Toronto Mike

Randy Newman Flashback Evokes Catalogue Dive


The other day I had this memory surface quite randomly.  I was about my son's age, maybe six or seven, and I was in the basement of my grandparents' house in Midland, Ontario.

In this memory I can see the billiards table, the brownish-orange shag carpeting, and in the corner, this great old turntable with dozens of records. I'm leafing through the records and along with The Irish Rovers and several artists I wasn't familiar with, there are many albums by Randy Newman.

This memory sort of sprung up and bit me out of nowhere, so I secured myself Randy Newman's entire catalogue of music and dove in.  I've been listening to Randy quite a bit these past few days, and I'm loving it.  I dig his style, his lyrics, the way he tells a story in song and the tone of his voice. Sure, I knew a little Randy Newman before, but I never appreciated his talent until now.

My grandfather, as it turned out, was a big Randy Newman fan.  I was pretty young when my grandpa passed away, and I haven't really thought about him in over a decade, but suddenly we have this link.

Music's kinda neat that way.

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