Ray Price- Take These Chains From My Heart

The chains are gone.

It's funny how time erodes the taint of selling out. Ray Price began his career as a Hank Williams acolyte before finding stardom recording countrypolitan schmaltz. He found redemption at the end of his career thanks to the sponsorhip of Willie Nelson. But today, his entire catalog, including the big hits, sounds wonderful. This song from a radio-shot session catches him in full-on Hank mode. It's likely from 1958.

Jerry Butler- Never Give You Up

It gave up.

Luther is gone. So is Curtis. The Wicked Pickett just left. But the Iceman is still among us, performing concerts at the age of 66. He sings in Gary and in Portland this month. Recordings like this from the late '60s are so great that they make all other music seem irrelevant.

Trio Mediaeval- Ave Regina Gloriosa

You'll have to seek beauty elsewhere.

One of the most extraordinary performances I've experienced was a recent recital by Trio Mediaeval. Their unamplified, unaccompanied voices transported over a 1,000 listeners through time and space. It's not surprising that the Scandinavians record for ECM; their cool, sophisticated style meshes with the label's stark sensibilities. Prepare yourself for the transcendent sound of peace.

The Pedaljets- Tiny World

The world is even tinier now.

The Pedaljets were pre-Nevermind heroes in Kansas City. Less abrasive than the (Mortal) Micronotz, The Pedaljets owned the nascent scene for a year or two. It's the screaming that commences at the 2:30 mark of this song that really makes it remarkable. "Tiny World" is from 1988's out-of-print Today Today album.

Scott Hamilton- I'll Be Around

He's Around No More

Not that Scott Hamilton, silly! The effusive ice skating commentator was back in the spotlight for NBC's coverage of the Olympics, but the saxophonist of the same name has been a favorite of trad jazz fans for over 25 years. His rich sound evokes both Coleman Hawkins and Lester Young. There's plenty of room for Hamilton's old-fashioned Concord-label swing in my world. This swoon-worthy ballad is taken from his out-of-print 1990 release Radio City. The lovely piano is courtesy of Gerry Wiggins.

James Harman- Motel King

He's checked out.

James Harman is the single most underappreciated artist in roots music. It's criminal that only the niche blues audience is aware of his incredible harmonica playing, his rich Southern voice, his incredible band and their dynamic live performances. And as heard on this song from 1991, Harman's recordings just feel more alive than most blues documents. Harman's also a thinking man's bluesman. Most of his releases have a theme, such as gambling, eating, or in the case of the out-of-print Do Not Disturb, life on the road. Every traveler can appreciate the sentiment behind "Motel King." Fans of John Doe, the Blasters, and Los Lobos would be doing themselves a favor by jumping on the Harman bandwagon. There's plenty of elbow room on board.

Marvin- Can't Cry Hard Enough

The Crying Is Over

Why aren’t more songs written about death and mourning? Lou Reed’s Magic & Loss, Bruce Springsteen’s The Rising, Loudon Wainwright III’s History contain a few great songs in this vein. Beth Nielsen Chapman and Cindy Bullens have dealt with loss as well.

But Marvin’s "Can’t Cry Hard Enough" bests all of these contributions. It conveys the devastating emptiness and bitter defiance that accompany grief. It may seem overwrought to anyone who has never experienced this agony, but people in the throes of the experience will recognize its genuine pathos. I’m not the only fan of the song; it’s been covered by Victoria Williams, Christine Collister and Julie Miller.

"Can’t Cry Hard Enough" is from the out-of-print debut album by Marvin Etzioni, or Marvin the Mandolin Man as he was billed then. It was issued in 1992 after he left Lone Justice. It ranks alongside the Waterboys’ Fisherman’s Blues and Van Morrison’s Moondance as a gypsy soul classic.

Bobby Watson- Donna Lee

She's Gone

Is Bobby Watson Kansas City's best saxophonist since Charlie Parker? He's certainly received more acclaim than anyone since Bird's death. On this out-of-print Italian solo album from 1993, Watson takes on "Donna Lee," a piece associated with Parker. His tone has since become deeper and huskier. Bobby tells me it's simply because he has a different horn. He currently heads the University of Missouri-Kansas City jazz studies program.

The Del Lords- About You

About over.

The Del Lords are best known today as Eric Ambel's old band. Ambel has since achieved a cult following as an ace guitarist for hire and as a sympathetic producer of roots-oriented bands like the Bottle Rockets. But a couple decades ago, the Del Lords were considered to be rock'n'roll saviors by the leather jacket crowd. Scott Kempner came from the Dictators, while Ambel had been one of Joan Jett's Heartbreakers. In "About You," Kempner compares his girl to a "song from 1968." That's my kind of guy. The out-of-print Lovers Who Wander, from 1990, is loaded with elemental songs like this.

Jazz Jamaica All Stars- Vitamin A

The jar is empty.

It sounds like a really bad idea. A twenty-piece jazz band interpreting ska? But it works. Bandleader Gary Crosby managed to mold the enormous English and Jamaican collective into a grooving machine. The key is the beat- in spite of their size, they never lose it. Massive came out in 2001 and is already out-of-print. It seems to be missed though. Used copies sell for upwards of $40.00.

Ray Barretto- Quitate La Mascara

It's a sad loss.

Percussionist and bandleader Ray Barretto died today. He was 76. Only Mongo Santamaria and Tito Puente rivaled Barretto’s influence and success in the Latin jazz world. "Quitate La Mascara" is taken from a compilation of salsa recorded for the Fania label. Listen and marvel at its fantastic horn charts and impeccable percussion. Barretto seemed to prefer jazz, though, and he began and ended his career working in that medium.

Paul Kelly- Forty Miles To Saturday Night

It's Monday morning for this song.

John Fogerty’s "Almost Saturday Night" may be the greatest rock’n’roll song not written by someone named Berry, Holly or Diddley. Accordingly, it’s been widely imitated. One of the best attempts at capturing its exuberant yet clear-eyed spirit was made by Australia’s Paul Kelly. "Forty Miles To Saturday Night" hits several key elements of great songs- beer, lust, driving and blowing a paycheck. Aside from an unfortunate keyboard solo, this anthem still inspires me eighteen years after its release.

Howard Iceberg- Leavin' Kansas City

Howard packed up and left.

Texas can keep Kinky Friedman. We have Howard Iceberg. Like Kinky, Howard is an intriguing, larger-than-life figure. But unlike Kinky, it's not dangerous to stand between Howard and a television camera. The Kansas City songwriter is clearly the spawn of Bob Dylan and John Prine. And I regret the unkind things I've uttered about Howard's voice in the past. I've come to realize that while it may have prevented him from achieving wider acclaim, his voice is the perfect vehicle to deliver smart, funny vignettes like Leavin' Kansas City.

Lee Konitz- Manha De Carnaval

Carnaval is over.

There's no such thing as typical Lee Konitz. Still, hearing him play a Brazilian standard accompanied only by guitar is unlikely. As I wrote yesterday, I saw Konitz perform with Bill Frisell a few days ago. It's remarkable that a guy who began recording with the Paul Whiteman orchestra in 1947 specializes in free jazz almost 60 years later.

Frisell, Godsey, Ales- Safety In Numbers

It's no longer safe here.

Guitarist Bill Frisell was paired with Lee Konitz at a concert I attended Saturday night. As I wrote in my review of the show, it was improvisational music of the highest order. On this obscure 1995 session of manipulated industrial noise, Frisell produces dramatically different sounds than he did with the legendary saxophonist. It's a vivid demonstration of the ugly beauty at the core of Frisell's brilliance.

Ruby Braff & Ellis Larkins- My Funny Valentine

I no longer love you.

"My Funny Valentine"'s beautiful melody belies the cruelty of its lyrics. "Your looks are laughable"? "Figure less than Greek"? "Mouth a little weak"? Were Rogers and Hart trying to get guys slapped? And that's one reason I'm offering this instrumental version of the standard a day early. It'll give you time to realize this rendition's superiority before the big day arrives. Pairing elegant pianist Ellis Larkins with Ruby Braff's spirited cornet for a series of duet recordings was John Hammond's idea. It's a sublime combination. Larkins' unconventional approach to the song overflows with imagination. Braff, as always, is warm and melodic. These 1956 recordings are highly recommended for lovers of traditional jazz, as well as for lovers of romance in general.

Toninho Horta- Prato Feito

Horta and Pat are gone.

This Brazilian recording was released in 1980- and it sounds like it. The synths, percussion flourishes and vocal effects are dated. A major figure in his native country, Toninho Horta allows this song to serve as a showcase for an extended melodic guitar solo by Pat Metheny. Still, you’ll be rewarded if you can manage to accept it for what it is, and allow this exceedingly beautiful music to cascade over you. The self-titled CD is out of print.

Eddie Hinton- Get Off In It

You'll just have to imagine how good this is.

I'd give almost anything to sing like Otis Redding. That's what Eddie Hinton did until those personal demons ended his life in 1995. The wonderful Very Extremely Dangerous, from 1978, is out of print again. "Get Off In It" isn't a song so much as it is a feeling, a mood, or a sermon. It moves me. Earlier this week, I learned that my old friend, Dan Conn, died. He loved Eddie Hinton, too. I'll miss you, Dan.

The Jesus and Mary Chain- Never Understood

And now you'll never get it.

Beginning with its title, Munki is a mess. It should have been called either I Love Rock'n'Roll or I Hate Rock'n'Roll, after the songs that open and close the 70-minute Sub Pop release from 1998. Munki is an album about JAMC's relationship to rock'n'roll as fans and as professional musicians. The band had been outflanked on all sides. And they knew it. As this song frames it, "I think I'm going out of style. I think I've known it for a while." It's a shame, because with just a little more work, Munki could have been great. Many of the songs are no more than rough sketches; it's as if the band gave up on the project before it was completed. Maybe that explains the title- they couldn't decide whether they loved or hated the music. Munki it is then!

Milt Abel, R.I.P.

Milt and the MP3 have left us.

Milt Abel specialized in a brand of cocktail jazz that gets virtually no respect these days. But there was a time when musicians like the Modern Jazz Quartet, Ahmad Jamal and Erroll Garner were both popular and critically respected. Bassist Milt Abel enjoyed a similar status in Kansas City.

I became familiar with Abel in the late ‘80s and early ‘90s, when a swank affair wasn’t complete without Abel and his upright bass. In prior decades, Abel led a successful nightclub act. A handsome man partial to staid sports jackets and slacks, Abel was infused with a quiet dignity. He was an Episcopalian, after all.

Abel died Sunday. He was 77. While his talent was comparable to better known jazz bassists Milt Hinton and Ray Brown, Abel never achieved national acclaim. I recall that Abel had a fine singing voice that matched his smooth tone on bass, but I’m not sure if any recorded examples of his singing exist. And I’m fairly certain he never recorded as a leader.

I wouldn’t typically associate Abel with Thelonious Monk, but this sedate version of "Blue Monk" from a locally released charitable project is a great example of Abel’s sophisticated style. That’s Jay McShann on piano, Tommy Ruskin on drums and Michael White on clarinet.

In a 1998 issue of JAM magazine, Mike Metheny mentioned that Abel sung at Charlie Parker’s funeral. I’m sure he’ll be memorialized with wonderful music at his jazz wake on Thursday.

Kristen Hall- Not Since I Found You

The MP3 can no longer be found.

The first time I saw a Sugarland video, I thought that the 40-something gal in the country-rock crossover act looked familiar. Sure enough, it was Kristen Hall, who'd I'd admired as a folkie in the '90s. Here's a song from her out-of-print debut. Real Life Stuff was issued in 1990 on Daemon, the label operated by Amy Ray of the Indigo Girls. The sound is rough, but a couple things stand out. Several of the songs, including "Not Since I Found You," sound like demos of potential hits, and Hall's rich voice really sells them. Just last month, Hall quit her hit-making band. So she won't be at the Grammy Awards on Wednesday night when Sugarland will likely fall to John Legend, Fall Out Boy, Keane or Ciara as the winner of the Best New Artist award.

Gil Evans- Voodoo Chile

The spell is broken.

Legendary tuba player Howard Johnson sat in on a jam session I attended last night. (I posted a photo on my my personal blog .) Johnson is in town to work with saxophonist Bobby Watson at the University of Missouri-Kansas City's jazz studies program. Johnson worked with Charles Mingus in the 1960s and played an instrumental role in the Saturday Night Live house band in the 1970s. He’s continued his career as a forward-thinking artist since then. I love his manic solo towards the end of this fiery rendition of Jimi Hendrix' "Voodoo Chile" from a live 1984 session with the Gil Evans Orchestra. Trombonist Tom Malone and guitarist Hiram Bullock also solo. Incidentally, the 64-year-old Johnson looks slimmer and healthier than I've ever seen him.

The Windbreakers- You Never Give Up

But the MP3 host gave up.

There was a time when this brand of jangly, psychedelic college rock meant the world to me. Yet I'm not sure it's aged any better than me. Tim Lee and Bobby Sutliff crafted several albums of hazy but catchy guitar-based material, like this Mitch Easter-produced song from 1983. The terrific compilation Time Machine (1982-2002) on the Paisley Pop label stands in for my scratchy old LPs, but really, the dusty grooves would significantly enhance my nostalgia.

Sherman Ferguson, R.I.P.

The song is over.

Drummer Sherman Ferguson died January 22 at his home in California. He was 61. Prior to his work with UCLA's Jazz Studies program, Ferguson had performed and recorded with dozens of artists, including Kenny Burrell, Pat Martino and Sonny Stitt. In the 1970s, he led the jazz-funk band Catalyst. The Philadelphia-based group's four albums on the Muse label were reissued in 1999 as Catalyst: The Funkiest Band You Never Heard. It's out of print. Ferguson, along with keyboardist Eddie Green, is credited for "A Country Song," an acid jazz time capsule from 1974's Unity. It's so dated it's futuristic.

Thelonious Monk- Rhythm-A-Ning

No more rhythm.

It comes as no surprise that an old recording of Thelonious Monk and John Coltrane has been met with boundless enthusiasm. Monk and Coltrane will be popular as long as humans have access to music replay devices. I trust a few recent converts will be inspired to dig deeper. 'Trane was just one of the many incredible saxophonists who played with Monk. Others were Johnny Griffin, Coleman Hawkins and Sonny Rollins. Yet his most constant sax man was Charlie Rouse, whos distinctive muffled tone is heard to good effect on this 1961 set. Where 'Trane shreds, Rouse sublimates himself to the composition.

The Midday Ramblers- Married To Misery

The misery has ended.

No one's going to confuse The Midday Ramblers with the Del McCoury Band. But these Lawrence, Kansas, bluegrass boys possess unlimited spirit and enthusiasm, qualities just as important as technical brilliance and pure, high lonesome voices. Their wonderful album titles reflect the band's sensibility- Bluegrass Music Is Fun, The Midday Ramblers Play Songs They Know, and Free Country Music, which contains this impressive Kory Willis original.

Bob Woodruff- That Was Then

And the MP3 was up back then, too.

It turns out that there are at least two men named Bob Woodruff. One is a journalist for ABC who sustained life-threatening injuries in Iraq and is front page news today. There's also a first-rate country music artist by that name. He has only two releases, Dreams & Saturday Nights from 1994 and 1997's Desire Road. Both out-of-print albums are filled with tough songs about barrooms, broken hearts and forgotten dreams. Unlike his namesake at ABC, Woodruff never achieved great acclaim. He's too country for the "alt" crowd, and is too gritty for commercial country radio. I fear that the country Bob Woodruff may have stumbled into the same hard-luck obscurity that's befallen the character in "That Was Then."

Bottle Rockets- Wave That Flag

This flag waves no more.

Even more so than Uncle Tupelo, it was Brian Henneman's Bottle Rockets that epitomized the entire "No Depression" movement for me. Combining the honest aspects of Lynyrd Skynyrd and toughest elements of Merle Haggard, Bottle Rockets were arguably the best rock band in the world for a couple years in the early '90s. Henneman and company are still grinding it out, but they've lost momentum and Henneman's more recent material doesn't seem to have the same luster. This debut album, along with the outstanding Brooklyn Side, equal anything in the genre. Both seem to be out of print.

Brother Ali- Self Taught

The MP3 graduated.

Let's face it- most live hip hop shows are weak. Performances by the roster of the Rhymesayers label are an exception. A black albino Muslim, Brother Ali's incredible charisma and brilliant spontaneity make him even funnier and more provocative than labelmate Atmosphere. Accompanied only by a DJ, Ali wins over the few people in attendance who aren't already converts. On "Self Taught" from 2004's Champion EP, Ali explains himself and the Rhymesayers philosophy. As he says, "Any way you look at it, this shit is amazing."

New Black- Time Attack

Time's up for the MP3.

Many people, myself included, are excited about the new Gossip album that came out yesterday. I've always liked punk-funk and no-wave by the likes of Gang of Four, The Contortions and The Bush Tetras. The Gossip, along with Chicago's New Black, are carrying on that noisy tradition. The title track from 2005's Time Attack is a two minute burst of brilliant idiocy.

Julia Lee- Show Me Missouri Blues

Show Me up and left.

By the time this 1945 session was recorded in Kansas City, Julia Lee had been singing in clubs around town for twenty years. She was renowned for her risque songs, and the swinging "Show Me Missouri Blues" is no exception. "You proved to me everything is in the sack," she sings. "What I've got is too hot, ain't gonna put it on the shelf." And check Julia's piano solo- it epitomizes the bluesy sound popularized by Jay McShann and Count Basie.

John Hollenbeck- Weiji

Weiji has disappeared.

Are you up for some avant garde noise? John Hollenbeck's A Blessing comes across as John Zorn deconstructing an old Stan Kenton chart or as Gil Evans interpreting Sonic Youth. "Weiji" is some righteously evil noise. It's nominated in the category of "Best Large Jazz Ensemble Album" in next month's Grammy Awards. I wonder what voters who actually listen to it will make of A Blessing's tribal drumming, brief flashes of swing and the use of voice as an instrumental instrument. Who knows? Perhaps Kanye West will hear it and transform this sound into the next big thing.

Jim & Jesse- It's a Lonesome Feeling

It's now even more lonesome without music.

I wore out my Music Among Friends cassette when I worked as a traveling salesman in the early '90s. "Lonesome Feeling" became a personal anthem, and it remains among my favorite bluegrass performances. Believe me, when you're working the territory from Bentonville to Boulder and from Omaha to Amarillo, these lyrics really resonate. "Nobody cares a thing about you. It's a heavy load."

Wilson Pickett- I'm In Love

The song is over.

More than Solomon Burke and Otis Redding, Wilson Pickett was my entry point into hard soul singing. I just couldn't believe the way the man screamed. He made Robert Plant and Roger Daltrey, both remarkable screechers, sound like utter twits. Pickett's classic recordings, along with a handful of more recent efforts, such as the fine 1999 release, It's Harder Now, will be enjoyed forever. Of his many hits, "I'm In Love" is the one that resonates most with me. Pickett manages to turns a trifle into a deeply affecting ballad. All that said, I need never hear "Mustang Sally" again. Pickett died today. He was 64.

Myra Taylor- Take It Easy Greasy

The grease is gone.

Myra Taylor is a superstar. It's just that no one outside of Kansas City knows it. On any given night, the 88-year-old is delivering her salty act to a local audience, as a solo artist or as a quarter of The Wild Women of Kansas City. Taylor began singing professionally- are you ready for this?- in the 1930s. She first recorded the novelty song "Take It Easy Greasy" fifty years ago; this saucy version is from 2001's My Night To Dream. It would take just one television appearance with Oprah, Letterman or the gals on The View for the world to fall in love with Taylor's oversized personality.

Roy Harper- Another Day

The song didn't last another day.

I'm thrilled by the recent freak-folk movement. Cats like Devendra Banhart and Sufjan Stevens are making being a hippie stylish again. Of course, these artists' influences aren't limited to Nick Drake and Paul Simon. Dig under the newcomers' beards and you'll likely find a few moldy Roy Harper albums. Familiarity with Harper's music doesn't diminish one's appreciation of the new crop of artists, but it offers insights into the origins of many of their best ideas. Harper may be best known for the Led Zeppelin tribute "Hats Off To Harper," but perhaps this recent trend will rekindle interest the music of this secret touchstone. Harper has an enormous catalog; this wistful ditty is from 1970's excellent Flat Baroque and Berserk.

Shane MacGowan- More Pricks Than Kicks

Shane's song is gone.

Contingent on the vagaries of Priceline, I may travel to New York to catch the Pogues reunion tour in March. Like thousands of impressionable listeners, Rum, Sodomy & the Lash sent me into a tailspin in 1985. I'd followed the traditional Irish scene, but always considered it to be a quaint folk tradition. I never saw the original Pogues lineup perform and figured I never would. Shane's seemingly out-of-print The Crock of Gold, from '97, is better than anyone could expect. Still, to hear "The Old Main Drag" in March...

Pops Staples- I Shall Not Be Moved

The sentiment remains, but the song was moved.

The Staple Singers, lead by the inimitable Pops, were proof that music can, in fact, affect change. Who knows how many lives were altered when The Staple Singers moved the music of the church to the arena of pop radio?

Bob Feldman, 1949-2006

The song is over.

I’d be lying if I said I liked Bob Feldman. I often found the president of Red House Records to be irrational and unpleasant. But I also knew that, no matter how misguided he might have been, he was always passionately fighting for what he perceived as the best interests of the Minnesota-based folk label. And with Feldman at the helm, the label not only survived but prospered through difficult times. Feldman died Wednesday. He was 56. Greg Brown is Red House’s co-founder and best-known artist, but the label continues to issue acoustic-oriented music by a wide variety of performers. This Peter Ostroushko and Dean Magraw duet album is a fine example of Red House’s aesthetic.

Bill Lloyd- This Is Where I Belong

This is where the MP3 used to be.

No disrespect is intended to Big Star, the dbs, the Beatles or to the author of this song, Ray Davies of the Kinks, when I name Set To Pop as my favorite power pop album. It's loaded with anthemic brilliance, including these two minutes of sugary goodness. While his partner in the excellent late-'80s act Foster and Lloyd, Radney, continues to make intelligent country music, Lloyd is an unabashed power pop geek. Even though it's out of print, Set To Pop enjoys an active life as a cult classic.

Solomon Burke- It Makes No Difference

Solomon is gone.

On paper, Solomon Burke's Make Do With What You Got should have been one of the best new releases of 2005. The soul legend covers Bob Dylan, Hank Williams, Sr., Jagger/Richards and other impeccable songwriters. His band, led by Ray Parker, Jr., is tight. Producer Don Was has a expansive imagination and is sympathetic to veterans like Burke. But it just doesn't work. This reading of one of my favorite songs- The Band's "It Makes No Difference"- is a perfect example. The song's original vocalist, Rick Danko, had a shaky, vulnerable voice- the polar opposite of Burke's commanding instrument. Yet Burke just doesn't seem to be feeling it. Carping aside, it's still Solomon Burke and a great band interpreting a wonderful song.

Tech N9ne- Walk These Shoes

These shoes walked away.

Kansas City's Tech N9ne is a confounding collection of contradictions. He eagerly addresses the thug life, yet he also displays rare introspection. He's clearly in sync with the West Coast sound of Dre, yet instead of employing the usual slow drawl, Tech known for his rapid, Twista-like delivery. He sells out the region's big auditoriums, but a disproportionate number of ticketholders are college students. And then there's his hair... "Walk These Shoes," a defense of criminality on Kansas City's mean streets, is taken from 2000's The Worst: 2K Edition, which appears to be out of print. Filled with references to the problems that continue to plague this city, it's chilling to hear Tech toss off lines like "F*ck Ad Hoc," referring to an anti-crime group. But as he says, "'Til you walk these shoes, you couldn't understand my views."

The Replacements- Here Comes a Regular

Gone looking for a party.

I never saw a good Replacements show. They disappointed me every time I saw them. It's not that they were wasted- that doesn't faze me- they just seemed bored and indifferent. Still, like thousands of other sensitive kids, they were my favorite rock band in the mid-80s, when Paul Westerberg's songs seemed as if they were written just for me. I collected the band's output, but now I can't even remember how I came to own this live promotional CD. Yet songs like this still kill me.

Mike Henderson- Country Music Made Me Do It

Mike went home.

Columbia, Missouri's Mike Henderson is one of roots music's top guitarists. Despite having a number of CDs to his credit, including the out-of-print '94 solo debut featured here, he's still relatively unknown outside the alt-country and Nashville session work scenes. Henderson's more recent work is tougher and rawer than the pure honky tonk of the title track to his sole major label release. Those with edgier tastes are advised to seek out those Dead Reckoning label titles first. Still, this is irresistible. "Hey bartender- I surrender!"

Lou Rawls- Love Is a Hurtin' Thing

Lou's song is over.

Lou Rawls was smooth. Sort of a link between Johnny Mathis and Otis Redding, Rawls enjoyed a prosperous career on the symphonic pops circuit in recent decades, but his original hits were so universally loved that his status as a great soul, jazz and gospel singer was never jeopardized. Just listen to his voice on the wonderful "Love Is a Hurtin’ Thing" from ‘66. It’s impossibly rich and lustrous, yet at key moments, he adds a tiny bit of gravel to emphasize that yes, love is a hurtin’ thing. Rawls died earlier today. He was 72.

John Wesley Harding- When the Sun Comes Out

This song's day in the sun is over.

I'd managed to resist salvaging this CD from its ubiquitous presence in bargain bins for years. But while caught up in a Christmas shopping binge a couple weeks ago, I finally claimed a copy at a dollar store. The 1993 release finds Harding when he's still trying to decide whether he should mimic Elvis Costello or Graham Parker. He's always been likeable, though, and Harding has since matured into a less strident Billy Bragg. This sparse arrangement was produced by Steve Berlin and features Greg Leisz's always wonderful steel guitar work. It's lovely.

The Action Is- Tornado

The tornado moved on.

There's nothing fancy about Austin, TX, garage-rockers The Action Is. They clearly dig Iggy & the Stooges and The New York Dolls. Unless a band holding these traditional rock'n'roll values happens to be young and beautiful, it can be hard to catch a break. But The Action Is have stumbled into a bit of luck. Their music is featured in A&E's new reality show Rollergirls, which centers on an Austin-based roller derby team. The Action Is' unpretentious, sleazy fun is a fine match for the show's dubious premise.

Paw- Couldn't Know

This dog went home.

There was a moment in 1993 when it seemed as if Lawrence, KS, band Paw might acheive the heights of similar artitsts Nirvana and Pearl Jam. It didn't happen. Maybe they were too earnest. Perhaps Paw's hooks weren't sharp enough. Or it could be that Paw simply failed to distinguish themselves in that era's grunge glut. This song from Dragline also appears on U.K. CD single pictured.

House of Freaks- Lonely

The song has ended.

Bryan Harvey, his wife and two daughters were found dead in their Virginia home Sunday. Police are investigating the tragedy as a possible homicide. Harvey had been half of the duo House of Freaks. He also collaborated with Steve Wynn in Gutterball. House of Freaks were a roots act with pop leanings, sort of a collision between Big Star and Tom Waits. Their dynamic is well represented in "Lonely" from 1994's seemingly out-of-print Invisible Jewel.

Johnnie Johnson

Johnnie Has Gone Home

Popular music wouldn’t have played out the same way without the contribution of Johnnie Johnson. Many rock historians insist that Chuck Berry's pianist had an incalculable influence on Berry. I believe that Berry’s genius was so overwhelming that all those great songs would have been written even without Johnson's influence, but that the "roll" in Berry's rock, and consequently, the very heart of a new music, would have suffered. It's as if the traditional performances of Johnson and bassist Willie Dixon are battling Berry's modernity on this 1955 blues.

I'm tempted to continue memorializing the fallen of 2005- I have yet to write about Luther Vandross and Willie Hutch, for instance- but it’s getting ghoulish, and I’m eager to get back to the living. This is the last post of the series.