the sofa to enjoy some Bon Bon™ manna. There is usually a quest to find the Land of Goshen or the Promised Land, as for reasons known only to our Maker, not only is the grass greener over there, but the All Powerful has chosen not to bring the rainfall over here. Peter Rowan and Gary Nicholson’s Hopi informed tale of the pale huckster on the plains ends with this cautionary clause in the Divine Agreement:

Sometimes I don’t know if it’s a blessing or a curse
Too little rain is not enough
And too much just makes things worse
Well the Good Lord promised me a miracle in this life
With only one condition
He said “Take your money, get out of town
Don’t try and start another religion”

2) “Trickle Down” Bruce CockburnYou’ve Never Seen Everything (2003). From colonial settler times the selling of a Promised Land to frontier families finds only a brief historical blip in which “interdependence” as official Washington governing policy interrupts the free-for-all grab bag of opportunistic protectionism seamlessly fading into Free Market fundamentalism. “Morning Again in America” the slogan of the Reagan-Bush Greenspan years introduced neo-liberal economics to a conservative nation rebounding from hippie-communal sloth. Also known as Voo-Doo Economics, the endless refrain has ever more been:

Trickle down, give ‘em the busines
Trickle down supposed to give us the goods
Cups held out to catch a bit of the bounty
Trickle down everywhere trickle down blood
What used to pass for education
Now looks more like ignoration
Take the people’s money and slip it to the corporation
Yellow rain golden shower pesticide firepower
Summon feudal demons of sweatshop subjugation
Workfare foul air homeless beggars everywhere
Picture-phone aristocrats lounge around the pool
Captains of industry smiling beneficently
Leaky hull supertanker ship of fools
Trickle down

Cockburn and crew punctuate this idiosyncratic lyrical meter with a wondrous world of percussion not a little inherited from the heritage of the slave ships that at one time brought the cheapest labor on earth over here. Nowadays, of course, our Captains of Nike send the work over to China for the next cheapest source of labor.

3) “Step Right Up” Tom Waits with Shelly Manne Trio, Small Change (1976). Boho beat revivalist preacher-poet-barfly Time Waits . . . The U.S. bi-centennial spirit brought out the best in so many of America’s most original troubadours (check the catalogues and tour schedules of Bob Dylan & the Rolling Thunder Revue, Laura Nyro and her Season of Lights, Roger McGuinn & ThunderByrd, Joni Mitchell’s Hejira back to her Canadian prairie roots, Leonard Cohen going off the deep end with Phil Spector’s Beverly Hills mansion gun collection issuing the Wall of Sound manifest as “Don’t Go Home With Your Hard-On”). Then there was Waits. Still resident at the Tropicana Motor Hotel in Hollywood with business cards citing his office at Winchell’s Donuts 12-6 AM. Notebooks brimming with Beat tinted carny barker de Tocqueville by way of Bukowski.

No muss, no fuss, no spills
You’re tired of kitchen drudgery
Everything must go
Going out of business, going out of business
Going out of business sale
50% off original retail price
Skip the middle man, don’t settle for less
How do we do it? How do we do it?
Volume, volume. Turn up the volume
Now you’ve heard it advertised, don’t hesitate
Don’t be caught with your drawers down.
No don’t be caught with your drawers down!

4) “Billion Dollar Loan Shark” Karen Young & Míchel Donato avec Eval Manigat Haitian Ensemble (1988). Quite timely in its time, but never more timely than the present time is this  collaboration of two of Quebec’s finest multi-lingual nu jazz artists working an interval as a duet and then joining forces with émigré Haitian artists Eval Manigat Ensemble. Their ground up deconstruction of the neo-liberal economic model, fancy that back then President Obama’s first Chief Economic Minder, er, Advisor would be the same Lawrence Summers who while still a wunderkind neo-liberal economic scholar at Harvard would have penned a “white paper” suggesting Haiti’s role in the new economic order should be as receptacle for energy sector, medical and military nuclear waste for the western world. After all, the island had plentiful polluted land and no other goods or services to offer the New World Order in Master Summers’ estimation. After a minor public relations flap in the late 80’s — when Karen Young & Míchel Donato with their Haitian collaborators would mount this production — Summers went on to share his neo-liberal view of the sexes while Dean of Harvard then moved further up the liberal institution chain next door to the White House, ostensibly to help repair the economic model he created. Yet this catchy Haitian-accented ditty takes on other neo-liberal institutions the IMF and World Bank with chanteuse Karen Young purring seductively if savagely:

I’m a billion dollar loan shark
And it’s time that you do your part
Come and be my pet
I’ll feed your national debt
While your children starve
I’m a billion dollar loan shark
When my golden days are numbered
And there’s little left to plunder
My God will lift me high
And history books will lie
To a generation younger
There will be billion dollar loan sharks
Billion dollar loan sharks
Billion dollar loan sharks
As my right arm flexes
And buildings tremble
My left hand writes
graffiti on the trembling walls

5) “Man of God” Eliza Gilkyson and her Austin Statesmen (2005). Perhaps the most eloquent of an underground (alas the Dixie Chicks had radio access and stadia of fans to lose) movement resisting the W. Bush-Cheney-Rummy-Rice blitz, Eliza Gilkyson nailed it right after the regime’s fair and square democratic re-election in ’04 with the chicken hawks defeating a dyed-in-the-New England-wool Viet Nam combat hero:

The cowboy came from out of the west
with his snakeskin boots and his bulletproof vest
Gang of goons and his big war chest
Fortunate son he was doubly blessed
Corporate cronies and the chiefs of staff
Bowing to the image of the Golden Calf
Starting up wars in the name of God’s son
Gonna blow us all the way to Kingdom Come
(chorus) Man of God, Man of God
That ain’t the teachings of a man of God
Man of God, Man of God
That ain’t the preachings of a Man of God
Jesus said blessed are the meek
Jesus said you gotta turn the other cheek
Jesus said help the poor and the weak
If he lived today he’d be a liberal freak
All the money changers would be out on the street
Weepin’ & wailin’ & gnashin’ their teeth
Me, I’m waitin’ on the reckoning day
When the whole wide world gonna rise up and say

6) “Seminole Bingo” Warren Zevon & Carl Hiaasen, Mutineer (1995). While it’s tempting, as the 2010 documentary sleuth film Inside Job has in fact now done, to track the present international banking and financial crisis to the corrupt “insiders” heading and staffing the revolving doors between the most prestigious university schools of business and the major central banks and attendant national governments, the fact is most of the hustle impulse leads to tawdry affairs by men and women who look a lot different under their designer custom-tailored penguin suits. Zevon and the master of Miami pulp cum satirical sleaze, Carl Hiassen, were way ahead of the Securities Exchange Commission (SEC) and the Clinton-Gramm deregulated Bank Modernization Act in sketching this junk bond king who chooses an alternate method of money laundering to the best practices of a rehabilitated Michael Milken → jail term in Club Fed → Endowed Seat at UCLA → (optional endowment to the Holocaust Memorial fund):

I got my hands on the wheel, I got gas in the tank
I got a suitcase full of money from a Luxembourg bank
We didn’t stop ’til we got to Big Cypress
Wandered in to the Legion Hall
The sign outside said Seminole Bingo
Fell in love with the ping pong balls
And the SEC is far behind
Down in the swamp with the gators and flamingos
A long way from Liechtenstein
I’m a junk bond king playing Seminole Bingo.
All my Wall Street wiles don’t help me even slightly
’Cause I never have the numbers and I’m losing nightly
I cashed the last of my Triple B bonds
bought a doublewide on the Tamiami Trail
I parked it right outside the reservation
15 minutes from the Collier County Jail
And the SEC is far behind

7) “Sleepwalking” Al StewartSparks of Ancient Light (2008). Before Bernard Madoff made off with a few billion dollars harvested largely from an elite clientele, he was suspect, yet not quite a household name, much less a verb! Al Stewart, no stranger to a world of fast wealth and in proximity to his Bel Air neighbors, no doubt some of whom were to be found in the rolodexes of Madoff Ltd, decided to record a song looking less at the “entrepreneurs” set loose with the Ayn Rand cult of financial self-regulation, and focusing instead on the psychology that would facilitate the total trust and transfer of funds from a highly educated and sophisticated clientele to such an “entrepreneur.” Although when he toured through Portland, Oregon filling the Aladdin Theater to capacity plus with three talented accompanists and harmonists, in late 2008 he did not link “Sleepwalking” to the Madoff affair, the synchronicity was startling to this listener. Al Stewart’s emphasis is on the carefully manufactured dream and the dreamers who fuel the scam.

A boy has become a member of a most desired club
He has a fine address in the East 60s
If hip-ness could be diagrammed he would be the hub
Girls follow him around like sexy pixies
There’s talk among the money men in Miami Beach
The train is leaving you don’t want to miss it
Whatever it is he’s offering, it’s there within your reach
So here is the ring why don’t you kiss it?
They’re following a dream, following a dream . . . Sleepwalker

[Hm, try here -Jon]

8) & 9) “My Attorney Bernie” & “Blizzard of Lies” Dave & Samantha Frishberg, Classics (1982). A most appropriate medley from a frequent contributor to the Great American Songbook. While both of these scalpel-sharp mirth-makers are from the fish’s point-of-view, with choruses that serve as coy set-ups, the lyric lines will have universal appeal regardless of one’s litany of litigiosity.

I admire my attorney Bernie
I admire any guy who knows his stuff
Sure we blew a couple ventures
With counterfeit debentures
But you win a few, you lose a few
Like Bernie says, “You keep on hanging tough.”
Thanks to you, my attorney Bernie
Thanks to you I’m considered well-to-do
Sure I made out like a bandit
Just exactly like you planned it
But like Murray my accountant told me yesterday
I owe it all to you
Bernie tells me what to do
Bernie lays it on the line
Bernie says we sue, we sue
Bernie says we sign, we sign
On the dotted line . . .

No reason to spoil the fun dreamed up by the couple Frishberg. There may be some other couples set adrift reading Driftwood Magazine who regardless of latitude may at some point want to pipe in to the chorus: “Marooned, marooned, marooned in a blizzard of lies.”

The fun here is to collect every line whose veracity had you rolling your eyeballs well to the back of your skull, from airline reservationists to investment brokers to your in-laws, and then cut & paste the lyric.

10) & 11) “Flim Flam Man” & “Buy & Sell” Laura Nyro, First Songs (1966). No mistake on the copyright date. Laura Nyro was an old soul as a teenager, and these tunes were spotted for their extraordinary ageless insight by an ambitious young CBS Records mailroom clerk by the name of David Geffen. Nyro was a student at the Manhattan High School for the Performing Arts and rumored to be the muse for the Fugs’ “Slum Goddess.” Within a few years her songs would be a veritable New Brill Building of hits for such R&B and soul groups as the Fifth Dimension, Patti LaBelle and Ashford & Simpson. To hear the world this precocious teenager was seeing when she sat down at the piano to compose is to address a world of “negotiations and love songs” as Paul Simon later wrote, that are far from the clichéd turf of pop.

Hands off the man, the flim flam man
He’s the one in the Trojan horse
Making out like he’s Santa Claus
Oh, lord, the man’s a fraud
He’s a flim flam man
He’s a fox, a flim flam man
Everybody wants him, the people and the police
And all the pretty ladies disarm the beautiful gent
You know he has hardly a cent
He pays his monthly rent with daily charm.

which leads quite organically to the finest sung and composed opening
quatrain of any song these ears have heard:

Cocaine and quiet beers
Sweet candy and caramel
Pass the time and dry the tears
On a street called Buy & Sell.

[Hm, try here -Jon]

The emotional hammer hasn’t fallen yet and when it does you’ll need that opener to mellow the harsh, no matter how elegantly a teenage Laura Nyro channels our eternal market place, free or not so much.

12) & 13) “(audience request): Play Something for George W.” & “Casino Nation” Jackson Browne, Solo Acoustic (2006). From a spliced together set of acoustic solo performances Browne had recorded over the previous post 9-11-01 years, Browne fields an audible request shouted out to “Play something for George W.” with a brief introduction acknowledging the request and noting this song is not so much about the man acting as Decider in Chief, but rather a song “About the whole casino approach to living…a metaphor for what our public & private lives have become.” In that brief note Browne distinguishes himself from the rabid Tea Party and retail media mentality that routinely disassociates itself from “our” America and assumes no responsibility in its limitless quest for ever more freedom from responsibility. If there is a more elegantly written deeply developed metaphor than “Casino Nation” thatemerged from the cataclysmic Aughts I’ve yet to hear it:

In a weapons producing nation under Jesus
In the faded crucible of the free world
Camera crews search for clues amid the detritus
And entertainment shapes the land
the way the hammer shapes the hand
Gleaming faces in the checkout counter at the Church of Fame
The lucky winners cheer Casino Nation
All those not on TV only have themselves to blame
And don’t quite seem to understand
the way the hammer shapes the hand
Out beyond the Ethernet the spectrum spreads
DC to daylight, the cowboy mogul rides
Never worry where the gold for all this glory’s gonna come from
Get along little doggies, now it’s coming out of your hides
The international cultivation of a criminal class
The future lit by brightly burning bridges
Justice fully clothed to hide the heart of glass
That shatters in a thousand Ruby Ridges
And everywhere the good prepare for perpetual war
And let their weapons shape the plan
The way the hammer shapes the hand
The way the hammer shapes the hand.

14) “Gang of Thieves” State Radio, Year Of The Crow (2007). From Maine grunge punkers played and sung loud enough for the Bushes of Kennebunkport to feel the balls against the wall:

It was a rough night turned into years in an unknown land
Just a grudge fight cooked up by the DC suits on hand
We had a hard time but we tried to understand
These born-again gunpoint libertines
Then they sold us down the face of the mighty river
Sold turpentine for tea
Hold me now it’s the evil liberator
And he’s coming with a gang of thieves
In the firelight of the torched out refineries
He sat upright, the poster boy for the I.M.C.
A poor man fights and dies for what a rich man only believes
Sure as a blind man does not see the floor
No battleship too big for the War Emporium
It’s ‘Give it all you’ve got son and go back to where you’re from”
Cause we’re hiding in the wings
We’re the super neo-cons
We got bombs and they got barrels of gasoline

15) “I’m Changing My Name To Chrysler” (Tom Paxton, 1981) Arlo Guthrie & Shenandoah, Precious Friend with Pete Seeger Live Summer 1981 Concord Pavilion, CA. Virtually no need to tweak any lyric except for the name of the CEO to transport this Tom Paxton by way of Arlo & Shenandoah concert staple from the year of its birth at the dawning of Reagan-Bush’s Morning In America of 1980 to “This sucker’s going down” waning days of the Bush-Cheney Revolution. When it comes to bailing out corporations too big to fail it does indeed become a “Liberal education” as songwriter Paxton and Arlo wryly note.

I am changing my name to Chrysler
I am headed for the Great Receiving Line
So when they hand a million grand out
I’ll be standing with my hand out
Yes sir, I’ll get mine
If you’re a corporate Titanic
And your failure is gigantic
Down in congress there’s a safety net for you
It’s not just remuneration
It’s a liberal education
Ain’t you kinda glad that
I’m in debt to you?

16) & 17) “Steely Dan Chat with Marian McPartland on NPR’s Piano Jazz on elasticity of blues and Wall Street’s thrills & chills during a summer night visit 7/23/2002” followed by Marian McPartland sitting in on “Black Friday” (1974). Nothing more surreal than tuning in normally staid public radio to hear the matronly tones of jazz piano great Marian McPartland gabbing away with the deviant if musically domesticated duo of Donald Fagen and Walter Becker a.k.a. Steely Dan. As the discussion turned from the elasticity of the blues and to the closing number chosen by the boys, a tip of their portfolios to the extended post-9-11 Wall Street dips of the Bush-Cheney-Rummy-Condi years, Ms. McPartland was invited to roll her piano over to the Dan Combo and join in on their 1974 take on the 1929 Stock Market Crash:

When Black Friday comes
I’ll stand down by the door
And catch the grey men when they
Dive from the fourteenth floor.

[Editor’s note: NPR archives this audio, of course, but when I went to the link, it looked like a mess. This might be very tough to find, so try here for the original recording of Black Friday.]

18) “Vegematic” Steve Goodman, Affordable Art (1983). Forever linked to the period of time when Steve Goodman was thought to have chosen an odd hairstyle with which to tear up folk clubs coast to coast and the posthumous revelation from friends like John Prine who were sworn to secrecy that in fact among his close circle of friends, Goodman’s many years’ long fight with cancer had earned him the nickname “Cool Hand Leuk.” This live recording first issued on Goodman’s own family LP label Red Pajamas Records and only in 1988 as a CD contains a number of Live tracks to tear up a Cubs fan or just a loser who identifies and can share the cosmic joke on oneself. But also a wonderful time capsule song of pre-internet commerce where the consumer nevertheless has to grapple with the credit card possibilities for impulse telephone ordering, especially if one dozes with late night tv on.

Fell asleep last night with the TV on
Oh, what a dream I had
I dreamed I answered every single one of those late night mail order ads
And four to six weeks later, much to my surprise,
The mailman came to my front door, and I couldn’t believe my eyes
When he brought the Vegematic, and the Pocket Fisherman too
Illuminated illustrated history of life
And Boxcar Willie with a Ginzu knife
A bamboo steamer, and a Garden Weasel too
And a tie-dyed, day-glow souvenir shirt from Six Flags Over Burbank

The doorbell rang all morning and into the afternoon
I shook with fright as it rang all night
To the light of the Master Card moon
There was Parcel Post in the pantry, and UPS in the hall
C O D’s to the ceiling, and I just couldn’t pay for it all.

19) “Pie In The Sky” Willie Dixon with Zorah Young & the Lights & The Chicago Blues All Stars (1984). From the year that George Orwell chose as his nationally anesthetized mind control-as-policy setting, although still prescient by a few years, the Godfather of Rock as Willie Dixon’s songwriting and session credits at Chicago’s Chess Records (Muddy Waters, Howlin’ Wolf, Chuck Berry, Etta James, Koko Taylor) illustrates was drawing a bead on tele-evangelism. If being the wrong color even if churched could get you killed playing the Bible Belt, imagine what singing these words would bring down, even if sung by a lion of Chicago Blues in a voice that belongs beside Isaiah’s and Zorah Mae Young’s Lights adding a chorus that wouldn’t be Greek to a Greek:

Hey (hey, hey, hey) You better hear what I say
You better have your fun (have your fun)
Before you’ll get away
Get you a stray or get you a gay
Get you a man or a woman
But have it your way
I’ll tell you why (tell you why)
It could be a lie
May not be no Pie Up In The Sky When You’ll Die
Hey (hey, hey, hey) A lot of crooks are gone
A lot of politicians
And even (Rev.) Jimmy Jones (Jimmy Jones)
If they get to heaven before you do
It may not be nothin’ left for you
I’ll tell you why (tell you why)
It could be a lie
May not be no Pie Up In The Sky When You’ll Die
How do you know the streets are paved with gold?
No one come back to prove it, so
If they got a lotta gold with the angels and wings
By the time you get there
It may not be a thing
Now, hey (hey, hey, hey)
\You don’t know if it’s true
Better treat me (better treat me) like I treat you
You say you’re going to heaven
It looks like hell
They put you in a hole, deep as a well
I’ll tell you why (tell you why)
May Not Be No Pie Up In The Sky When You Die.

[I couldn’t find this one anywhere, folks, so if you know where it is, let us know in the comments. -Jon]

20) “Brother, Can You Spare A Dime?” (Yip Harburg & Jay Gorney) Abbey Lincoln Quintet (1991). No better reading with gutbucket grace notes than this masterpiece by Abbey Lincoln, regrettably not heeded by the young new President Bill Clinton and his go-go entrepreneurial team of neo-liberal economists and Free Market Fundamentalists as well as cabinet level lobbyists for dictators such as Haiti’s Baby Doc Duvalier.

[Youtube=”http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cXeE0yBd-Bg”%5D

21) “A Dime Away From A Hot Dog” Oscar Brown, Jr. (1972). The relentless march forward of American worker productivity while real wages for said workers slid further and further behind leads invariably back to this under-sung R&B masterpiece from the twilight of the great Atlantic Records, a time when the gargantuan Led Zeppelin stadium rock tail was wagging the great Ertegun-Wexler musical brain trust. This could be an anthem for 2011 as it has been since the financial collapse of 2008. Listen to this tight vintage Atlantic arrangement and the master jazz adapting lyricist & vocalist of the 1950’s and 60’s dealing with a “correction to the markets”:

Can I get a dime?
A Dime away from a hot dog
Two bucks away from a bed
All sorts of funky pictures
Runnin’ around in my head
A picture of me rollin’ in dough
A picture of me lettin’ it blow
A picture of all the people I owe
Wantin’ to know where did he go? Where did he go?
A dime away from a hot dog
Two bucks away from a bed
I turn to people and tell them
How bad I’m hurtin’ for bread
But then when I try makin’ a touch
Nobody comes through in the clutch
Ol’ crippled crab can’t get him a crutch
Cause people are such . . . ain’t helpin’ you much, No!
A dime away from a hot dog
Two bucks away from a bed
Walkin’ around trying to figure
How to get out of the red
The President said “Don’t feel depressed” Ah
But if his car had been repossessed
And mean ol’ sheriff came after the rest
He would have guessed
Why I’d be left with
A dime away from a hot dog
Two bucks away from a bed

[Hm, try here -Jon]

And President Obama along with his new Wall Street revolving door economic minders, er, advisors should know that no dime is buying any meat by-product hot dog, nor can any bug-infested bed be had for two bucks a night this year.

—Mitch Ritter
A Lay Low Studios, Or-Wa blend especially for Driftwood Magazine & Salty Captain Jack!

[Edit: Mitch was able to dig up some more links to the exact recordings he used:

 

Piano Jazz on NPR available on CD from Jazz Alliance.  Here’s a review of the
Steely Dan 7/23/2002 CD of the radio show with Steely Dan and Used CD on
Amazon.com
Karen Young & Michel Donato in Canadian Encyclopedia & Amazon.com Used CD
Willie Dixon’s CD in 1984 Mighty Earthquake & Hurricane issued on Chase Music
Group and a PO Box in Glendale, CA and reissued in 1994 when T-Bone Burnett
produced the final Willie Dixon album, he had lost a leg to diabetes and T-Bone
wanted one more treasure for us. Found on Amazon.com for collector’s price:
Dave Frishberg Trio, Classics
“A Dime Awary From A Hot Dog” on Collector’s Choice reissue of ’72 Atlantic
album title is Movin’ On

 

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One comment on “Mitch’s Monthly Mix: Insider Trading: A Tape for the Turn of the Year

  1. WOW. If I were a genius filmmaker, I would make a film about the decline of the Republic and this would be the soundtrack.

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