I hear the guitars ringin' out again

Dick Clark died Wednesday, one day before Levon Helm, which means these past few days have triggered a lot of memories for those of us who grew up on rock and roll, pop and country music.

I don't remember when American Bandstand was on TV on a daily basis, but I sure do remember every Saturday afternoon with my brother in our living room, watching "Rate a Record" as he sat on our Davenport. Each week, without fail, we saw everyone from The Lovin'Spoonful and The Grass Roots to Marvin Gaye and Sam and Dave. You have to remember, this was back with three channels and precious few opportunities to see the performers of the music that meant so much to me (and my brother).

Clark was only the non-threatening and safe conduit, but a crucial one in that his presence and importance legitimized rock and roll while attracting the likes of the immortal Sir Douglas Quintet. How long would it have taken for me otherwise to find out that the bunch of misfits responsible for "She's About a Mover" was actually from South Texas and not from England, as their name implied.

Dick Clark, who would go to build an entertainment empire, provided a vital and incredibly meaningful window to a larger existence than existed outside of my little world on Grace Avenue in Shavertown.

Rat traps filled with soul crusaders

Speaking of pompadours...

I’ve always been a sucker for an r&b or soul raveup, the sort that was prevalent in the '60s through the mid-'70s. And, of course, I thought those days were mostly long gone.

So what to make of this? Passionate, great sound, good song. I hear echoes of Tyrone Davis, Howard Tate and others.

But a better example of his talents may be this stripped-down version of the same song.

I’ve heard very little by Eli “Paperboy” Reed, so I will remain guarded until we see what else he delivers.

Get it? Delivers? Paperboy?

Of course, my love of this music began and was fostered by my brother’s transistor and record collection. The Top-40 chart of the 60s was populated by the likes of Otis Redding, Sam and Dave and Wilson Pickett. And he seemed to be bringing home albums on what seemed like a weekly basis from Solomon Burke, Ray Charles, Ike & Tina Turner and the latest from Stax/Volt.

While the Beatles were drawing my attention, he obviously favored the more-bluesy and rougher Rolling Stones. I still remember heading with my mom and dad to Wayne Department Store in Edwardsville, PA, in search of the Stones’ 12x5 for a Christmas present.

Still, none of this sunk in for 10-15 years.

I wasn’t listening back then, but later on I realized that I heard it all.

Johnnie Taylor -- Soul Heaven