#greatest hits 1971

[fleetwoodmacarthistory]

The Fall Of The Rebel Angels (cropped) by Sebastiano Richie // “The Green Manalishi (With The Two Prong Crown)” by Fleetwood Mac

[1976desire]

ad for bob dylan's greatest hits volume ii, 1971.

[soulmusicsongs]

My Sweet Lord - The God Squad Featuring Leonard Caston (Jesus Christ Greatest Hits, 1971)

[musicandoldmovies]

Eagles - One of these Nights (live version)

From the album "Their Greatest Hits 1971-1975"

[theflashjaygarrick]

It's a missed opportunity that despite Roy Harper and Jason Todd hanging out now there's been never any tension between about them or exploration of their differing approaches and perspectives on the drug crisis. Particularly because for both of them it is deeply personal.

Roy Harper.

Roy became addicted to drugs in the 1971 comic Snowbirds Don't Fly which was Neil Adam’s and Dennis O'neill's attempt to tackle the "youth's greatest problem!" drug use and addiction. I feel like all most people know is that Speedy took drugs and Ollie took it badly, but that honestly ignores the whole point of the story. The story challenged contextual stigma around addiction and drug use as a personal failing or something that only happened to weak people. It explored how it could happen to anyone, even a hero like Speedy. It focused on the social factors such as racism and poverty and how they push people into substance abuse as a way to cope. It even turns the trope of the evil foreign drug cartel on its head by making the guy behind the drug supply a wealthy white American man in who runs a Pharmaceutical company, doesn't do drugs, and actively mocks the people he profits off the suffering of.

The point therefore is twofold. Firstly, drug users are people just like you and me and it is vital to be compassionate to people struggling with addiction. Ollie who yells at and hits Roy and leaves him due to anger and fear is clearly in the wrong. Hal and Dinah who look after Roy and stand beside him at his friend's funeral and as he confronts Ollie are clearly in the right. Secondly, the solution is not to focus on the drugs but instead to deal with the systemic problems of inequality, oppression, trauma and disenfranchised youth.

Despite parts of it ageing bad (the use of slurs was to demonstrate the damage of racism, but I feel uncomfortable having slurs uncensored in a comic book written by white authors) it is a surprisingly progressive take on addiction for a mainstream 70s DC comic. It also clearly demonstrates Roy's opinion on the drug problem and how to deal with it. He sees anger and going after dealers/manufacturers (like Ollie did) to not be enough. Instead the real change comes from helping the people in that situation by improving their lives and compassionately helping them at their worst.

Enter Jason Todd.

For context Jason Todd has had almost his entire life shaped by trauma of substance abuse. His (adoptive) mother Catherine struggled with addiction and overdosed just months before he met Batman, effectively orphaning him. Soon after he was found by Batman who essentially drafted him into his crusade on crime, not considering that being a vigilante may be potentially damaging for an already traumatised child.

But when he came back in UTRH he decided he could best help Gotham if he killed (largely non-costumed) criminals and controlled the city's criminal underworld himself. After violently assuming control of the drug trade, Jason imposed his own rules for dealers, most famously that he would kill anyone who sold drugs to children or near schools. Later while incarcerated Jason Todd killed 82 Blackgate inmates (and harmed over a hundred) by poisoning the prison food. This mass murder was intrinsically indiscriminate and due to the US prison system it is reasonable to assume people charged with drug offences were included in the death count.

Jason does have deep childhood trauma associated with addiction and drug use and wants to help prevent suffering. That being said, his approach treats drugs as a criminal problem to be eradicated or controlled, not just a symptom of deeper social issues. He kills people who sell drugs to kids, rather than helping building a support system so kids aren't pushed into abusing substances to cope and people don't have to deal to survive.

What does this mean?

Scott Lobdell got details of Roy's addiction wrong and distorted him into a reckless idiot who has been ostracised from the community. But if it was done right their interaction and opposing perspectives/experiences could be really interesting. Both hate drugs and the drug trade, but the way they conceptualise this hatred differs significantly.

Roy focuses on helping the individual and addressing deeper social problems, seeing drugs as a devastating but ultimately symptomatic. Jason sees drug use as first and foremost a criminal issue, with true benefits being achieved through controlling the criminal underworld.

Roy's priority is therefore supporting people struggling with addiction and showing compassion for their situation. Jason doesn't really focus on ways to help the individuals suffering from addiction, as much as mitigating the overall harm and fitting the drug trade into parameters he views as acceptable.

I think it would add needed complexity to their relationship (and to Jason's redemption if we're going that route) as well as dealing with the more 'war-on-drug' elements of UTRH. Also it would help Roy stand on his own as a strong, articulate leader with a dark past rather than being (at least for a while) reduced to essentially Jason's sidekick.

[from-memphis-with-love]

Songbird - Chapter 1 - The International

Summary: The year is 1969. The place, The International Hotel. Aspiring young singer Valerie Pedretti has a chance encounter with Elvis Presley in an elevator that will changer life forever, for both good and bad. Author's Notes: You guys, I am incorrigible. I know. Constantly going back to old fics to reread and retool them. I think I finally got it right this time. If you will indulge, please read from chapter 1 again. I think you'll like it.

To me, 1967-1971 EP is kind of peak Elvis, and so I wanted to write a fic with him smack dab in that time period. In the 1969-1970 period, especially, Elvis was probably the most handsome and alluring man in the galaxy.

Lots of anachronisms and historical inaccuracies in this one, but just roll with it because it's fun! For example: Elvis in real life did not eat seafood but in a later chapter, we find out not only does he eat it but he has an allergy to it. It's for the narrative, I promise. :-)

I based Valerie, in a sense, off of a mixture of Kathy Westmoreland - who I find immensely dry and boring IRL but who had a cool meeting story with Elvis, as well as Joyce Bova and Linda Thompson. Kathy met the real Elvis for the first time in an elevator, and that really inspired this work. Priscilla exists in this universe but she and Elvis get a divorce far earlier than in real life. Theirs, in some ways like real life, is a marriage of convenience and an "arrangement." Lisa Marie does not exist in this universe.

Vegas hit me like a slap in the face with a rhinestone glove. The kind of place that promises you the moon and delivers green cheese, but damn if you don't want to believe in it anyway. My cab rolled down the strip toward the International Hotel, and I pressed my forehead against the window like a kid at a candy store, watching the greatest show on earth scroll by in technicolor.

It was July 1969, just days after Neil Armstrong had bounced around on the moon, and the whole world still felt drunk on the idea that anything was possible. We cruised down the Strip, past Caesar's Palace with its Roman statues standing sentinel in the desert heat, past the Flamingo where Bugsy Siegel’s ghost still lingered, straight toward the International Hotel where my own small shot at glory waited.

I didn't know it yet, but I was about to have what my mother would call A Significant Moment. The kind that divides your life into Before and After, like a vinyl record with its A and B sides. But right then, all I knew was that I was tired, my clothes were a disaster, and I was woefully unprepared for tomorrow's audition.

The audition. Good lord, let's not even go there yet.

I pressed my forehead against the cool glass, watching sequined showgirls and sailors on shore leave blur past in a kaleidoscope of color. The radio was playing "In the Year 2525," and somewhere in the city, Frank Sinatra was preparing for another show. The same Frank Sinatra I'd be auditioning for tomorrow, assuming I didn't die of nerves first.

The cabbie jerked to the curb in front of the International. "That'll be four-fifty, miss." I handed him a wrinkled five and stepped out into air so hot it felt like opening an oven door. The scene that greeted me stopped me dead in my tracks.

The place was absolute bedlam. Not your usual Vegas chaos either – this was something else entirely. The International Hotel lobby looked like Elvis Presley had exploded all over it. You know those old Bible pictures of saints with the beams of light shooting out of them? Picture that, but with pompadours and rhinestones. His face was everywhere - posters, cardboard cutouts, even pins that said "I ❤️ ELVIS" in letters that could probably be seen from space.

Crowds of women with hair teased higher than their hopes pressed against velvet ropes, many of them clutching signs that said things like "Elvis We Love You" and "Marry Me EP!" Some were crying. Actually crying, their mascara running in black rivers down their cheeks. Security guards with arms like Christmas hams tried to maintain order, while vendors worked the crowd selling everything from buttons to teddy bears to – I kid you not – little vials of water supposedly blessed by the man himself. 

That's when it hit me. This wasn't just any weekend at the International. This was the kickoff of Elvis Presley's big comeback residency. Ground zero for Elvis-mania.

"Well, shit," I muttered, suddenly feeling like the universe's favorite cosmic joke. Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, I had to walk into the one where the King was holding court.

The lobby was even worse. The air was thick with cigarette smoke and Aqua Net, and somewhere a speaker was playing "Love Me Tender" like it was heavenly muzak. I'd never quite understood the hysteria around Elvis. Sure, he was handsome in his own way, but what was it about him that made grown women act like teenagers?

I caught my reflection in one of the many mirrors and winced. My dark curls had gone feral in the desert heat, my mascara was smudged, and the coffee stain on my blouse looked even worse under the chandelier lights. I looked exactly like what I was – a girl who'd spent six hours trapped on a delayed flight from Chicago, stress-eating Oreos and reading the same magazine until the pages wore thin.

The blonde behind the check-in desk was reading Variety when I approached. Her name tag said BRENDA but her expression said DON'T BOTHER ME.

"Checking in?" she asked without looking up. "Name?"

"Reservation should be under Deena Lovelace."

That got her attention. Her penciled eyebrows shot up as she gave me a head-to-toe assessment that left frost on her glasses. "You're Deena? The one auditioning for Sinatra tomorrow? We spoke on the phone, remember?"

I gritted my teeth into what I hoped passed for a smile. "No, actually. I'm Valerie. Deena's friend. She's sick, so I'm filling in."

Brenda's look could have frozen hell over, but she handed me a key. "Room 2806. If you need anything, ask for Hector."

A bellhop materialized – Hector himself, I assumed – reaching for my bags. I waved him off with what turned out to be misplaced confidence. "I can manage."

The thing about the International Hotel was that it had been designed by someone who believed strongly in giving guests the full maze experience. Every corridor looked identical, with the same gold-flecked mirrors and deep crimson carpet. The crowds thinned out as I wandered deeper into the building's heart, the sounds of Elvis-mania fading to a distant hum.

My feet were screaming bloody murder in my go-go boots. My arms ached from dragging my overpacked suitcases. And my chances of actually finding room 2806 seemed about as likely as Elvis himself appearing to give me directions.

I ended up in a quiet hallway that felt different from the others. The carpet was thicker here, the lighting softer, the wood paneling probably worth more than my car. Even the air felt expensive. I should have realized I'd wandered into restricted territory, but by then my dogs were barking so loud I couldn't think straight.

The elevator, when I found it, was elegant in an understated way – all dark wood and soft lighting. No bright brass or mirrors like the tourist elevators. I was too tired to question my good fortune. I kicked off my boots, letting my screaming feet sink into that plush carpet, and started humming without thinking. It was an old lullaby my mother used to sing, the kind that lives in your bones and comes out when your guard is down.

The elevator arrived with a soft ding. I dragged my bags inside and slumped against the wall, already dreaming of a hot bath and a soft bed. The doors started to close and I was finally alone. Or I thought I was. Then a hand shot out—a big hand with rings that could double as brass knuckles—and stopped the doors.

Remember what I said about Significant Moments? This was mine, walking into that elevator in a black suit that probably cost more than my yearly salary, with a pink silk scarf at his throat and eyes bluer than a Minnesota winter behind tinted glasses. They looked at me and saw everything.

Elvis Presley. The King himself.

Time seemed to slow down, the way it does in dreams or car crashes. The man who stepped into that elevator made the air change – made everything change. You know how people talk about electricity crackling between two people? I'd always thought that was just romance novel nonsense. I was wrong.

He wasn't alone—a redheaded man built like a brick wall stood beside him, hand resting on what I was pretty sure was a gun. But it was Elvis who filled that elevator like smoke from a Tennessee cigarette, making everything else fade into background noise.

You know how sometimes you think you understand something, but then you realize you didn't understand it at all? That's how it was with Elvis's fame. I'd never been one of those screaming fans, never understood what all the fuss was about. But standing there in that elevator, watching him smile at me like he had all the secrets to the universe tucked behind those perfect teeth, I got it. Boy, did I get it.

"You've had a long day, honey.” His voice was pure Memphis nightclub, smooth as whiskey and twice as intoxicating. It seemed to bypass my ears entirely and go straight to parts of my anatomy that had no business responding to a stranger's voice that way.

I said yes and no and then yes again. My heart was doing double time, and I could feel my pulse in my fingertips. Every nerve ending seemed suddenly, acutely aware of his presence.

He smiled then, and it was like watching the sun come up. My knees actually wobbled. I finally understood why they put velvet ropes between Elvis and his fans. That man was a lethal weapon.

"The beds here are good," he said. Even the way he leaned against the elevator wall was poetry, all controlled power and casual grace.

I looked at the ceiling because I could not look at him. My stomach moved in ways it should not move. The elevator felt smaller somehow, the air between us alive with possibility.

"Pardon my manners," he said, and even that slight motion sent another wave of his cologne my way. "I'm Elvis, and this here's my pal Red. Who might you be?"

"Valerie," I managed, my voice barely more than a whisper. I was achingly conscious of how close he was, how the silk of his suit caught the light when he moved.

"Val-e-rie." He drew out each syllable like he was tasting them, turning my plain-Jane name into something rich and strange. The way his mouth shaped the sounds made my stomach flip. "A pretty name for a pretty little songbird."

The pet name caught me off guard until I remembered – the humming. He'd heard me humming while I waited for the elevator. Heat crept up my neck. His eyes hadn't left my face, and I could feel that gaze like a physical touch.

"I got ears like a well-tuned radar dish," he said, as if reading my mind. Each word seemed to hover in the air between us. "In town for a show?"

"An audition," I admitted, trying to ignore how my skin tingled every time he shifted position. "For Sinatra's show. I'm... I'm filling in for a friend."

Something flickered in his expression. "That right?" His gaze swept over me again, slower this time, more deliberate. It felt like being touched by velvet. "And what will you be singing for Ol' Blue Eyes?"

I gave him my prepared answer about standards and medleys, trying not to let on that I barely knew the material. His lips curved into something that wasn't quite a smile but made my stomach drop like I'd missed a step going downstairs.

"A classic set list. You'll do great, honey."

The elevator slowed to a stop. Elvis moved past me toward the door, so close that the fabric of his suit jacket brushed my arm. That brief contact sent electricity skating across my skin. His cologne – something spicy and smoky – wrapped around me like an embrace. He paused in the doorway to look back at me and his eyes were dark and full of something I did not understand but wanted to.

"Knock ‘em dead, songbird."

Then he was gone, leaving nothing but that spicy scent and the memory of blue eyes that seemed to see right through me. I sagged against the elevator wall, my knees finally giving up the fight against gravity.

Now I understood. God help me, did I understand. All those screaming girls, all those tears and Elvis-induced hysteria – it made perfect sense. The real thing, in person, was like staring into the sun. No wonder women fainted.

I made it to my room on autopilot, barely registering the route. Inside, I face-planted onto the bed, my mind spinning like a 45 on a turntable. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw him – the way he'd looked at me, the curve of his smile, the way he'd said my name like he was savoring it. The memory of his cologne lingered in my nose, and my arm still tingled where his jacket had brushed it.

I'd come to Vegas to audition for Sinatra. I'd come to maybe, finally, make something of myself. I hadn't come to get turned inside out by Elvis Presley in an elevator.

That night, I lay on the bed and thought about his eyes and his voice and the way he moved. I did not want to think about these things but they came anyway.

I knew then that Vegas would be different than I had planned. The elevator had changed everything. But that is how it is with elevators and beautiful men who wear rings and pink silk. They change things. And you can only ride up or down and see where they take you. Taglist: @whositmcwhatsit  @ellie-24  @arrolyn1114 @missmaywemeetagain  @be-my-ally  @vintageshanny  @prompted-wordsmith @precious-little-scoundrel @peskybedtime @lookingforrainbows @austinbutlersgirl67@lala1267 @thatbanditqueen @dontcrydaddy @lovingdilfs @elvispresleygf @plasticfantasticl0ver @ab4eva @presleysweetheart @chasingwildflowers @elvispresleywife @uh-all-shook-up @xxquinnxx @edgeofrealitys-blog@velvetprvsley @woundmetender @avengen @richardslady121 @presleyhearted @kendralavon7 @18lkpeters@lookingforrainbows @elvisalltheway101 @sissylittlefeather @eliseinmemphis@tacozebra051 @thetaoofzoe @peskybedtime @shakerattlescroll @crash-and-cure @ccab @i-r-i-n-a-a @devilsflowerr@dirtyelvisfant4sy @elvislittleone @foreverdolly @getyourpresleyfix@gayforelvis @headfullofpresley @h0unds-of-h3ll @hipshakingkingcreole @p0lksaladannie @doll-elvis @tacozebra051 @richardslady121 @jaqueline19997 @myradiaz@livelaughelvis @deke-rivers-1957 @jhoneybees @atleastpleasetelephone @eapep @elvispresleywife @that-hotdog @landlockedmermaid77 @sissylittlefeather @kawaiiwitchy

[cartermagazine]

Today In History

Leroy “Satchel” Paige, baseball legend, was named all-time outstanding player by the National Baseball Congress on this date January 30, 1965.

Satchel was a legend in both the Negro League and Major League Baseball. He was the first player from the Negro League to be elected into the Baseball Hall of Fame in 1971.

Leroy “Satchel” Paige, maybe the greatest pitcher baseball ever knew, lives on in the stories of the men who hit – or tried to hit – a man who was still a star long after most players had left the limelight.

CARTER™️ Magazine

[justforbooks]

Kris Kristofferson

Songwriter, singer and actor known for such classic hits as For the Good Times and Me and Bobby McGee

‘Songwriter” might be the first term that springs to mind to describe Kris Kristofferson, who has died aged 88, but he could also lay claim to being a singer, film star, soldier and academic. Highly cerebral yet also a rugged man of action, Kristofferson was from the same fine tradition of robust American individualists as his friends Johnny Cash and Sam Peckinpah.

Kristofferson’s greatest successes as a singer-songwriter came during the 1970s, especially with the albums The Silver Tongued Devil and I (1971), Border Lord (1972) and Jesus Was a Capricorn (1972), all big country hits that also crossed over to the pop album charts. However, before he achieved recognition as a performer, Kristofferson was already renowned as a supplier of hit songs to other artists.

His first to chart was Vietnam Blues, recorded by Dave Dudley in 1966, but the ball really started rolling when Roger Miller recorded three Kristofferson songs for his album Roger Miller (1969). One of them was Me and Bobby McGee, the bittersweet story of a pair of lovers and their life on the road, and Miller took it into the country music Top 20. Partly inspired by the Federico Fellini film La Strada (1954), it would become one of Kristofferson’s most covered songs.

Then Ray Stevens charted with Sunday Mornin’ Comin’ Down, the desolate alcoholic’s lament that would be a hit for Cash the following year, Faron Young took Your Time’s Comin’ into the country Top 5, and Jerry Lee Lewis followed suit with Once More With Feeling.

The Kristofferson magic also worked for Ray Price, who took For the Good Times to a country No 1 and the pop Top 20 in 1970, while Sammi Smith scored a pop Top 10 hit with Help Me Make It Through the Night. By the time Janis Joplin’s cover of Me and Bobby McGee topped the pop charts in March 1971, several months after Joplin’s death, Kristofferson (who had had a brief affair with the troubled singer) had become one of the hottest songwriting names in Nashville.

His debut album, Kristofferson, had gone nowhere following its April 1970 release, even though it contained songs being made into hits by other singers, and despite Kristofferson’s appearance at the vast Isle of Wight festival that year. But after he turned the corner commercially with Silver Tongued Devil, the first album was reissued as Me and Bobby McGee – and earned him a gold record. In 1972, several of his songs were nominated for Grammys, and he won Best Country Song for Help Me Make It Through the Night.

By the time Jesus Was a Capricorn had topped the country charts in 1973, boosted by the crossover hit single Why Me, Kristofferson’s attention had turned towards acting. He had already appeared in Dennis Hopper’s chaotic The Last Movie (1971) and played a down-and-out musician in Cisco Pike (1972), and now it was his connection with Peckinpah that pushed his movie career into high gear.

Peckinpah cast him as Billy the Kid in Pat Garrett and Billy the Kid (1973), in which Bob Dylan had an acting role and supplied songs for the soundtrack, and he worked with Peckinpah again on Bring Me the Head of Alfredo Garcia (1974) and Convoy (1978).

In 1973 Kristofferson married the singer Rita Coolidge (his second wife) and the couple scored a big pop and country hit with their first duet album, Full Moon, which delivered a batch of hit singles including the Grammy-winning From the Bottle to the Bottom. They enjoyed further success with the albums Breakaway (1974) and Natural Act (1978).

Meanwhile, Kristofferson had starred in Martin Scorsese’s first Hollywood studio production, the romantic comedy Alice Doesn’t Live Here Anymore (1974), with Ellen Burstyn. Two years later he soared into blockbuster heaven when paired with Barbra Streisand in the remake of A Star Is Born (their on-screen relationship continued off-screen). It was bludgeoned by critics but earned $150m at the box office, and brought Kristofferson a Golden Globe for best actor.

Coolidge and Kristofferson divorced in 1980. Coolidge commented acidly: “I can’t say enough about what a great man he was. It’s just that he was a shitty husband ... He was a very toxic human being with all his drinking and his womanising.”

Kristofferson, discussing how he had idolised the country singer Hank Williams, commented that “most of the heroes in that vein have been pretty self-destructive, and I was myself for a while. I used to drink a lot just to get up on the stage. I did not have a lot of confidence at the beginning.” He stopped drinking alcohol in 1980, after his doctor warned him that he was killing himself.

His leading role as Jim Averill in Heaven’s Gate (1980) ought to have been a crowning triumph for Kristofferson, but Michael Cimino’s portentous western became a byword for wastefulness and excess, and bankrupted United Artists studios. He enjoyed only modest success with Flashpoint (1984) and co-starred the same year with Willie Nelson in Songwriter, for which he wrote several songs, winning an Academy Award nomination for original music score. He and Nelson released the successful duo album Music from Songwriter.

During the 90s he experienced a revival after appearing as a corrupt sheriff in John Sayles’s Lone Star (1996). This led to parts in a string of successful big-budget films including Payback (1999), Planet of the Apes (2001) and the Blade trilogy (1998, 2002 and 2004).

Kristofferson was born in the city of Brownsville, Texas. He was the eldest of three children of Mary Ann Ashbrook and Lars Kristofferson, an air force pilot who rose to the rank of major general. The military life took the family to California, where Kris graduated from San Mateo high school in 1954, then studied creative writing at Pomona College.

He won first prize in a short story competition sponsored by the literary magazine the Atlantic Monthly, and was also recognised by Sports Illustrated for his many achievements in football and athletics during his time as a student.

Later, he was awarded a Rhodes scholarship to Merton College, Oxford University, and it was in the UK that he began performing his own songs. He fell into the orbit of the “beat svengali” Larry Parnes, who secured him some recording sessions (under the name Kris Carson) with Top Rank records and the producer Tony Hatch.

Fortunately, perhaps, Parnes failed to turn him into the next Tommy Steele, and after receiving his master’s degree in English literature in 1960 – he also won a boxing blue while at Oxford – Kristofferson returned to the US.

It was not long before he was back in Europe. Having married Fran Beer in 1960, he joined the US army, became a helicopter pilot and was assigned to West Germany. He continued to write and perform music, forming a band with some fellow servicemen. One of his comrades was a cousin of the Nashville songwriter Marijohn Wilkin, who gave Kristofferson’s work a favourable report when he sent her some of his songs. After completing his tour of duty in 1965 with the rank of captain, he was offered a post at West Point military academy as an English instructor.

However, he took a trip to the city of Nashville to visit Wilkin, which persuaded him to quit the army and devote his efforts to becoming a country music songwriter. He earned a small stipend from a deal with Wilkin’s music publishing company, Buckhorn Music, and worked at various jobs, including flying helicopters to oil rigs in the Gulf of Mexico and taking on a job as a studio janitor.

He was working at Columbia Records’ Nashville studios when Dylan came to town to record his album Blonde on Blonde (1966), and it was here that Kristofferson first met Cash, who would become a staunch friend and supporter.

“John would tell everybody in town that Mickey Newbury and I were the best songwriters around,” Kristofferson remembered. “For me, to be endorsed by someone like Cash was really something, like being endorsed by Dylan.”

Kristofferson’s increasingly left-leaning political sympathies were expressed in his album Repossessed (1987), which gave him a hit single with They Killed Him (a tribute to Gandhi, Christ and Martin Luther King), and he appeared in the television miniseries Amerika (1987), which portrayed a US under communist domination. Another politically slanted album, Third World Warrior (1990), failed to chart.

In 1985, Kristofferson and Nelson banded together with Cash and Waylon Jennings to record Highwayman, and both the album and title song were popular country chart-toppers. This gathering of charismatic and much loved country greats became known as the Highwaymen, and enjoyed further success both as a touring act and with the albums Highwaymen 2 (1990) and The Road Goes on Forever (1995).

Kristofferson completed a hat-trick of albums with the producer Don Was, This Old Road (2006), Closer to the Bone (2009) and Feeling Mortal (2013). His final studio album was The Cedar Creek Sessions (2016), which was nominated for a Grammy award for best Americana album.

After several years of suffering from memory loss that doctors believed was caused by Alzheimer’s disease, in February 2016 Kristofferson at last received a diagnosis of Lyme disease. Following appropriate treatment, his condition improved markedly. “It’s like Lazarus coming out of the grave and being born again,” commented his friend the Nashville singer-songwriter Chris Gantry.

In November 2018, he performed Joni Mitchell’s A Case of You at Both Sides Now – Joni 75: A Birthday Celebration, which marked Mitchell’s 75th birthday. He gave his final full-scale live performance at the Sunrise theatre in the city of Fort Pierce, Florida, in 2020.

Having previously been inducted into the Nashville Songwriters Hall of Fame (1977) and the Songwriters Hall of Fame (1985), he was embraced by the Country Music Hall of Fame in 2004, and in 2006 won the Johnny Mercer award from the Songwriters Hall of Fame.

He once said that he wanted the first three lines of Leonard Cohen’s Bird on the Wire on his tombstone:

Like a bird on the wire Like a drunk in a midnight choir I have tried in my way to be free

He is survived by his third wife, Lisa Meyers, whom he married in 1983, and their daughter, Kelly Marie, and sons, Jesse, Jody, Johnny and Blake; by a daughter, Casey, from his second marriage; and by a daughter, Tracy, and a son, Kris, from his first marriage, which ended in divorce.

🔔 Kristoffer Kristofferson, songwriter, singer and actor, born 22 June 1936; died 28 September 2024

Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at Just for Books…?

[wildandmoody]

GROUP: Various R&B, Soul, Disco, etc.

The Four Tops - Reach Out (w Motown "The Sound of Young America" Catalogue inner sleeve) (1967)

The O'Jays - Family Reunion (inner flap picture on the right) (1975)

Heatwave - Central Heating (1978)

Donna Summer - On The Radio: Greatest Hits Volumes 1 & 2 (1979)

Anita Baker - Rapture (1986)

Third World - Hold On To Love (1987)

GROUP: Various Stuff I Couldn't Fit Into Other Groups

Jethro Tull - Aqualung (1971)

Blondie - Eat to the Beat (1979)

Into Battle with the Art of Noise (1983)

Bob James - Sign of the Times (1981)

Prince & The Revolution - Purple Rain (1984) (2017 Rerelease)

Amy Winehouse - Back to Black (2006)

[fleetwoodmacarthistory]

Alexander Pushkin in a Park by Valentin Serov // “Man of the World” by Fleetwood Mac

[21stcenturyschizoidcat]

Fleetwood Mac: timeline

1967

Lineup:

Peter Green: Vocals, Guitar

Jeremy Spencer: Vocals, Guitar

Bob Brunning: Bass

Mick Fleetwood: Drums

Single: I Believe My Time Ain't Long / Rambling Pony

Peter Green: Guitar, Vocals, Harmonica

Jeremy Spencer: Guitar, Vocals, Piano

John McVie: Bass

Mick Fleetwood: Drums

1968

Album: Fleetwood Mac

Single: Black Magic Woman/The Sun Is Shining

Album: Mr. Wonderful (feat. Christine McVie and Horns)

Single: Need Your Love So Bad

Peter Green: Vocals, Guitar, Harmonica, Cello, Bass, Percussion

Danny Kirwan: Vocals, Guitar

Jeremy Spencer: Guitar, Vocals, Percussion, Piano

John McVie: Bass

Mick Fleetwood: Drums, Percussion

Single: Albatross/Jigsaw Puzzle Blues

Compilation: English Rose (US only)

1969

Compilation: The Pious Bird of Good Omen

Single: Man of the World/Somebody's Gonna Get Their Head Kicked In Tonite (As Earl Vance and the Valliants)

Album: Then Play On

Single: Oh Well (Pts. I & II)

Album: Blues Jam At Chess

1970

Single: The Green Manalishi (With The Two Prong Crown) / World In Harmony

Danny Kirwan: Vocals, Guitar

Jeremy Spencer: Vocals, Guitar, Piano

John McVie: Bass

Mick Fleetwood: Drums, Percussion

Album: Kiln House

Danny Kirwan: Vocals, Guitar

Jeremy Spencer: Guitar, Vocals

Christine McVie: Keyboards, Vocals

John McVie: Bass

Mick Fleetwood: Drums, Percussion

1971

Single: Dragonfly/The Purple Dancer

Danny Kirwan: Guitar, Vocals

Bob Welch: Guitar, Vocals

Christine McVie: Keyboards, Vocals

John McVie: Bass

Mick Fleetwood: Drums, Percussion

Album: Future Games

1972

Album: Bare Trees

1973

Bob Welch: Guitar, Vocals

Bob Weston: Guitar, Banjo

Dave Walker: Vocals, Harmonica

Christine McVie: Keyboards, Vocals

John McVie: Bass

Mick Fleetwood: Drums, Percussion

Album: Penguin

Bob Welch: Guitar, Vocals

Bob Weston: Guitar

Christine McVie: Keyboards, Vocals

John McVie: Bass

Mick Fleetwood: Drums, Percussion

Album: Mystery To Me

1974

Bob Welch: Guitar, Vocals

Christine McVie: Keyboards, Vocals

John McVie: Bass

Mick Fleetwood: Drums, Percussion

Album: Heroes are Hard to Find

1975

Lindsey Buckingham: Guitar, Vocals, Banjo, Bass, Keys, Drums

Stevie Nicks: Vocals, Percussion, piano

Christine McVie: Keyboards, Vocals

John McVie: Bass

Mick Fleetwood: Drums, Percussion

Album: Fleetwood Mac

1976

Single: Go Your Own Way/Silver Springs

1977

Album: Rumours

1979

Album: Tusk

1980

Live Album: Live

1982

Album: Mirage

1987

Album: Tango In The Night

1988

Stevie Nicks: Vocals

Billy Burnette: Guitar, Vocals

Rick Vito: Guitar, Vocals

Christine McVie: Keyboards, Vocals

John McVie: Bass

Mick Fleetwood: Drums, Percussion, Spoken Word

Compilation: Greatest Hits

1990

Album: Behind The Mask

Billy Burnette: Guitar, Vocals

Christine McVie: Keyboards, Vocals

John McVie: Bass

Mick Fleetwood: Drums, Percussion

1992

Single: Love Shines

Single: Paper Doll (Recorded '88)

1993

Billy Burnette: Guitar, Vocals

Dave Mason: Guitar, Vocals

Bekka Bramlett: Vocals

Christine McVie: Keyboards, Vocals

John McVie: Bass

Mick Fleetwood: Drums, Percussion, Spoken Word

1995

Album: Time

1997

Lindsey Buckingham: Guitar, Vocals

Stevie Nicks: Vocals, Percussion

Christine McVie: Keyboards, Vocals

John McVie: Bass

Mick Fleetwood: Drums, Percussion

Live Album: The Dance

1998

Lindsey Buckingham: Guitar, Vocals, Keyboard, Bass, Percussion

Stevie Nicks: Vocals, Keyboard

John McVie: Bass

Mick Fleetwood: Drums, Percussion

2003

Album: Say You Will

2013

EP: Extended Play

2014

Lindsey Buckingham: Guitar, Vocals, Keyboard, Bass, Percussion

Stevie Nicks: Vocals, Percussion

Christine McVie: Keyboards, Vocals

John McVie: Bass

Mick Fleetwood: Drums, Percussion

2017

Album: Lindsey Buckingham/Christine McVie (Sans Stevie Nicks, as Lindsey Buckingham/Christine McVie)

2018

Stevie Nicks: Vocals, Percussion

Neil Finn: Guitar, Vocals

Mike Campbell: Guitar, Vocals

Christine McVie: Keyboards, Vocals

John McVie: Bass

Mick Fleetwood: Drums, Percussion

2022

Christine McVie died of a stroke on November 30. Fleetwood Mac concludes.

[soulmusicsongs]

Oh Happy Day - The God Squad Featuring Leonard Caston (Jesus Christ Greatest Hits, 1971)

[musicandoldmovies]

Eagles - Their Greatest Hits 1971-1975

[posttexasstressdisorder]

One of The Temptations' greatest records. This is one of those songs and 45s that made 1971 such an incredibly unique and singular year in the annals of Rock.

And this, their Psychedlic Psychodrama Tour de Force from the next year:

Both were preceeded by this blockbuster, in 1970:

Three monster hits, three years in a row. Legendary for a reason!

[hooked-on-elvis]

"If I Were You" (1971)

Written for Elvis by Gerald Nelson*, Elvis recorded the song on June 8, 1971 at the RCA’s Studio B Nashville. His recording of "If I Were You" was released in the album "Love Letter's From Elvis" on June 16, 1971.

Guitar: James Burton, Chip Young, Elvis Presley. Bass: Norbert Putnam. Drums: Jerry Carrigan. Piano: David Briggs. Organ & Harmonica: Charlie McCoy. OVERDUBS, Guitar: James Burton. Organ: David Briggs. Percussion: Jerry Carrigan. Percussion & Vibes: Farrell Morris. Steel Guitar: Weldon Myrick. Trumpet: Charlie McCoy, George Tidwell, Don Sheffield, Glenn Baxter. Saxophone: Wayne Butler, Norman Ray. Flute, Saxophone & Clarinet: Skip Lane. Trombone: Gene Mullins. Flute & Trombone: William Puett. Vocals: Mary Holladay, Mary (Jeannie) Green, Dolores Edgin, Ginger Holladay, Millie Kirkham, June Page, Temple Riser, Sonja Montgomery, Joe Babcock, The Jordanaires, The Imperials. Source: elvisthemusic.com

ELVIS, ONE DAY PRIOR TO THE SONG RECORDING: Los Angeles, June 7th 1971

"IF I WERE YOU" LYRICS

The sandman comes to my house late each night But it's way in the morning before he turns out my life It's times like this my darling I can see If I were you I'd know that I love me The great snowman I've been called by all But it looks like this time I'm gonna fall It's times like this my darling I can see Oooh If I were you I'd know that I love me Wind and rain and storm closin' in on me I've walked the streets alone with my self sympathy Can you hear me saying hopefully Oooh If I were you I'd know that I love me Wind and rain and storm closin' in on me I've walked the streets alone with my self sympathy Can you hear me saying hopefully If I were you I'd know that I love me Oooh If I were you I'd know that I love me

Lyricist: Gerald Nelson

* ABOUT THE SONGWRITER: Curiously, "If I Were You" is the only non-soundtrack song Gerald Nelson wrote for the King. According to Nelson, he was asked by Lamar Fike or Freddy Bienstock to write songs for Elvis' movies. Some were chosen and some didn't, naturally. The thing is: given the type of movies Elvis was in, in mid to late 60s, most of the songs Nelson wrote for him had to fulfill a purpose: fit the movie plot. Nelson wrote for Elvis some of the poorest tasted material of the King's music career (needless to say that's on the Hollywood producers), such as the song "Yoga Is As Yoga Does" featured in the soundtrack of the movie "Easy Come, Easy Go" (1967). Even though the songs Gerald Nelson wrote didn't turn out to be (not even close to) greatest hits for Elvis, some had a spotlight of their own, like "Clambake" and "Double Trouble", both title tracks to those 1967 films mentioned.

There's an interview with Gerald Nelson I found in an Elvis Forum. He speaks about what he thinks of the songs he wrote for EP, a little bit about the recording sessions and his reason why he chose to release an album with the demos he taped to send to Elvis' staff.

I thought it might be fun to put together a CD of the original demonstration recordings of songs that I wrote for Elvis Presley. Some he recorded, some he didn’t. He was such a good friend and I respected his friendship so much that I never ask him to record any of my work. Lamar Fike or Freddy Beanstalk put those that he did in his hands. Usually they would send me a script and say: ”Write something for this movie”. For the most part that was either fun or insane. Gerald Nelson, lyricist READ THE FULL 2010 INTERVIEW HERE

In 2003, Gerald Nelson released the album "Songs I Wrote for Elvis" in which demos of the songs he wrote for the King are presented. Below, the demo records of the song “If I Were You”, sung by Gerald Nelson.

If you'd like to hear the FULL ALBUM to find out which songs Nelson wrote for Elvis or wonder how the King would sound in the ones he didn't, here's a playlist on Youtube.

[just-your-average-tangerine]

Song of the day: September 5 2024

Uptown Girl by Billy Joel

About Billy Joel:

William Martin Joel (born May 9, 1949) is an American singer, songwriter and pianist. Commonly nicknamed the "Piano Man" after his signature 1973 song, Joel has had a successful career as a solo artist since the 1970s. From 1971 to 1993, he released 12 studio albums spanning the genres of pop and rock, and in 2001 released a one-off studio album of classical compositions. Joel is one of the world's best-selling music artists and the fourth-best-selling solo artist in the United States, with over 160 million records sold worldwide. His 1985 compilation album, Greatest Hits – Volume I & Volume II, is one of the best-selling albums in the United States.

(Via Wikipedia)

About Uptown Girl:

“Uptown Girl” is a Billy Joel classic that can be found on 1983’s An Innocent Man. Inspired by Frankie Valli’s “Rag Doll,” its lyrics find a “downtown boy” (lower class) waxing poetic – in his own way – for a girl from a classier upbringing.

The song was written about Joel’s girlfriend at the time, model Elle Macpherson. However, his soon-to-be wife Christie Brinkley is the one who appeared in the song’s music video.

It was internationally successful, reaching the top 20 in eight countries including a #3 peak in the US, and #1 in both New Zealand and the United Kingdom. In the UK, it stayed at the top for five weeks, was the second biggest selling single of the year, and sold over a million copies. Later, it was ranked the 19th biggest selling single of the 1980s in the UK and in 1988, Rolling Stone ranked “Uptown Girl” #99 on their list of the 100 most important singles of the period 1963-1988.

(Via genius.com)