I have to laugh. I keep finding various accounts of my musical days with the Prime Movers Blues Band, usually in connection with a young Iggy Pop, who was our drummer. Here is something from the book “Iggy Pop: Open Up and Bleed” by Paul Trynka:

START QUOTE:
“... throughout 1966, Michael Erlewine’s influence was crucial. “Iggy was a sponge, I think he soaked up ideas,” says Scott Richardson, then singer with the Chosen Few, who for a while shared a squalid basement apartment with the drummer. “Michael was a very bossy figure, but a very influential one.”

Everyone has favorites. Three of my most-favorite women singers are Billie Holiday, Irma Thomas, and Barbara Lewis. Billie Holiday, IMO, is hands-down the best singer I have ever heard. Her microtones, nuances, and ambiance are just the best for my taste. She is so good that I seldom play her records because she takes so much out of me that I have to get up to even listen to her.

My Pick:
“Back at the Chicken Shack" on Blue Note

Hammond organist Jimmy Smith has made a lot of albums. Like many artists, his early material tends to be fresh and power-packed -- real burners. This is some of the finest soul jazz -- groove music -- ever made.

My Pick: “My Favorite Things”/Atlantic

Coltrane, like a number of major jazz figures, had several distinct music periods in his career. Very early Coltrane, recordings from bootleg radio broadcasts, finds him playing bop somewhat in the style of Dexter Gordon and Lester Young. 

Well dear friends, I fear you are going to be guinea pigs for this new TV series I am working on, actually more like a podcast with graphics. I am just getting started, and here is the script for my first segment, a show about one of the great blues harmonica players, Junior Wells. Humor me, because I am on a learning curve here. And you won’t be able to hear music yet, but I will post it to YouTube when it is finished. Thanks for your attention. Here is the first part:

It was 1966 when I first saw Magic Sam live on Chicago's West-Side. He was playing in a large bar that reminded me of one of those ubiquitous Chinese restaurants, bare of furnishings, with very low ceilings and gray Formica-topped tables scattered everywhere you could see. However, at first I could see nothing because the place was packed. My brother Dan and I managed to squeeze through the small front door and kind of flatten ourselves up against the back wall.