(Samoht, 1985ish) Obviously rock n roll has little meritocracy involved, so when a band you like doesn't hit the big time there's no surprise. But when a deserving ac can't even hit outsider artist novelty minor cult status something is wrong with this system! A few years back Thomas, a veteran Harlem jazz fringe figure who made a series of strange but groovy private press releases in the early 80s, had a seeming moment. A documentary was produced on him, he was mentioned in Irwin Chusid's "Songs in the Key of Z" book, he was even on Chic-A-Go-Go. But somehow his records are still available at $5-$20, and there is no chatter about him online, and the lead single from this LP has less than 200 views on Youtube. I hope he is still with us, but I wouldn't know, because he fell back into the cracks after he should have gained Daniel Johnston-ish fame! Not demented enough for Dr. Demento, and not mentally ill enough to laugh at like Wesley was, this album instead offers warm, sincere, off kilter (and sung off time and key) takes on life, love, and getting by. So get and buy while it's still dirt cheap, you will not be sorry.
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