Robert Baird

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Robert Baird  |  Jul 31, 2006  |  0 comments
Rumor is that the suits at MTV are beginning to kvetch about the expense of having bottled water delivered to the NYC offices of the network. Man, when the bottled water bill gets up on the bean counter radar nothing good can come of it.
Robert Baird  |  Mar 21, 2016  |  1 comments
Going, going...
Robert Baird  |  Jul 12, 2013  |  2 comments
It’s been a tough half year or so for Wayne Coyne of the Flaming Lips.
Robert Baird  |  Aug 08, 2017  |  0 comments
Lots of in-the-moment twists and turns and a general sense of going with what felt right.
Robert Baird  |  Sep 13, 2007  |  4 comments
ELP As Christmas approaches, the reissues have begun to trickle in. Today's bounty was Emerson, Lake and Palmer's Brain Salad Surgery or what the notes call "Prog Rock's masterpiece."
Robert Baird  |  Mar 16, 2018  |  6 comments
Paris '65 in stunning sound, the Resonance Reissue...
Robert Baird  |  Aug 15, 2008  |  1 comments
It’s appropriate that I’d be listening to Irma Thomas’ new R&B record, Simply Grand when I heard that Jerry Wexler had died.
Robert Baird  |  Aug 06, 2010  |  1 comments
It’s a truism that writers naturally do not want to swallow, but dammit it’s true: a picture like the one above can be worth more than a thousand words.
Robert Baird  |  Jul 11, 2006  |  2 comments
Stereophile's answer to Poppin' Fresh talks with Dr. John backstage at June's HE 2006 show in Los Angeles.
Robert Baird  |  Jun 01, 2007  |  4 comments
Forty years ago today, June 1, 1967, The Beatles taught the world what innovation really sounded like.
Robert Baird  |  Feb 07, 2018  |  9 comments
Mobile Fidelity reissues Heart Like A Wheel...
12106  |  Dec 01, 2006  |  5 comments
It was one of those New York days when all you want in the world is for something, anything to come down fromBetwitched or Zeus' cloud or the time space portal to Northern New Mexico and transport you like smoke to somewhere far, far away. It was also one of those days when John Atkinson and I were torturing each other with visions of our old home in Santa Fe and the steaming bowls of green chile stew we each now crave like dogs. "Hurry up, Tie off the vein, get the sopapillas ready for after…"
Robert Baird  |  Apr 25, 2008  |  0 comments
There it was again. Goosebumps. Even a grainy old out–of–synch YouTube video of a 1986 sound check at Maxwell's in Hoboken still evoked a shiver. At the risk of living in the rock 'n' roll past, The Replacements were one of the best bands, bar or otherwise, that I've ever had the pleasure of witnessing. Over the years I saw Westerberg, Mars and the Stinson Bros many, many times. I saw them when they were riotously drunk, careening from one tune to the next, never finishing any of them. I saw them once at an unbilled gig do not a note of their own music, preferring instead to rip through TV themes: Batman followed by Bewitched followed by The Flintstones... I saw them jacked up on God knows what, painting their shoes and whipping bologna from a deli tray all over their dressing room. Through it all, with the possible exception of when Bob Stinson was kicked out for getting a little too addictive, they had a ball. When it got serious near the end, around the time of Don’t Tell a Soul, it was for all intensive purposes, over. They were the best thing to come out of the once vaunted Minnesota scene—okay, after Prince—and whether they liked it or not, one of the originators of the whole "alt" rock thang.
Robert Baird  |  Dec 18, 2009  |  0 comments
John Hammond has always been a strange case. Son of the legendary record producer and scout John Hammond Sr. who worked with Billie Holiday, Bruce Springsteen, Bob Dylan and Leonard Cohen, young John who sang and played guitar staked out a difficult piece of musical turf when he decided to make playing acoustic Delta–styled blues on the National Steel guitar his signature move.
Robert Baird  |  Feb 13, 2012  |  8 comments
Opening with a prayer for Whitney Houston, the Grammy Award had its usual smattering of worthwhile performances and utter idiocy.

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