3 Chords & the Truth: We're red hot! (No, really.)

It's a #𝛺*‡@µ%$! blast furnace out there.

If it's okey dokey with you, me am gonna stay in the semi-air conditioned 3 Chords & the Truth studio here in Omaha, by God, Nebraska and just play some music for you. S'alright?

S'alright.

That's about it. Too hot to think clearly. Run n i n g   o u t   o f    s  t   e   a    m.   (Thud.)

But we do have a nifty 1971 set and a long-distance dedication from way on the other side of the world this week. So stay tuned for that.

All in all, despite the horrible heat, a pretty dang good week on the Big Show.

So, as we always say . . . .

It's 3 Chords & the Truth, y'all. Be there. Aloha.

3 Chords & the Truth: 57 candles, and there's somethin' on

Kyrie eleison, down the road that I must travel.

Christe eleison, it's my birthday.

Kyrie eleison, I am freakin' old.

Lord have mercy, if I have to turn what I'm turning, the Big Show is gonna party like it's 1979. Or 1980.

Perhaps, 1985.

WHATEVER. No matter the particular year, this edition of 3 Chords & the Truth is going to rock.

Hard.

Christ have mercy, the old farts will rock. Yes we will. And so will you, Cap.

It's 3 Chords & the Truth, y'all. Be there. Aloha.

3 Chords & the Truth: God save the Welk

There's no future, no future, no future for Welk. Or is there?

That is the existential question we face this week on 3 Chords & the Truth.

The other day, if you've been hanging around these climes, you may have met Sheena. Sheena was a punk rocker. Now, Sheena's a mom with a problem.

As we learned then:

You've put safety pins in all the right places. Your hair is perfectly spiked. You have all your favorite punk rock albums in hand, and now you're heading for your brand-new Stereo Theater home-entertainment center.

And what do you find? Judy and little Jeffy are watching reruns of the Lawrence Welk Show on public television. "F*@# THAT S#!%!" your mind is screaming as you set the LPs on the kitchen table and check on the popovers you've got in the Magic Maid oven.

It's a dilemma. You believe in your children's right to explore -- to
even embrace -- new ideas, no matter how bizarre or radical. Even when it's the Lawrence Welk Show. After all, you experimented with Welk back in high school, and it's not like you became an addict or anything. BUT . . . BUT . . . YOU JUST WANT TO SIT BACK AND LISTEN TO YOUR OLD CLASH AND SEX PISTOLS RECORDS, DAMMIT!

It Just Isn't. Fair.

You pensively tug on the safety pin in your cheek -- OUCH!-- as you
take a pull on your fifth of Early Times. There must be a reasonable way to untangle this musical disconnect threatening to pull apart your family.

And the ladies in the PTA definitely frown upon child murder.

What to do?

WELL, here's what you do. You listen to this week's edition of the Big Show. It is here that we bridge the gap, learn the young'uns and remind us old'uns about the central truth of this here program.

There's only two kinds of music: good and bad. The bad, we don't mess with.

It's 3 Chords & the Truth, y'all. Be there. Aloha.

3 Chords & the Truth: Listen here, not to the voices there

Listen, my friends.

I have something important to tell you.

Listen, my friends.

It's a matter of life and death.

Listen, my friends.

If you listen to the Big Show now . . .

Listen, my friends . . .

You won't be able to hear the voices in Himself's head.

Listen, my friends.

One thing's better than the others.

LISTEN, my friends.

And it's 3 Chords & the Truth out of Omaha.

Listen, my friends.

There's madness afoot in Washington and across the nation.

Listen, my friends.

It's important to drown it out.

Listen, my friends.

There's good music here, and only noise there.

Listen, my friends.

There's beauty in the songs.

Listen, my friends.

The noise surrounding us is so ugly.

Listen, my friends.

Music keeps it away.

Just listen, my friends. The sanity you save may be your own.

It's 3 Chords & the Truth, y'all. Be there. Aloha.

Is what we're saying

Exactly.

Be there. Aloha.

3 Chords & the Truth: Can't buy a break

We must have crossed our old man back in Oregon.

I hope somebody finds us alive.

It's been that kind of stretch in these United States. Got a case of dynamite. I could hold out here all night.

Yes, I crossed my old man back in Oregon. Been that kind of night.

And as hurricanes sit on us and spin, and fires burn and Washington won't take us alive . . . we cope the best we can. Come to think of it, a case of dynamite might. . . .

No, nix that. The Big Show ain't going there. I'll get a case of LPs, instead.

Good music will get us through it -- alive.

3 Chords & the Truth will get us through alive . . . and groovin'.

Yep. It's 3 Chords & the Truth, y'all. Be there. Aloha.

Music for times like these

If the Trump hits the fan, make sure you have enough 3 Chords & the Truth to last for two full weeks.

3 Chords & the Truth: Sanity music day

You ever take a "sanity sick day" at work?

Maybe you call it a "mental health day."

Maybe you never have taken such when life is getting you down. And maybe you did a few days in jail for punching a couple of people in the nose after they had the nerve to say "Good morning!"

Maybe you should have taken the voluntary sanity sick day instead of the involuntary soap-on-a-rope sojourn.

Well, we are down here in the 3 Chords & the Truth bunker here in Omaha, by God, Nebraska . . . and there's nowhere to run to when you're already in your hidey hole. Because it's crazy out there.

So, on this edition of the Big Show, we're doing the next best thing. This week, it's the musical equivalent of a mental health day.

I strongly advise you to take advantage of this Mental Health Edition of the program. Consider the alternative.

It's 3 Chords & the Truth, y'all. Be there. Aloha.

3 Chords & the Truth: State of emergency

This is 3 Chords & the Truth.

A state of civil emergency has been declared for your area of the United States of America.

We're in it deep now, bucko. And there doesn't seem to be a manual for how to handle a mess like this.

Repeat: A state of civil emergency has been declared for your area of the United States of America.

This is your emergency podcast, 3 Chords & the Truth. Stay tuned to this Internet frequency for further instructions. And music.

Much music will be found on the Big Show. Remain calm and listen to the best in music entertainment right here on your Internet dial.

Once again: A state of civil emergency has been declared for your area of the United States of America. This is 3 Chords & the Truth.

Be there. Aloha.

This is 3 Chords & the Truth.

3 Chords & the Truth: Staying on track

It don't come easy         
You know it don't come easy
It don't come easy         
You know it don't come easy

Ringo got it right. Love of music, like peace, is how we make it.

And I think I like how, back in my olden day, music didn't come easy. Well, at least as easily as today.

There's something to be said for stumbling across your musical passions the old-fashioned way -- happenstance, listening to the radio, a friend's record collection . . . something catching your eye at the record store. One in a building, not online.

Much also is to be said for having alien, uncool stuff imposed upon you via real Top-40 radio stations, as well as your parents' iron grip on the television . . . and the living-room console stereo . . . and the car radio, then being shocked, shocked when your youthful prejudice begins to waver.

THERE'S something to be said for having an 8 track instead of an iPod or iPhone to keep you in (CLUNK) tune. There's especially something to be said for music as a loudspeaker-based communal experience instead of an earbud-based solitary one.

What does any of this rumination have to do with this week's 3 Chords & the Truth? Beats me. I guess this -- the Not Easy way -- is where the show comes from.

We worked for it. And we're passionate about the music.

Modern times. Alas. . . .

THE BIG SHOW is music as a social exercise. And your Mighty Favog hopes you're playing it loudly on your stereo . . . sound system . . . whatever you call it today . . . and that your windows are open.

After all, it's so good it'd be a crime to keep it all to yourself.

It's 3 Chords & the Truth, y'all. Be there. Aloha.

3 Chords & the Truth: Circular seasoning

This job is a lot harder than I thought it'd be.

Thought I'd just charge straight ahead on 3 Chords & the Truth. See the hill; take the hill.

Instead, I'm an ever rollin' wheel, without a destination real.

I'm an ever spinning top, whirling around till I drop.

Oh, but what am I to do? My mind is in a whirlpool!

Give me a little hope, one small thing to cling to. You got me going in circles -- oh, round and round I go!

And I can't even tell you about the show without cribbing Friends of Distinction lyrics!

Sad!

I'm just going in circles. How can I make radio great again like this?

WELL . . .  let's us just accentuate the positive. Eliminate the negative.

And latch on to the affirmative. Don't mess with Mister In-Between.

AAAARRRRRRGGGGGGGGHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 

I can't even write this stupid descriptive doomaflatchie without plagiarizing in circles. It's like circling the drain of professional life. The painted ponies go up and down on the carousel of life.
 
I give up. Now I'm stealing my way into abject depression about the fleeting nature of time -- and my lost youth.

Listen, the show is good, despite it all. Some stuff about circles. And some stuff you can dance to. Right here on the Big Show.

Really, it's all good. And it's not like I have a nuclear arsenal at my disposal or anything.

IT'S 3 Chords & the Truth, y'all. Be there. Aloha.

3 Chords & the Truth: The revolution starts now

Uncle Sam wants you . . . to live as an American.

Not a Russian.

Not an angry German.

Not a Serb.

Not a Klansman.

Not an "alt" anything.

THE ALT STOPS HERE on 3 Chords & the Truth. The revolution starts now.

Welcome to the Zeitgeist Edition of the Big Show. There will be lots of good music to listen to -- and to chew on -- this week. Believe me.

Just remember one simple thing: Be more American. Be less a**hole.

That's about it.

It's 3 Chords & the Truth, y'all. Be there.  Aloha.

3 Chords & the Truth: It's a smash!

Did you hear the big news?

The Big Show is a BIG SMASH! And we're not talking about what happens to your fedora when you accidentally sit on it, either.

No, the kind of "smash" we're talking about when we're talking about 3 Chords & the Truth is the good kind of smash . . . as in "smash hit." As in "smashes down the boundaries of excellence in music programming."

Yes, in that respect, your favorite music podcast is indeed a smash.

THIS WEEK,  we'll be doing more of our customary smashing of barriers that dictate what you can and can't do with a music format. And we'll be smashing any notion that you might guess what we'll be doing next -- or playing next on the Big Show.

That's the Big News about 3C&T all wrapped up in a petite promotional package. And the big news is, of course, very good news.

Even more succinctly, let me put it this way: Give the Big Show just 90 minutes of your valuable time, and we'll give you an entire world of music. Sound fair? Good. We'll meet you over at the podcast player.

It's 3 Chords & the Truth, y'all. Be there. Aloha.

3 Chords & the Truth: A minute better

 
The last couple of weeks, the Big Show has run a minute long.

I interpret this as there being just too much spectacular stuff to fit in a mere 90 minutes of 3 Chords & the Truth.

You know that great Billy Eckstine album I was telling you about earlier on the blog? We're leading the show with the best cut. This is called "getting off to a fast start."

And then we don't let up a bit -- a great number, recorded live in 1987, from the late tenor-sax great Stan Getz. And then after that. . . .

WELL, we don't need to lay waste to the mystery of this edition of the Big Show, do we? No, we don't.

Not knowing what's next is half the fun of it all -- am I right?

Anyway, it's another good 'un, and you just might want to make 3 Chords & the Truth appointment listening. This is called "the smart thing to do."

In a wee housekeeping note, you'll notice that we've made just a few format tweaks in honor of this being episode No. 301 of the program. The biggest tweak is this: After more than 7 1/2  years, we're getting a new primary opening theme. Let's just say Gruppo Sportivo's Superman spoke to my radio-guy soul the other day.

THAT'S about it for this week. Just listen . . . and just have fun here in 3C&T land.

It's 3 Chords & the Truth, y'all. Be there. Aloha.

3 Chords & the Truth: 300 and counting

  
Three hundred.

300.

Thrice five score.

Three hundred episodes of 3 Chords & the Truth . . . and counting.

That's a lot of shows. I've loved doing every one of them -- even when I had a clunky, outdated digital audio workstation (that's computer to you and me) that I fought with all the time. I won't tell you what I called that Windows monstrosity; this show is PG-13 at its bawdiest.

But now I have a souped-up, giganto iMac, and it's all gravy now. Even more fun. And I hope you have as much fun listening as I do playing great -- and highly eclectic -- music for you on the Big Show.

WELL, this week we have another highly eclectic and hugely fun program for you to mark the Big 300th episode. We start out with a "revolutionary" set in honor of Revolution 21, the umbrella under which your humble musical smorgasbord keeps its powder dry. Dry gunpowder is important when you're aiming for a music explosion, don't you see?

Then we have some more smorgasbord, and then some classic soul, and then . . . well, why dispel all mystery about this episode of 3 Chords & the Truth.

Needless to say, it's a good 'un.

Set a spell, take your clothes off . . . NO, THAT'S NOT RIGHT . . . PG-13, REMEMBER? Let me try this again.

SET A SPELL. Take your shoes off. Y'all have fun now, y'hear?

Clothed. Absolutely clothed. Family show here on the Internets. Yeah, that's the ticket.

It's 3 Chords & the Truth, y'all. Be there. Aloha.

3 Chords & the Truth: Blown away

Even after 265 editions, 3 Chords & the Truth still delivers . . . a BIG SHOW.

So you might want to hang onto something sturdy when you listen to this week's show. Let's just say that Phil Spector isn't the only guy capable of building a "wall of sound" -- although these days, Phil has other walls to concern himself with.

Actually, this week's 3 Chords & the Truth sonically washes over you more than it hits you like a brick wall. Actually, you hit the brick wall; it doesn't hit you.

Actually, this week's Big Show probably would sound pretty good recorded on Maxell cassette tape, from which the theme of this post was shamelessly pilfered.

Pilfered. It's such a polite word, unlike "stolen."



WHAT? This makes no sense?

If you want sense at this hour, I question your rock 'n' roll bona fides. Listen, pally, loud with a backbeat is good enough. Or, as Bono calls it . . . "The Miracle (Of Joey Ramone)."

I'd like to think Joey Ramone would like this week's program.

"The usual, sir?"

"Please."

Well, hang on.

IT'S 3 Chords & the Truth, y'all. Be there. Aloha.

3 Chords & the Truth: This week's show, explained

What do you get when you love music? 

A station with a pin to burst your bubble,
That's what you get for all your trouble,
I'll try 3 Chords & the Truth!
I'll try 3 Chords & the Truth!

What do you get when you want some tunes?
You get enough crap to fertilize a garden
You're in it hip deep but can't grow a begonia
I'll try 3 Chords & the Truth! 
I'll try 3 Chords & the Truth! 

DON'T TELL me what it's all about,
I've switched off FM, and I'm glad that I'm out 
Out of that junk, that junk that slimes you 
That is why I'm here to remind you 

What do you get when you give your heart?
You turn on the radio, and your mind gets battered 
That's what you get, your ears are shattered, 
I'll try 3 Chords & the Truth!   
Out of that junk, that junk that slimes you 
That is why I'm here to remind you

What do you get when you fall in love? 
You only get noise and pain and sorrow 
So for all my tomorrows
I'll try 3 Chords & the Truth! 
I'll try 3 Chords & the Truth!  

IT'S 3 Chords & the Truth, y'all. Be there. Aloha.

3 Chords & the Truth: It's a surprise

The things I could tell you about this edition of the Big Show.

But I'm not. That would ruin it all.

Like, there's this one set on this week's 3 Chords & the Truth, and I'm telling you -- this is funny -- that when . . . nope. Not gonna get into that.

Quit asking.

Listen, I'm not telling you. You know that half the fun of the Big Show is that you have no idea what's coming next. Oh, the joys of freeform radio.

Even when it's not on the radio. By the way, cool radio in the picture, huh?

But there is this other stretch on the show. . . . No, I'd better go before I spill the beans.

It's 3 Chords & the Truth, y'all. Be there. Aloha.

Spinning records, nurturing dreams

"Progress" happens. New things come; old things go.

Kids quit going to record stores, and they start "file-sharing" or buying singles comprised of ones and zeros on iTunes. Digital in, physical presence out.

But with all the things the electronic marketplace can do, and with all the convenience and immediacy it offers, there are some things -- important things -- that get lost in translation. One thing is magical, musical places like The Antiquarium record store on the edge of Omaha's Old Market.

Another thing is the kind, curmudgeonly, opinionated presence of someone like Dave Sink -- the grandfather of the Omaha indie scene and purveyor of great old LPs, CDs and punk 45s. I know. I left much of my money there, then brought many of those LPs , CDs and 45s here.

And for a while there, I probably saw Dave every single week. So did a bunch of young kids with big dreams -- like Conor Oberst of Bright Eyes fame.

That won't be happening anymore. Some years back, Dave retired, and then The Antiquarium record store moved around the corner after its longtime home was sold. And now Dave is dead.

ON THE Hear Nebraska website, Oberst (one of the kids I used to see around the record store) explains what iTunes will never be, not in a million years:

I don’t remember the first time I went to the Antiquarium or met Dave Sink. It all just kind of happened. I suppose I would have been 12 or so, just tagging along with my brothers and the older kids from the neighborhood. Whenever that was I know I could not have known then that that place would become the epicenter of discovery for my musical life (and life in general) and probably the single most sacred place of my adolescence. Dave was a rare bird. He had a way of making you feel good even as he insulted you. He was especially kind to misfits and oddballs. Hence him nearly always being surrounded in the shop by a small enclave of disaffected youth. Boys mostly, but girls too, who would sit hour after hour listening to him pontificate about punk rock, baseball, local politics, French literature, chess, philosophy, modern art or whatever was the topic of the day. The thing about Dave that gave him such a loyal following was not just the way he talked to us but also the way he listened. At a time in life when most all adults are to be seen as the enemy it was strange to meet one who was on your side. He treated us as peers, like our ideas and ambitions were worth something. He wasn’t always pleasant or polite, but he wasn’t a fake. And it is that quality that cuts through the angst and straight to the teenage heart.

He made me feel like my dreams and plans mattered, encouraging me to pursue them even as he talked trash on my latest recording or most recent show. It is true you had to be a bit of a masochist to be friends with Dave, but despite his sarcasm and argumentative nature he had a soft heart and generous spirit. He gave me a lot of good advice over the years, as well as my first real stereo and turntable. He said he couldn’t stand watching me waste my money on the inferior formats of CDs and cassettes.

NEITHER will radio be, not anymore, what Dave Sink and his little record store (down the stairs and to the basement of the old building on Harney Street) were to its city. Maybe radio once was . . . kind of. That was a long time ago -- a generation or more ago -- back before dull men in pricey suits began to erase all the "Dave" out of their now-sinking industry.

Antiquarium Records was a social network digital eons before MySpace and Facebook. It got the word out when radio wouldn't, and this nascent Internet thing couldn't.

Kevin Coffey picks up the story in the Omaha World-Herald:

Sink loved vinyl, underground and obscure music, baseball and talking to customers, often recommending something or flat-out criticizing their purchases.

He also started One Hour Records, which released music from local bands such as Mousetrap, Ritual Device and Simon Joyner, among others.

When Gary Dean Davis' band, Frontier Trust, wanted to put out a record, Sink was their man. Davis, owner of SPEED! Nebraska Records and a Catholic school principal, recalled getting the first pressing of the band's record and racing to the Antiquarium to play it.

"We didn't have a radio station, so the Antiquarium kind of became that because there were kids hanging down there," Davis said. "We'd play our record and they'd immediately come down to the counter and say, 'How can I get that?'"

Davis recalled him as a local music booster who made kids in bands feel like they were doing something legitimate.

Sink's death left many to wonder what Omaha's nationally-recognized music scene would be without him.

"Dave was neither subtle nor short of opinion," said Robb Nansel, president of Saddle Creek Records. "I shudder to think of what this city would look like if there had been no Dave and no Antiquarium. It's safe to say there would be one less record label and one less music venue calling Omaha home."

YOU KNOW those records by Frontier Trust and The Monroes (another Davis "tractor punk" band) you sometimes hear on 3 Chords & the Truth? Where the hell do you think I got many of them?

Where the hell do you think I heard about the Monroes?

We live in a cynical world, one that loves money, breeds alienation and waits for a hero . . . in that Godot-esque sort of way.

Heroes we have. They dwell in out-of-the-way places like smoky basements filled with musty vinyl. They're so close, yet so far away.

Kind of like our hopes and dreams.