Monday, February 26, 2007

TERRELL'S SOUND WORLD PLAYLIST

Sunday, February 25, 2007
KSFR, Santa Fe, N.M.
Webcasting!
10 p.m. to midnight Sundays Mountain Time
Host: Steve Terrell

NEW: email me during the show! terrell@ksfr.org

OPENING THEME: Let it Out (Let it All Hang Out) by The Hombres

Oscars Set
Tinsel Town Rebellion by Frank Zappa
No Business Like Show Business by Ethel Merman
Martin Scorsese by King Missile
Celluloid Heroes by The Kinks
Beloved Movie Star by Stan Ridgway
New Age by The Velvet Underground

She's Going Bald by The Beach Boys
Oops I Did it Again by Richard Thompson
People Who Died by The Jim Carrol Band
Neighborhood 1 - Tunnels by The Arcade Fire
Perfectly Good Guitar by John Hiatt
Windsurfing Nation by Broken Social Scene
Snake by P.J. Harvey
My Bai Taiga by Tyva Kyzy

Something in Your Back Pocket by Otis Taylor
Love Machine by The Time
Staring at the Sun by TV on the Radio
The Girl Can't Dance by Bunker Hill with Link Wray
Princess Lala by Irma Thomas
Mr. Big Stuff by Jean Knight
River of Dreams by Jerry Lawson & Talk of the Town
I Want You to Want Me by The Holmes Brothers

In Shock by Kristin Hersh
The Lonely End of the Rink by The Tragically Hip
Cousin Chris by The Fiery Furnaces
Live With Me by The Twilight Singers with Mark Lannegan
Love For Sale by Julie London
Little Drop of Poison by Tom Waits
CLOSING THEME: Over the Rainbow by Jerry Lee Lewis

Saturday, February 24, 2007

INSIGHT NEW MEXICO


I'll be appearing on Eric Griego's talk show Insight New Mexico between 3 pm and 4 pm this afternoon.
It's on Albuqueruqe's 1350 AM Talk Radio station -- which unfortunately doesn't come in very well in Santa Fe. But the show is podcasted HERE.

THE SANTA FE OPRY PLAYLIST

Friday, February 23, 2007
KSFR, Santa Fe, NM
Webcasting!
10 p.m. to midnight Fridays Mountain Time
Host: Steve Terrell


OPENING THEME: Buckaroo by Buck Owens & The Buckaroos
Guacamole by The Texas Tornados
Are You Sure Hank Done it This Way by Uncle Tupelo with Joe Ely
Rich Man's Town by Country Dick Montana
Closing Time by The Pleasure Barons
I Just Want to Meet the Man by Robbie Fulks
Don't Be Ashamed of Your Age by Jerry Lee Lewis with George Jones
Tobacco Road by Southern Culture on the Skids
Do You Call That a Buddy? by Martin, Bogan & Armstrong

Pinball Machine by Splitlip Rayfield
Why Don't You Haul Off and Love Me by Scroatbelly
One Voice by The Gear Daddies
Boil the Strings by The Gourds
Lookout Mountain by Drive By Truckers
Old Dan Tucker by Bruce Springsteen
Okie Boogie by Maddox Brothers & Rose

Heartaches by the Number by Willie Nelson, Merle Haggard & Ray Price
I'm Barely Hangin' On to Me by Miss Leslie & Her Juke Jointers
Gonna Be Flyin' Tonight by Wayne Hancock
Thrown Out of the Bar by Hank Williams III
Just the Other Side of Nowhere by John Prine & Mac Wiseman
Sam Stone by Swamp Dogg
If I Had a Boat by The Holmes Brothers
Lorraine by John Egenes
Rye Whiskey by Sen. Robert Byrd

Seven Time Hotter Than Hell by T-Bone Burnett
Rio by Mike Nesmith
Remain by Jon Dee Graham
Barbara Allen by The Handsome Family
Dear Friend by Eleni Mandell
The Great Speckled Bird by Rob McNurlin
CLOSING THEME: Comin' Down by The Meat Puppets

Steve Terrell is proud to report to the monthly Freeform American Roots Radio list

Friday, February 23, 2007

eMUSIC FEBRUARY

Here's my allotted 90 downloads from eMusic this month:



*Some Kinda Nut - Missing Links Volume 3 by Link Wray. This is a collection of rare Link Wray tracks both as a solo artist and sideman. "Little Red Riding Hood & The Wolf" by Bunker Hill. The greatest, the craziest rock 'n' soul hit you never heard.




*Quicksand/Cradlesnakes by Califone. If Wilco is The Beatles of roots-based experimental rock, then Califone is ... I dunno, The Who?




*Bee Hives by Broken Social Scene. I downloaded this because a friend recently turned me on to BSS' self-titled album. I like that one better than Bee Hives, which seems slower and more meandering.




*Young Liars
and New Health Rock by TV on the Radio . I just got into this band (See my recent Tuneup on Return to Cookie Mountain) Better late than never! This band's like a crazy mix of Fishbone and the Fall held hostage in a magic Radio Shack. These are a couple of EPs from TV's early years (2003-2004). Not quite as developed as Cookie Mountain, but they definitely were on their way.



*The Singles
by Spacemen 3. This is a band whose name I've seen under influences of an awful lot of pyscho/garage/guitar-fuzz/noise bands I like. However, I'd never really been into the Spacemen that much, so I thought I'd give 'em a try. Cool and spacey. Some of it rocks, some like "Ecstacy Symphony" are lengthy drones. That one and others are around 10 minutes long. Warning: This album barely fits on one disc. Burning it on iTunes I had to set it on 0 seconds between songs to make it all fit.



*Why I Remix Women by Pere Ubu. I would have titled this "Why I Hate Remix Albums." I couldn't not to get this because I liked Why I Hate Women so much. But my advise is to stick with the original.

Plus

* The first seven cuts from Vol. 2 America's Most Colorful Hillbilly Band by The Maddox Brothers and Rose. I had seven tracks left over, so I decided to get a start on the second column. This family band had more fun than hillbillies out to be allowed to have. (I've just downloaded th remaining 23 tracks for my march selections.)

and

* Bloodshot Records Honky-Tonk Compilation What a deal! This currently is free to eMusic members. I already had most of these 11 tracks on the original albums by artists like Wayne "The Train" Hancock, Robbie Fulks, the Old 97s, former Santa Fe resident Rex Hobart, Paul Burch, etc. but it makes for a dandy sampler.

TERRELL'S TUNEUP: OTIS ROARS

A version of this was published in The Santa Fe New Mexican
February 23, 2007


Since his rise in the ’90s, Otis Taylor’s main goal seems to have been to stretch the boundaries of the blues in subtle yet exciting ways. Sometimes Taylor, or at least his PR folks, calls his music “trance blues,” though that tag hardly does his sound justice.

His latest album, Definition of a Circle (to be released Tuesday, Feb. 27), stretches those boundaries even further.

But it’s still very much the blues. And it’s still very much an Otis Taylor album. In fact, this is among his best. Like his best work, there are lots of socially conscious songs dealing with downtrodden and forgotten people. But on at least a couple of numbers here, Taylor sounds as if he wants to have a little fun.

Circle has to be the most richly textured album he’s ever done. There’s a wide variety of instruments — trumpets, mandolin, banjo, keyboards, cello, and, on some songs, even drums. (Until his last album, Below the Fold, Taylor never used drums in his recordings. He doesn’t always need a drummer, but I’m glad he hasn’t taken some purist attitude about the issue.)

And this could be the first time Taylor has actually had guest stars. British bluesman Guitarist Gary Moore plays guitar on some tracks. And Charlie Musselwhite blows his harp on “Looking Over Your Fence.”

Every song here is worthwhile. But here are some standouts:
“They Wore Blue” is about Hurricane Katrina and its aftermath. It starts out slow and mournful, with Taylor moaning “Oh Katrina” as his daughter Cassie, sounding like a ghostly spirit, sings in the background. The chord structure reminds me of Hendrix’s version of “Hey Joe.” The last three minutes or so is a tasty little Allmanesque jam featuring Otis’ guitar, Nick Amodeo’s mandolin and Brian Juan’s organ. It’s an unexpected upbeat coda to a what started out as a dirge.

“Something in Your Back Pocket” is raging psychedelia, with Moore on lead guitar, Jack Hadley on steel guitar, and Taylor on slide. The vocals are all spoken word; Taylor plays a bouncer trying to keep a troublemaker out of a nightclub.

“Long Long Life” is a free jazz excursion with Ron Miles on cornet playing against the pianos of Hiromi Uehara and Taylor as well as Juan’s organ.

But Taylor might have saved his best for the album’s first track. “Little Betty” starts out on fire, with a fidgety guitar bouncing off the organ, Moore’s lead guitar answering Taylor’s vocals.

Once again, Taylor has shown that he’s the most innovative force in the blues. Despite all the periodic hand-wringing about the blues being a dying art form, as long as Otis is around, this music’s still a long way from extinction.

Also Recommended

State of Grace
by The Holmes Brothers. I have to admit I was worried when I saw the song list for this new one by The Holmes Brothers (Sherman Holmes and Wendell Holmes, plus Popsy Dixon.
Among a batch of original titles that looked promising were a bunch of rock and country covers — “Bad Moon Rising,” “(What’s So Funny ’Bout) Peace, Love and Understanding?” — and a couple of Lyle Lovett songs. And did the free world really need another version of Hank Williams’ “I Can’t Help It If I’m Still in Love With You”?

I should have known better than to be too concerned. After all, up until now my favorite Holmes Brothers song was a cover tune, Tom Waits’ “Train Song.” And they do a pretty good “Love Train” as well.

But the song that stopped me in my tracks on State of Grace was a cover of a Cheap Trick song.

I always kind of liked “I Want You to Want Me” as a jiffy little radio hit. The Holmes Brothers take it several steps beyond. In fact they take it right to church. They slow it down and turn it inside out. In the hands of The Holmes Brothers it is no longer a catchy ode to teenage lust but a stately appeal for love. The lyrics seem to be the same, but the song now has the aura of a prayer. It’s nothing short of gorgeous.

And the rest of the album is good too, even the covers I mention above. (Roseanne Cash helps out on the Hank Williams song.)

The trio skirts the borders of gospel, soul, blues, and country. Such distinctions don’t seem to make any difference to them. Whatever they’re singing turns out Holmesy.

One of my favorite songs here is a Wendell Holmes original called “Gasoline Drawers.” This is a funky tune with one of the funniest images I’ve heard about in a while. To win his woman’s love, Wendell Holmes “would run through Hell in gasoline drawers.”

One from the throat : Yes, this column is focused mainly on the blues, but if the late Paul Pena taught us anything, there’s a real link between the blues and Tuvan throat singing.

The best-known practitioners of this strange and alluring Central Asian style — Kongar-ool Ondar (who appeared with Pena in the documentary Genghis Blues) and the group Huun-Huur-Tu — are male. The deep voices (which to some sound like Popeye speaking in tongues) might make it appear to be a man’s game.

But that’s not true. Tyva Kyz is an all-female throat singing group from Tuva. These ladies not only sing, but play traditional Tuvan instruments like the homus (a Central Asian jaw harp), a bowed instrument called the byzaanchy, and the igil, a two-stringed fiddle.

Tyva Kyzy is scheduled to perform at Cloud Cliff Bakery (1805 Second St., 983-6254) at 7 p.m. Wednesday, Feb. 28. Tickets are $20. The group gives a throat-singing workshop at the Blue Dragon Coffee House in Albuquerque (1517 Girard Blvd. N.E., 505-268-5159) at 10:00 a.m. Wednesday, Feb. 28.

Wednesday, February 21, 2007

ROUNDHOUSE ROUNDUP: FUN AT THE CARSON CITY FORUM

A version of this was published in The Santa Fe New Mexican
February 22, 2007


CARSON CITY, Nev. — The Nevada caucus could prompt a national debate on something that many in the Silver State feel is a burning issue: How to pronounce this state’s name.

Politicians, pundits and academics here told me in interviews last week that nothing makes a visiting candidate seem more out of touch here than to mispronounce Nevada.

Residents insist it’s Ne-VAAA-duh (with the “a” sounding as in cat),” not Ne-VAH-duh.

I was sure Gov. Bill Richardson wouldn’t be the one to take this fall. He pronounced it like a Nevadan would at a Monday news conference in New Mexico. (Which was better than me. At least two Nevada contacts had corrected my pronunciation.)

It wasn’t a candidate who made the blunder at Wednesday’s forum for Democratic presidential candidates, however. It was the moderator.

George Stephanopoulos of ABC News offended local ears with his pronunciation of Nevada at the outset of his interview with U.S. Sen. Chris Dodd, the first candidate to speak.

Some in the audience actually booed. Dodd corrected him, shaking his finger and saying they pronounce it correctly in Dodd’s home state of Connecticut.
WINNING THE WEST
Nevada state Senate Minority Leader Dina Titus acknowledged to me last week that the accepted way to pronounce Nevada hereabouts actually is a mispronunciation of the Spanish word for “snowcapped.” But since enough natives mispronounce it the same way, Ne-VAAA-da is correct in the hearts of its citizens.

According to the Associated Press, the Nevada Democratic Party sent materials noting the correct pronunciation to every campaign, with the hope of helping candidates avoid the gaffe.

Could Stephanopoulos have purposely made the mistake to warn other speakers? Was he trying to alert Hillary Clinton, the wife of Stephanopoulos’ former boss Bill Clinton?

Nobody I talked to would buy such a theory. Those sitting near the stage said Stephanopoulos, who apologized, looked sincerely surprised when he started hearing the boos amid the groans.

Playing it safe: Actually, none of the candidates made a major gaffe. Most stuck pretty close to their talking points.

About the closest anyone got to dangerous territory was when Richardson, seemingly in passing, brought up the fact he supported the North American Free Trade Agreement. This in front of a big union audience. Green-shirted members of the American Federation of State, County and Municipal Employees filled the auditorium.

However, few seemed to take notice. At least, it didn’t evoke the same reaction as a mispronunciation of Nevada.

Snubbing the press: The Carson City forum had one of the stranger formats I’ve seen. Candidates would take the stage one at a time, give a brief introduction, sit down and answer questions from Stephanopoulos, give a brief closing statement and leave.

Almost all the candidates went directly from the auditorium to a back room of the Carson City Community Center to meet with reporters. (The room officially was called the Media Availability Room, though in political circles such a place is better known as Spin Alley.)
John Edwards
Richardson devoted a respectable amount of time to the reporters there. So did John Edwards, tough he cut it short when a reporter asked him what he thought of the legalized prostitution in parts of Nevada.

The major no-show at Spin Alley was Hillary Clinton. She reportedly had to leave town quickly to attend some function in Las Vegas.

Earlier in the day, she riled some local reporters.

This from Ray Hagar of the Reno Gazette Journal:



“Things got off to a bad start for the assembled media at the Nevada
Legislature. Last week, state Senate Minority Leader Dina Titus, D-Las Vegas, had invited some of the capital press corps into her office for a meet and greet with Sen. Hillary Clinton. But when Clinton arrived, the press was not allowed in at the request of Senator Clinton’s people.”
Working the parking lot: AFSCME had a lunch — actually it started at 10 a.m., so it was more of a brunch — in the community center near the auditorium where the forum was held. Most candidates didn’t take advantage of this to get out and personally greet the AFSCME faithful.

The campaigns of former Iowa Gov. Tom Vilsack distributed little stickers and pamphlets at tables while Sen. Joe Biden’s people placed sign-up cards for his campaign on the tables.

Richardson’s Nevada team didn’t work the AFSCME lunch, but they were out in force to distribute buttons and bumper stickers at the parking lot of the Nevada Appeal, where the state Democratic Party held a forum-watching party. Richardson and some other candidates dropped by to address the crowd there prior to the forum.NEVADA FOR RICHARDSON

I didn’t notice until much later that the yellow “Nevada for Richardson” button has a little Zia symbol on the bottom.

Searching for Searchlight: Twice on Wednesday, Richardson pledged to come back to Nevada for upcoming debates and forums. “I’ve accepted the invitation to the debate in Reno on Aug. 14 and I’ve accepted the invitation to the debate in Searchlight,” he said. “It might just be you and me, but I’ll be there,” he told the Democrats gathered at the newspaper building.

He made a similar statement about potential crowd size to the reporters in Spin Alley, but added, “That was a joke.”

Searchlight is a community of less than 600 south of Las Vegas. There’s not really a debate scheduled there, but the town has made one major contribution to Nevada politics. It’s the birthplace of U.S. Senate Majority Leader Harry Reid.

Tuesday, February 20, 2007

MY PREVIOUS NEVADA ASSIGNMENT

Greetings from Carson City, Nevada.

I'm here covering the Democratic presidential forum for The New Mexican.

I was musing this morning over on my Legislature blog that the last time the paper paid me to go to Nevada it was to cover The Grateful Dead in Las Vegas in the summer of 1994.

Just for the heck of it, I dug up that old story and will reprint it here:


A version of this was published in The Santa Fe New Mexican
July 3, 1994


Las Vegas is typically thought of as a harsh desert, in geography and so far as rock 'n' roll goes.

It's a city where, since the decline of the Rat Pack, third-rate lounge crooners like Wayne Newton have taken on the mantle of royalty.

It's the city where Elvis Presley went to die, artistically, at least.

But for the past four years, Las Vegas, the city of glitz, has played host to an annual onslaught by one of the most un-Vegaslike bands of all time, the good old Grateful Dead.

The Dead played in Vegas for three nights last weekend. I was there, along with photographer/crony Alec Walling and his brother Will.

Unlike most rock groups, the Grateful Dead is not just six musicians and a handful of roadies. Like some kind of twisted children's crusade, with the band comes thousands of loyal Deadheads.

The Deadheads, in full tie-dye regalia, fill the less-expensive hotels; they go in droves to stuff themselves at the $2.39 Circus Circus breakfast buffet; they crowd casinos like Slots-a-Fun, which offers 75-cent imported beers and cheap hot dogs.

They sometimes get dirty looks from pit bosses or cocktail waitresses and expressions of horror from nice, normal middle-class tourists.

The annual gathering has all sorts of potential for a major clash of cultures. And yet in many establishments there are printed signs welcoming Grateful Dead fans. ``Aw, they're people,'' said a 40-ish hotel security guard. ``Like any group of people, most are all right, and a few are pains. I haven't had any major problem with the Deadheads. Sometimes when they are all standing around together you have to tell them to move along. And sometimes you have to tell them they have to put on their shoes and shirts if they want to come in the hotel. But no major problems at all.''

In other words, the land of Frank, Dino and Sammy is amazingly tolerant of the followers of Jerry, Bobby and Phil.

Of course not all Deadheads are long-haired, freewheeling youth who make their living selling unauthorized Dead T-shirts in concert parking lots. At various times during the weekend I met a high school teacher, a court reporter, a law student, a primatologist (he studies monkeys) and an assistant district attorney from Phoenix, who said his fellow prosecutors make fun of him for going to Dead shows, though the public defenders think he's cool.

I had not seen the Dead since 1983, the last time they played in Santa Fe.

I decided I couldn't pass this one up. I had to find out what draws the Dead and its enormous following to Las Vegas.

I pondered the lyrics of several old Dead songs in which gambling is a recurring metaphor, the deadly poker game with "Dire Wolf," the desperation of "Loser," in which the narrator begs for a loan, promising, ``I've got no chance of losing this time.'' I considered the concept of the "Wheel" as related to roulette.

During one of Garcia's inspired guitar solos during the Friday show, a more sinister line of thought entered my mind: Vegas, the city designed by the Mob and built with Teamster Union pension fund money, represents something alluring and corrupt about the American spirit.

Therefore, the annual Dead shows might just represent a tainted side to those old hippy purists, the Grateful Dead, millionaires who charge their slavish fans $30 per head per show. You don't see Garcia standing in line for a $2.39 breakfast.

Perhaps Vegas represents the Dead shaking the hand of P.T. Barnum, as they sing in "U.S. Blues. "

And what about the Deadheads? Is there any real difference between an elderly housewife from Bumpoke, Idaho blowing her pension on nickel slots and the pie-eyed, tie-dyed Deadhead holding up a finger and a sign reading ``I Need a Miracle'' in hopes of someone giving him a free ticket?

Fortunately, Garcia's guitar solo took me to higher ground. A recent Dead song scoffs at "Easy Answers," but sometimes the easy ones are right.

Asked why he thought the Dead does so well in Vegas, Rob, a 30-year-old high school teacher from Dallas, said, ``I think it's just that it's a party town.'' A town that is open 24 hours a day, allows people to walk the streets with open bottles of booze and has flashing neon signs rivaling a psychedelic light show is bound to appeal to Deadheads.

In what other city in the world could a group of 200 or so scuzzy-looking kids gather in front of a bar on the main street, beat drums and dance all night long? That's what the scene was like in front of Slots-a-Fun early Sunday morning.

``The natives are restless tonight,'' joked a 60-ish hotel doorman across the street from the wild bongo donnybrook as the sun began to rise over The Strip. He was clearly more bemused than outraged. There are limits to Vegas' tolerance, however. Just a few feet away from the drum corps, a police officer was handcuffing a groggy young Deadhead who had committed the crime of sleeping on the street. But Vegas cops have a comparatively good reputation among Deadheads. Bob, an Oklahoma Deadhead in his mid-30s, said the Vegas police are great compared with the South Carolina state troopers who pulled Bob and his wife over earlier this year. According to Bob, when the officer saw the grinning skull decal on Bob's van, he radioed his dispatch, ``We got a couple of Deadheads here,'' and searched the van for drugs.

``All because we happen to like a certain band,'' Bob said. Indeed, recent articles in Rolling Stone and Details magazine document how federal drug agents have concentrated on Grateful Dead shows to make arrests for LSD sales.

Although a sickly sweet aroma could be smelled in many sections inside the Silver Bowl, there was no blatant drug trafficking in the parking lot, although when Alec was trying to sell an extra ticket, one young Deadhead who ``needed a miracle'' offered him a hit of acid in exchange. (Alec just said ``no.'') But attending the Dead concerts in Vegas was not all fun and party.

Sometimes it seemed like some kind of initiation, a brutal preliminary for a vision quest. And, of course, Vegas itself, with all its flashy temptations and subliminal messages telling you, ``Don't go to bed'', is a weird endurance test, especially after driving all night to get there, as we had done.

Temperatures in Las Vegas that weekend reached 119 degrees and remained in the mid 90s even after midnight. Although the Dead did not go on stage until just after dark, the opening act, Traffic, played in full sunlight. At the edges of the stadium floor, friendly Silver Bowl staff members squirted grateful Deadheads with hoses.

Seasoned Vegas concert-goers knew to stock up on bottled water before each show. Many brought spray bottles or squirt guns to share a little moisture with others. Then there's the sheer intensity of dealing with a crowd of 30,000 or so. Even though the Dead (and other bands) these days have giant video screens so you can see what's going on down on the stage, there's just no way to fully enjoy a concert from some distant bleacher. I actually tried it for a while during the Saturday show. It felt like watching television.

No, I've got to be down on the field, as close as possible, even though it involves scrunching into a sweaty maze of human bodies. This is not recommended for the claustrophobic.

There is another reward for those who venture onto the field. It's a good feeling to be accepted into the bosom of Deadheaddom.

In the past I have been a little harsh on the Deadheads, calling them tie-dye zombies and the like. But having spent a weekend in Vegas with them, my opinion has changed.

Sure, the ``I-need-a-miracle'' kids in the parking lot get tiresome. Some of them tried to make Alec feel like an evil bloodsucker about selling his extra ticket at face value, although they had no problem with those who sold 50-cent squirt bottles for $4. But the miracle moochers are just a tiny fraction of Deadhead Nation.

Having been to the Lollapalooza festival in Denver last year, as well as various smaller ``alternative'' rock shows, I have to say that the young Deadheads are far more open, friendly and tolerant than the Lollapalozers.

In Denver last year, I truly felt like a fish out of water because of my age.

There was so much ``more-alternative-than-thou'' attitude and pre-fab obligatory Generation X angst among the Lollapalooza crowd, I had little desire to get to know the little cretins.

At alt-rock concerts, ugly gaggles of short-haired machos routinely shove their way to the front of the stage.

At Dead shows there are those who worm their way through the crowd to get better spots. But if a Deadhead steps on your foot doing so, he or she apologizes.

This struck me on Saturday when the crowd was singing along withUncle John's Band. There's that line that goes, ``What I want to know is are you kind?''

Then there was a decal being sold by a Deadhead in the parking lot. It simply said ``Mean people suck.'' That reminded me of the shirtless goons who pushed my daughter and anyone else in their way at a Pearl Jam concert. Those guys weren't cool. I'll take kindness any day.

In short, a major part of the Deadhead code is an almost childlike dedication to simple decency.

In a city like Las Vegas, human decency is sometimes harder to find than a shady parking spot. Maybe that's why Vegas welcomes the Dead.


Alec took this shot of me and Elvis on our 1994 trip to see The Dead in Las Vegas

TERRELL'S SOUND WORLD PLAYLIST

  Sunday, March 24, 2024 KSFR, Santa Fe, NM, 101.1 FM  Webcasting! 10 p.m. to midnight Sundays Mountain Time Host: Steve Terrell E...