Tag Archives: Steve Winwood
TOOTH TRAFFIC
Last year I bit off more than I could chew. A brave, but ultimately foolhardy attempt was made to cover all the 1967 albums stored in the Vinyl Connection larder. A couple of dozen LPs made it to the fifty-year table; a very modest selection from the potential number of courses. Some sense of failure […]
IS YOUR DEODORANT STRONG ENOUGH?
Just recently, while introducing an album with significant input from Steve Winwood, (Stomu Yamashta’s GO), I wrote about Terry Hounsome’s Rock Record 7. To illustrate both the intricacies of the book and the impressive count of Winwood appearances, I cited an example of an album not worth pursuing. With self-assurance and confidence, it was noted that […]
ARCING UP
Here is the Steve Winwood story in his song lyrics. At the time of the first solo album in 1977, the tone is one of quiet desperation. Hold on to me when you’re falling When you’re falling down to the ground Hold on to me when you feel like When you feel like you can’t […]
GO SOLO STEVE
PREAMBLE If you are a music fan over a certain age who likes to know stuff, chances are you have a few kilograms of rock reference books. There’s the large format, glossy-pictured one given to you on some forgotten birthday by a well-meaning family member that looks great but has not one solitary bit of […]
HIGH-HEELED BOYS
Continuing a survey of the remarkable career of Steve Winwood PART III Setting up a colourful tent at the English folk-rock fayre, John Barleycorn Must Die, with its linocut sheath of grain picture and earthy brown sleeve, was a heady brew of rock, folk and jazz influences that sounds remarkably fresh to this day. Opening […]
SMILING PHASES
STEVE WINWOOD How do you approach the catalogue of an artist active over many decades in several different outfits who has a substantial solo output to boot? That’s the question I’ve been pondering, on and off, since a blogmate expressed interest in reading a little about the career of one of the great rock singers, […]
WENT TO SEE A STANDING STONE
I like to think I was a druid in a previous life. It’s not about the hooded robe or doing despicable things to small furry animals. No, it’s about Neolithic megaliths. You know, standing stones. Yep, if it wasn’t for the absence of sanitation, decent food and (most importantly) electricity, I’d be an enthusiastic candidate […]
