I don't do memorials anymore. As the subheading on the blog says: our mother kills us, our father eats us, we are not in our casket, we are not in the cemetery.
Just in case the quote's not entirely obvious, I meant it as a metaphor for the situation of many lesser known artists. In short, the offended "bones" continue to sing even after death [literal and figurative]...don't they?
Anyway, this tune goes out to Benny Spellman. By all accounts, a good man.
[That's Mr. Spellman doing his well-known basso-profondo bit on this cut]