Robert Baird

Sure, it’s warm here at a time when the northeast is still chilly. Added to that, you can willingly drown yourself in music. Over five days and nights, somewhere north of 2200 bands, solos and everything in between take their shots. And of course it’s always good see friends and colleagues in what is left of both the music and publishing businesses.

Maybe it’s the sound. Or the way it looks slung around your neck. Or its mystical appeal to females, but the appeal of the electric guitar has been there literally from its invention in the early 1930s.

Back before the ring-a-ding-ding Reprise records, where the brass blew and the fingers snapped, Francis Albert made a lot of overtly sad records for Capitol.

There’s a recent recording project that I have to say exemplifies that hard as it is to believe, there are still human hearts beating in the biz.