I've been trying to figure out something meaningful to say about Backseat Sally, and it's proved too great a challenge for a string of days. Instead of further delay I'll just binge on what I've
got and purge it from the system.
I listened to this album in its entirety
the other day for the first and surely the last time. This is an object I have had in my possession -- and lugged around to
at least 10 houses (I'm unwilling to do an exact count) -- for 25 years. I got it for free in 1984 at Whizz Records right off campus in Columbia, on Conley two doors down from The Shack. It seems insane to own something like this for more than two decades.
guy who owned the place (Whizz, not The Shack; I called him the Wild Turk for some reason -- I'd see him out at parties
and such) had a box of freebies to choose from with a purchase. I picked this one out some fateful day with a David Bowie
or Talking Heads or Velvet Underground or Violent Femmes purchase. It is horrid.
There is an inordinate amount of information about this band on the Web (which is to say, some; any at all has to
qualify as a lot). Videos. Discographies. Band bios. How and why? I have nothing against these folks, but this recording was made long ago, before the 'net, and someone
somewhere has gone to a lot of effort to digitize what was so appropriately analog and left in another age.
I am being much too harsh. The album's no good, that's true. But Sally and gang
were making it happen in early-'80s Rochester. I'm sure they put on some fine shows for the local scene, even qualified
as mark-your-calendar material for awhile I bet.
Want to see why the
change of heart? Check this out.
Right on, Sally. I'd be enchanted to hear Sally Cohen tell tales
of the Backseat Sally heyday.
David Cheek has got me started
on Word Warp on my phone. It leads to compulsive behavior. I want to start e-mail banter with David to talk about a few mind patterns as a new feature here: The Exchange.