by Terry Barr
Was there ever a singer more lonely in this world than Tammy Wynette? Steacy Easton, in Why Tammy Wynette Matters, coined the phrase a “Tammy Wynette kind of pain (59).” It’s the kind of pain I keep thinking about when I hear Tammy’s version of “Lonely Street.”
In the early 1960s Wynette lived in the Elyton section of Birmingham, Alabama, with her two kids, more or less estranged…
The Gazillionaire Unveils Shrunken Head at The Golden Tiki
The Gazillionaire Unveils Shrunken Head at The Golden Tiki
Host and producer of Vegas’ #1 show, ABSINTHE at Caesars Palace, The Gazillionaire, unveiled his shrunken head at The Golden Tiki last night.
The Gazillionaire poses with his shrunken head at The Golden Tiki
Created exclusively for The Golden Tiki’s cabinet of curiosities by Smithsonian artist Terry Barr, the head was sculpted over the course of four weeks, referencing photos of The…
In Terry Barr’s flash nonfiction piece, “Superheroes,” he reminisced about his favorite AM radio DJ and the music that was the soundtrack to his life in the 70s. In this feature, he delves deeper into the connection he has with these songs, even today. We’ve included the song “Beach Baby,” Super Fox’s favorite, to bring back memories for those who are familiar with the oldies and to set the scene for those who are not.
Jen, non-fiction editor
I grew up as an AM radio junkie, listening to the same songs seven or eight times a day. I'd turn on the radio first thing in the morning, and at night I'd listen with all the lights off as my favorite disc jockeys--from Super Fox to Mike Edwards--played that season's hits along with an assortment of oldies. Top 40 AM was more eclectic then, or at least it seems that way to me now.From a more bubblegum surf anthem like Super Fox's favorite, "Beach Baby," to the more folkie "A Horse With No Name" by America, to Deep Purple's Hard Rock "Smoke on the Water," and to the psychedelic soul of The Temptations’ "Ball of Confusion,’ I loved them all, whether I'd admit this publicly or not. It was a common era of music, so even the most hard-crusted of my friends knew what "Sugar, Sugar" was.
I knew all the lyrics to these songs, and if you ask me today, I could get close to singing most of them. Maybe I do wince when I hear "Beach Baby," if I ever do hear it lately. But driving around in the 70s, finding places to sell us beer before we were of age, or entering apartments of famous strangers, we had a soundtrack that filled out our youth. The Beatles had broken up; Vietnam was winding down. Those were the times, the nights, when we ventured out into the world, and always the first thing we'd do once we got in the car was click the radio on and turn it up loud.
But if Super Fox got too full of himself, the next station was only a button away.