Folk-rock obscurity Fred Neil is regularly touted as one of the movement's pioneering geniuses, and The Sky Is Falling: The Complete Live Recordings 1963-1971 puts his work into perspective for any doubters. Collecting his live 1971 swan song album, The Other Side of This Life (which counts celebrity guests like David Crosby, Gram Parsons, and Stephen Stills), and appending four early rarities taped from a Bitter End performance in 1963, this set bookends Neil's folk-rock career insightfully.
Although Dana Gillespie is probably best known for her early-'70s spell among David Bowie's most visible cohorts, her own career dates back almost as far as Bowie's himself, with the pair even sharing a record label (Decca) and producer (Mike Vernon) during the late '60s. Whereas Bowie was more intent on aping Anthony Newley and the English music hall traditions, however, Gillespie was turning in an album that stands as the missing link between period Marianne Faithfull and future Elastica.
Jesse James Dupree is an American musician, television personality, and businessman. He is the lead singer, guitarist, and primary songwriter in the rock band Jackyl, founded in 1991. As a solo performer, he released albums in 2000 and 2008 under the names of "Jesse James Dupree" and "Jesse James Dupree & Dixie Inc.", respectively. In 2007, Dupree founded Mighty Loud Entertainment, a record label and artist management and marketing company. 2008 brought the release of Rev It Up and Go-Go, an album by Jesse James Dupree & Dixie Inc.[6] Three music videos were released in promotion of the new CD: "Money Lovin' & Speed", "The Party" and "Bite".
In the five years that have elapsed since the release of Alvvays’ second album, Antisocialites, and their long-awaited third, Blue Rev, the Toronto-via-PEI band had to deal with every possible roadblock a band could face: lineup changes, demo thefts, gear-destroying basement floods—and that was before the pandemic.
It slipped out of a Mississippi of hot biscuits, genteel table manners and working-class sense, suddenly overturned by a grave sinning and suicide. Carried on an evening breeze of strings and a supple, foreboding voice like sensually charged breath, “Ode to Bilie Joe”—Bobbie Gentry’s 1967 debut as a singer-songwriter and a Number One single for three weeks in the late Summer of Love—was the most psychedelic record of that year not from San Francisco or London, as if Bob Dylan, Neil Young and Brian Wilson had conspired to make a country-rock Pet Sounds. Except Gentry, just 23 when she wrote the song, got there first, in miniature.