Crawdaddy’s Andrew Lau takes a comprehensive look at the album, some 11 years after the ex-Jefferson Airplane and Moby Grape multi-instrumentalist’s death. Lau explains Spence’s colorful history, explains the backstory behind the album, and even sits down with the album’s producer David Rubinson, who revealingly talks about what it was like to make the record and how hard he had to work to get the label release it. Recently celebrating its 40th anniversary, Oar retains an important place in the history of American folk music.

“It’s like Mozart writing the Requiem,” says Rubinson. “[Spence] had the clear light. He could see everything in absolute detail, in the sharpest illumination, in total relief, in the sense he could be cooking an omelette and turn around and say something so mind-bendingly clear and perfect; he would express it in incredible terms and it was obviously true. It was the trance medium process; he was the medium for the stuff coming through. It was that way with the clothes he wore, it was that way with the way he wanted to do business, the way he treated people.”

Read the rest of, Oar After 40 Years: Brilliant or Mere Ramblings? at Crawdaddy!

Listen to Spence in action with his group Moby Grape:

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[Oar After 40 Years: Brilliant or Mere Ramblings? is a post in From the Vault - The Wolfgang's Vault blog.]

In typical Dinky style, the story doesn’t stop with some drunken debauchery. Just when it looked like the plane’s co-pilot was going to put the kibosh on one of Mr. Morisson’s favorite games — one that, by today’s FAA standards, may be punishable by death (let’s just say it involves throwing Swiss Army knives) — the co-pilot pulled off a move that shocked them all.

“You got him now, Clarence!” I yelled, “Get ’em!” One more throw, I figured, and Morrison would be done. Suddenly, the co-pilot walked into the lounge unannounced, and all activity stopped dead. He sternly looked at all of us.

“Enough!” he shouted with authority. “Time to calm down.”

“And you,” he said, pointing to the stewardess, “you are needed downstairs.” We were busted! Feeling guilty, everyone in the lounge grinned sheepishly at his rebuke, turning our eyes away from him, boys with their hands caught in the cookie jar.

Read the rest of Dinky Dawson’s “Clarence White and Jim Morrison Stretch on a 747″ at Crawdaddy!.

Also check out Dinky Dawson’s Dawson Sound collection of live recordings, featuring crystal clear, rare recordings of Bo Didley, Linda Ronstadt, Elton John, Bonnie Raitt, the Byrds, and many more.

[My Life Is The Road: Clarence White and Jim Morrison Stretch on a 747 is a post in From the Vault - The Wolfgang's Vault blog.]

Crawdaddy!’s Denise Sullivan takes an in-depth look at “Surrealistic Pillow.” What was the story behind the album? Who were the key behind-the-scenes personalities who helped shape the disc? What did the album mean to the author? And above all, what the hell is a Surrealistic Pillow? And who came up with that name? The answer might surprise you.

“Surrealistic Pillow was the first to demonstrate to me that songs, even songs without words, cannot only travel the distance of the journey, they can actually chart the course for the trip.”

Read the rest of Denise Sullivan’s look at Jefferson Airplane’s “Surrealistic Pillow.”

We’ve also got tons of live Jefferson Airplane music like this at our Concert Vault:

[Origin of Song: What is a Surrealistic Pillow? is a post in From the Vault - The Wolfgang's Vault blog.]

In this, his most recent piece, he tells us how he unexpectedly wrote the lyrics to the Byrds’ song “BB Class Road.”

“The plan was sound and everyone in the band was excited with the prospects. At Skip’s house, Roger said, “We’ll do it quickly and we’ll produce it ourselves—no Terry this time.” Songs began to emerge, not necessarily shared creations, but individual works from each member. They were writing at home and on the road.

“Hey, Dinky,” Gene said one night after a show. “We should do a song about roadies. I mean, every band has ‘em but no one, except us musicians, really know and appreciate what you guys do for us.”

“Well, mate,” I said thoughtfully, “maybe we can do that.” A few beers later, we had an idea—I scribbled some lyrics down on an envelope and Gene started humming a blues tune.

We had a great laugh and then I forgot about it. Meanwhile, the other band members began rehearsing their new songs intensively.

To read the rest of Dinky Dawson’s “1971 Byrds: Dinky Pens ‘BB Class Roads,’” click here.

You can also check out Dinky Dawson’s Dawson Sound collection of live recordings, featuring crystal clear, rare recordings of Bo Didley, Linda Ronstadt, Elton John, Bonnie Raitt, The Byrds, and many more by clicking here.

[My Life Is The Road: 1971 Byrds: Dinky Pens “BB Class Road” is a post in From the Vault - The Wolfgang's Vault blog.]

In Part I of his look at health care, Wyman introduces us to Lou Thomas, the author of the song “Noinsuranceland” and one of the many American musicians who was without health care and one accident away from financial Armageddon. The story centers around the bassist/songwriter/singer’s torn ACL that almost wiped him out completely.

In Part II, Wyman breaks down some of the jargon surrounding the debate. What does these words really mean, and how are they going to effect us going forward.

“When the insurance finally started, Thomas got the MRI, had the surgery he needed, and was forced into an unpaid month out of work to recover. ‘At this point, I had about five different agencies sending me bills: The surgeon, the surgery center, the anesthesiologists, the MRI, the physical therapist. One bill alone, for the surgery center I believe, after insurance, was still about $6,000, which at first they expected me to pay in three months. (No one told me this until after the surgery. Even at the surgery, a receptionist told me they would come up with an affordable payment plan and not to worry.) When you make barely more than minimum wage, and just had to take over a month off work, paying over $2000/month in medical bills was not going to work out.’”

To read Part I of Howard Wyman’s look at health care — “NoInsuranceLand: The Health Care Music Scene” — click here.

“It’s an interesting catch-22, in that so much art (music especially) resonates with people because they relate it to their own grind-intensive lives, even as society turns its back on those musicians trying to escape said grind in order to make the art that helps society deal with it. As such, most musicians (and fans) are left out of the debate, armed only with points about morals and ethics but lacking the competitive, big-picture agenda needed to sway “patriots,” captains of industry and others in power. Day by day as the health care debate rages on, we, the un-indoctrinated music lovers, are basically reduced to just sitting with baited breath, scanning the headlines, waiting to see who will make good on an ex-beauty queen’s flailing dementia, rising to the occasion of the low-hanging fruit she dangled out from that undeserved podium.”

To read Part II of Howard Wyman’s look at health care — “Part II: A Fakebook for the Health Care Debate” — click here.

[How does the health care debate affect the musician and the music fan? is a post in From the Vault - The Wolfgang's Vault blog.]

Denise Sullivan explores the deep importance of Lead Belly’s music in the shaping of what we know now as rock ‘n’ roll.

“I’m obsessed with him. He’s my favorite performer,” said Kurt Cobain. “No Lead Belly, no Beatles,” claimed George Harrison, and the same may as well be said for Led Zeppelin, as Jimmy Page was rocking “Cotton Fields” back in 1957. According to Van Morrison, “If it wasn’t for Lead Belly, I may never have been here.” And yet, Lead Belly—born Huddie Ledbetter near Mooringsport, Louisiana in 1888—is rarely the first traditional American musician historians credit with the creation of rock ‘n’ roll or the bands of the British Invasion. His contribution to rock is as fundamental and profound as those of Robert Johnson and Muddy Waters, so why is it we don’t hear that much anymore about his legend?

Read the rest of Denise Sullivan’s piece on Lead Belly.

[Hey Lead Belly, Bam Ba Lam is a post in From the Vault - The Wolfgang's Vault blog.]

“Who the fuck brought this gear in here?!!”

I quickly ran over to the source of the racket.

“What the fuck is going on? What’s wrong with my fucking gear?” Bill Graham was yelling and gesturing at everyone. “Who the fuck owns this stuff?”

“That would be me,” I said, cheerfully. “Nothing wrong with your gear, sir, but the Byrds require a STEREO system.”

“Well, fuck me! Stereo? Fuck the stereo, this isn’t safe! And it takes up fucking space, people space, goddamn it!”

I was about to respond in kind when Jimmi came running over. “Whoa,” he said, “let’s go for a walk.”

If you are a fan of classic rock, Dinky’s stuff is an absolute revelation, as it takes you inside the personalities and idiosyncrasies of some of the era’s finest musicians and most important figures.

To read the rest of Byrds For Gearheads and discover more of Dinky Dawson’s fantastic work, click here.

We also have audio from the Byrds recorded that very year at the Fillmore.

[My Life Is The Road: Byrds For Gearheads is a post in From the Vault - The Wolfgang's Vault blog.]

Crawdaddy!’s Howard Wyman got to sit down with Browne’s heavyweight lawyer Lawrence Iser to give us the inside track into what really happened.

“When the Ohio Republican Party created an audiovisual attack ad using Jackson Browne’s “Running on Empty” to mock Obama’s proposed energy policies, however, they had finally gone just a step too far. It was a step from shameless disrespect to — well, shameful disrespect, as it turns out.”

To read the interview about John McCain and Jackson Browne, click here.

[Jackson Browne takes on the GOP…And Wins!!! is a post in From the Vault - The Wolfgang's Vault blog.]