Way. . .

. . . Way before I discovered the joys of jazz/rock fusion, my musical tastes took a turn that was probably pretty natural considering that the accordion pretty much started it all. My friend Joe - he of the red American Flyer and the hill at the elementary school in my neighborhood where we would sit (yes, on our bicycles) and discuss everything from soup to nuts and solve the problems of the world. . . well, at least our little world - had pretty eclectic tastes and what just the kind of personality I needed to gravitate toward at that time in my life. One of those tastes that rubbed off onto me was for a folk trio who had already been making music successfully for a number of years and of whom I knew some (Puff the Magic Dragon was a childhood anthem), Peter, Paul and Mary. And as is the case with much music that I loved in my early days, I couldn't then explain to you what attracted me to it, although now you would be sorry if you asked me to explain, I was enthralled by the simplicity, the intertwining harmonies and the contrast of the three voices when Peter, Paul and Mary performed.




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