#Trish Spencer Wikipedia

[digitaligyaan]

Trish Spencer Wiki, Age Bio, Family, Everything About Matty Matheson’s Wife

Trish Spencer Wiki – The wonderful Canadian lady Trish Spencer may be the joint owner of Loveland, a bridal boutique on another of the main arterial roads in Toronto (Ossington Avenue). Furthermore, she actually is the beloved wife of one of Canada’s most well-known chefs Matty Matheson. Discover more information regarding this mother that is amazing including her relationship with your extensively traveled cook Matty Matheson.

Trish Spencer Wiki, Bio

Unlike her star chef spouse, the biodata Trish Spencer Wiki just isn’t when you look at the public domain. She has held details of her individual life such as her day of delivery, age, schools went to and early life out of the spying eyes of the public. Nevertheless, it is a known truth that Trisha was a crush that is matty’s teen. Trisha was not the child that is only of parents as you will find four various other siblings with whom she spent her youth within one of many provinces, in Canada.

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The one where they raise the red flag over the Reichstag (summer mix 2017)

LINK HERE

1. Jorge Ben, “Meus Filhos, Meus Tesouro”, África Brasil (1976). A pretty simple song. Jorge Ben has this knack for investing the quotidian with a kind of profundity, and I just love it. The gist of the song is an imagined conversation with his children in which he asks them what they want to be when they grow up. The most poignant, beautifully-sung line in this song translates literally to “I want to be a soccer player!”

2. Philip Cohran, “The Minstrel”, On The Beach (1967). Massive Afrofuturist groove from ex-Sun Ra sideman. According to Allmusic, some of the people playing on this went on to gigs as diverse as the Agharta band (Pete Cosey) and Earth, Wind and Fire (Don Myrick). The thumb piano that anchors the groove is a creation of Cohran’s that he calls the frankiphone.

3. Gene McDaniels, “Tower of Strength”, Tower of Strength (1961). Great performance of a classic Bacharach and Hilliard tune. That falsetto is to die for.

4. Broadcast, “Goodbye Girls”, Tender Buttons (2005). Never got into this band when they were more popular (even though I probably should have). Those goofy antique synths are so joyously raucous, just barely in time, and Trish Keenan’s vocals are as delicately celestial as they’re cracked up to be. This flows nicely from the McDaniels tune — it falls somewhere between a Northern soul stomper and Young Marble Giants.

5. Amps for Christ, “Colors”, Circuits (1999). Glorious rendition of an ancient Scottish folksong. I have a real special spot in my heart for AfC — they got a good deal of attention in the indie rock press in the mid-oughts but, fairly unique among bands that won Pitchfork’s heart, they came not ought of the basement of some Chicagoland suburb but from the late 80s/early 90s SoCal powerviolence scene, a heterogenous outgrowth of US hardcore punk that took inspiration from British grindcore, Bay Area thrash, Sabbathian sludge and injected a much needed dose of good politics into the scene at a time when hardcore’s leading lights were sporting Fred Perry and Freikorps haircuts. Main dude Henry Barnes handled circuits for Man is the Bastard, who are simply one of the greatest bands the United States has ever produced: a heady mix of prog rock, US hardcore, the burgeoning “noise scene” (which was more-or-less in its infancy), thrash metal and god knows what else. As Barnes got older, his music got mellower in some ways, more intense in others, and remained fiercely committed to a better world (with a sardonic sense of humor to boot). It’s hard to say enough good things about them.

6. The Roches, “Runs in the Family”, The Roches (1979). Turns out that that all-women, multipart-harmony-heavy, Dustbowl-folk revival thing started not with Mountain Man’s terrific Made The Harbor (2010) but about three decades earlier with the Roches. This is a weird little record, kind of a mixed bag (and produced, bizarrely, by Robert Fripp, whose unmistakable Frippertronics fit surprisingly well). But some of the tunes are just stunningly beautiful, and this is one of them. The harmonies are heartbreaking and just unconventional enough to keep from turning into saccharine mush. Also I’m a big fan of any folk song that can organically work in a line as tearjerking but nerdy as “I can’t change the law of averages”.

7. Roscoe Holcomb, “I’m a Free Little Bird”, The High Lonesome Sound (1965). Listen, I know we’ve all had enough of that “white working class” mythology so beloved of both wings of capital, Trumpers and liberal imperialists alike. Think of this not in terms of “authenticity” or as a paean halcyon days of (white) class collaboration in America but as a virtuosic and joyous celebration of life that draws its strength from the well of the multinational US working class.

8. The Vibrators, “Whips and Furs”, Pure Mania (1977). From that corner of early punk that was self-consciously retrograde, a mud-caked revival of rock’n’roll, comes this nugget. It opens by quoting a Sly and the Family Stone classic — at that point already a decade old — and hits the heights of harmony with a line about a lothario who “drives a black Cadillac [with] whips and furs in the back”. Real fun pulp mag vibe here. Those ambitious little bass runs top off an already perfect song.

9. Godley and Creme, “Sandwiches of You”, L (1978). Restless, complex, delicate, sophisti-pop from the weirder half of 10cc. I really don’t even know what to say about this: it’s so accessible, funny and bizarre but it also sounds like Gentle Giant playing the Looney Tunes soundtrack. Amazing record. This will forever remind me of driving to rural Kernersville, NC in the middle of the night for work at the massive FedEx warehouse there.  

10. Todd Rundgren, “Long Flowing Robe”, Runt: The Ballad of Todd Rundgren (1971). For a guy who’s done some of the weirdest records in the pop music canon, his more straightforward tracks are remarkably approachable and familiar. Although even this song is, all things considered, pretty weird: it kicks off with a clavinet (more associated with Stevie Wonder than power pop), and it includes prominent bongos and cowbell, Rundgren’s infinitely-multitracked falsettos, and a strange combination of thudding proto-metal drumming and delicate fingerpicking. But it’s also simultaneously a perfect pop song about being lonely whose chorus you can memorize before you’ve heard the full song for the first time. My dad reports that this remained a huge jam at Southeast High in Wichita in the late 70s.

11. Jefferson Airplane, “Watch Her Ride”, After Bathing at Baxter’s (1967). The sound of the Summer of Love becoming heavy metal. A paranoid but tender freakout that clearly points ahead to NWBOHM-style metal while remaining somehow heavier than metal — there’s hardly any distortion on the guitars, but they’re so resonant, their jazzy chords seeming to linger in the air forever, that they end up sounding more powerful than the filthiest drop-tune. Spencer Dryden (nephew of antifascist film star Charlie Chaplin) turns in a great drum performance.

12. Squeeze, “Hard to Find”, Cool for Cats (1979). Underrated gem from Squeeze’s second record. There’s a marvelous contrast between the white-knuckle new wave of the verse and the brief intrusion of good vibes in the chorus with handclaps, lovelorn vox, Glenn Tillbrook’s throaty cry, and bluesy arpeggios that sound like nothing so much as King Crimson (!).

13. The dBs, “Love is for Lovers”, Like This (1984). Stellar, weird powerpop (from Winston-Salem!). This is from their third record, after one half of their great songwriting duo (Chris Stamey, who pops up later on the list) had left. Still, Peter Holsapple could write a mean tune on his own. His yelp in the chorus is magnificent, so full of boyish charm — even in recent live performances, he sounds exactly the same when he sings it. True story, he came into the restaurant that I used to be a cashier at (he still lives in the Triangle, if I’m not mistaken), and I immediately said “holy shit, you’re Peter Holsapple!”, and he goes “this literally never happens”. My dad has some good stories about seeing them live when he lived in Raleigh in the 80s.

14. Orange Juice, “Holiday Hymn”, The Glasgow School (compilation 2005, originally recorded live 1981). My favorite “indie-pop” group of all time. My listening diet when I was 15 was about 80 percent grindcore, 20 percent jazz and it became about 75 percent indie pop after my dad bought me this comp. on a whim. This isn’t actually a “signature OJ” song; it was unreleased for a long time (as far as I can tell), and it’s actually a cover of a Vic Godard song (member of the class of ‘77 punk group Subway Sect before he became a noted soul revivalist). But it’s a perfect song for them to cover; that needling soul bass and the angular Byrds-playing-funk guitars work so well. “Today all the girls / will see our fire begin to glow / today all the girls / will recite Jean-Jacques Rousseau” is a very pretty, if mysterious, little line.

15. Captain Beefheart, “My Head is my Only House Unless It Rains”, Clear Spot (1972). It’s a little unfair that Don van Vliet could be one of the most influential, pioneering rock musicians of all time (Trout Mask Replica 100 percent deserves its reputation) and also have penned a Van Morrison-style soul ballad so deep it makes Van Morrison look like the Bee Gees. This sounds like a slightly offbeat, if dark and powerful, ballad, until about a minute in, and then suddenly the tension that the verse and the pre-chorus bridge build...just goes awry, in the prettiest way. The chorus turns out to be not only not-a-chorus — it only occurs once! — but one of the most subtle, propulsive riffs ever crafted.

16. Kim Fowley, “Mom and Dad”, Automatic (1974). This guy is such a Hollywood sleazebag that his Wikipedia page literally lists his occupation as “impresario”. And yet, this gorgeous fingerpicked Lou Reed-ripoff is one of the most straightforwardly-affecting records I’ve heard in my life. I barely knew who this guy was when Jonathan Woollen announced his death via Facebook and posted this track, and I swear I could barely hold back the tears after the second playback. As much as I hated Lou Reed, I deeply loved Lou Reed, and this is maybe the most Lou Reed thing ever written by someone other than Lou Reed.

17 Kyu Sakamoto, “Sukiyaki” (single, 1961). According to Wikipedia, one of the few “non-Indo-European language songs” to ever crack the Billboard top 100. Even if you don’t speak a word of Japanese — I don’t — its virtues are manifest — an effervescent tune that apparently takes the generic form of a lovelorn pop song but was composed as an anti-fascist protest of the post-WWII US-Japan alliance.

18. Sneakers, “Like a Cuban Crisis”, Racket (1992, originally recorded mid-70s?). It’s hard to imagine something that appeals to me more in descriptive terms than an angular, punchy power-pop group from NC featuring Chris Stamey (dB’s, whom we heard earlier) and Mitch Easter (Let’s Active, feature on previous mixes). And they really live up to the description, from the sparkling twin guitars of the opening riff to the perfect (non-)chorus, and bonus for the genuinely funny satire.

19. Witchfynde, “Leaving Nadir”, Give ‘Em Hell (1980). A jammer from that brief period of the NWOBHM during which a gorgeously-arpeggiated, powerpop-ish intro like the one this cut sports and a pounding, palm-muted verse could comfortably co-exist.

20. Linda Ronstadt, “Heart Like a Wheel”, Heart Like a Wheel (1974). A classic country-rock record — the country-rock record?! — that was once immensely popular, even winning a grammy, but which has so fallen by the wayside amongst the cognoscenti that I don’t feel bad about putting it on a mixtape. It’s a subtly-weird track. After a vertiginous piano opening reminiscent of a solo Bill Evans date, Ronstadt begins the song by detailing, then abruptly disavowing, a simile for the human heart. The song never quite coheres….there’s a beautiful chorus, but one that’s cut short by an extended instrumental break featuring heart-rending cello (?) — but that makes it all the more addictive — how can you hear that (much-delayed) chorus just twice?! Another record that inexplicably reminds me of North Carolina, even though Ronstadt was the scion of a wealthy manufacturing family from Arizona who had, far as I can tell, no special connection to NC.

21. DJ Screw, “Every Day, All Day [South Circle]”, Chapter 226: Million Dollar Hands (1995). A change-of-pace superficially, but that melancholy melody line forms a natural transition from the Ronstadt track in my mind. Absolutely classic, unrelentingly-bleak mid-90s chopping and screwing. The South Circle track is a merciless g-funk cut to begin with, but the Screw remix is a monolithic thing of beauty.

22. The Brides of Funkenstein, “Disco to Go”, Funk or Walk (1978). Hilarious yet deadly-serious, powerful yet loose P-Funk spinoff. This reminds me of swimming at the apartment pool when my parents divorced dad moved to the heart of downtown Kansas City to be near his work; this record was one of the few that we could all agree on as a family to put on the boombox during afternooon swims. This was back when downtown was inhabited by the kind of straight-up phreaks who stuffed hardcore guy-on-guy pornography into their neighbor’s mailboxes apparently just for the hell of it (finding this sort of thing in the mail among the form responses from fan mail I’d sent to Vinny Testaverde is one of my first memories). E-I-O-diss-CO-to-GO!

23. Trinity and U-Brown, “Nice Up the Yard”, (single, 1982). My favorite riff on the “Boxing” rhythm ever released. Something about this just crackles with youthful energy and energy. Almost totally-unknown — this is off a comp I pulled off the internet called DUB HOT DUBS several years back, and I can’t find a single thing about either of the artists, but still, totally classic.

24. Linton Kwesi Johnson, “Fight Dem Back”, Forces of Victory (1979). Militantly progressive Black British reggae. One of the funniest and, yet, most deadly-serious songs ever recorded. 

25. The Dils, “Sound of the Rain”, Made in Canada (1980). Marxist-Leninist powerpop — nuff said. Name a catchier tune whose chorus begins “I don’t listen to the cops / I wish they all were dead”.

26. Fairport Convention, “Cajun Woman”, Unhalfbricking (1969). One of the slighter — but catchier — tracks from a top-10 record for me. Fairport, at that point featuring two of my favorite artists of all time (Linda Thompson and her husband Richard), turned in a massive, spiritual brit-folk-revival LP that was also stuffed with oddities like this zydeco-jammer. Like many Fairport tunes, the rapturous boogie is cut with a surprising gravitas. That slightly discordant note in the chorus is perfect.

27. Magma, “Üdü Ẁüdü”, Üdü Ẁüdü (1976). There are some of those “underground canon” records that are fun to listen to, that tickle your brain, that are intellectually exciting. And then there are some that, even though they’re sung in a made-up language and performed by a French band 32 years before you first heard it, feel so familiar that it’s as if they were written by dear friends. That joyous background whoop at 1:51 is one of my favorite moments in recorded music. A pulsating, polyrhythmic, deliriously joyous mass of music that seems to prefigure “Brothersport” down to the details.

28. The Fans, “Giving Me That Look In Your Eyes”, Giving Me that Look In Your Eyes EP (1979). Feckless, extremely-active Bristol new-wave-cum-powerpop. This reminds me of Vampy Weekend a little bit, actually, just in terms of how dizzily sucrotic this is. Unfortunately they didn’t realize very much other stuff but most “throwaway bands” manage only one great lost single — the Fans had several. If you dig this, have a listen to the equally-great “You Don’t Live Here Anymore”.

29. Alice Coltrane, “Sivaya”, Transcendence (1977). How are hipsters not all over this? Immediately accessible, burning-with-soul, post-apocalyptic prayers to god from one of the most respected jazz musicians of all time. It’s really hard to express how simultaneously and simple and deep this is; there’s something especially beautiful about this ragged, loose beauty when you know exactly how complex and brutal her music could be.

30. DJ Screw, “It Was All a Dream [Shaq]”, Chapter 11: Headed 2 Da Classic (1996?). Mention of the original Shaq record is something of a snarky in-joke amongst people that know anything about basketball or music, but this cut — while manifestly unoriginal — is genuinely beautiful and the Screw mix accentuates the deep vibes. Shaq’s not a great rapper but there is some real solid production on this and the big-workin-class-dreams-come-true bit tugs at the heartstrings.