Nobody's Fault But Mine - Pops Staples

Edgar Winter Group- Tobacco Road 1973

Where the fuck did that sax come from?

Earl Hooker. 1969.

What a fucking badass.

Rise Above! - Black Flag, 1984

This one goes out to my old pal (getting older every day) John P. He's celebrating 20 years of his amazing King Cat Comics. Profiles in Courage indeed, my friend.

Jimmy Page. Prelude. 1983.

The 1980's were a treacherous time for Jimmy Page. He wandered aimlessly, reeling from the death of John Bonham and the loss of the greatest band in the world. As a player, he seemed to be a shell of his former self. As a human, he was a drug addled gnome spewing gibberish while getting pinched for blowing lines on trains in England.

The junk had aged him something fierce. He lost his chops and had a nasty case of the Jello legs. His spindly frame became almost freakish. You wondered if he could still wield that juggernaut of a double-neck around. Like when Beck and Clapton bailed him out of a particularly stinky rendition of Stairway to Heaven. Or when he and the boys got together for a horrific Live Aid performance. The one where Phil Collins crapped out a putrid, rotting corpse of a drum session. All while wearing a white fucking leisure suit. What a dick.

Then there was this gem of a Chopin cut off the Death Wish II soundtrack...

Yep, you heard that right. Jimmy Page wrote and performed the soundtrack to the most ridiculous movie about vigilante justice ever made. The movie where Bronson mowed down entire generations of street thugs.

Introducing Prelude No. 4 in E minor, performed in NYC in 1983. Prepare to have your epidermis replaced, because this one is a doozy. If it doesn't restore your faith in the dark knight, nothing will.

Mandrake Root - Deep Purple, 1970.

You know how much I love ugly drummers, and they don't come much uglier than Ian "Hideous Creeply" Paice. The only thing more frightening in this video is Blackmore's, um, licks. Wait for it. Wait for it. Wait for it. There it is.

Jethro Tull. My God. 1970.

The Mayor and I have had a few discussions about Jethro Tull in the past. I consider them a quintessential hub in that weird Tolkien, gypsy, peasant, wizard rock genre that Zep dabbled in for a few years.

The Mayor considers them a bunch of fruity flautists.

Whatever. I'll let the legions of Face Melters worldwide decide.

This song kicks all sorts of ass. Especially when dude loses his fucking marbles on that flute solo.

This is what I imagined everyone in England looked like in 1970. Little Peter Piper dudes with fucked up teeth, wearing leggings while sucking on gel tabs. Basically dudes you wouldn't mind sharing a camp fire with.

Steely Dan - "Aja" The Making Of:

"When have you ever heard a song on a rock and roll record that absolutely can't be played on a guitar."

This song is a fucking heavy hitter. I don't care.