Essay

Among the odd venues in which I played, the following are some additional ones. Private homes are occasionally the site of a gig. One memorable

I’m in my forties, but I feel like a grumpy old man. Technological changes in my lifetime have been staggering. Computers, smartphones, and the internet

I’m amazed at the way Andy Senior has made Syncopated Times into a broad-gauged, literate, and outright enjoyable publication, and I’m a regular admirer of

With the recent passing of Johnny Mandel, I wanted to honor those gifted jazz musicians who, like Mandel, began as just another member of a

Ian Whitcomb was a fun person to be with. I believe it was in 1986 that we first met, at the Sedalia Scott Joplin festival.

Dear Festival Organizer, Covid-19 has led many festivals to take this year off. Now is the chance to analyze how you’ve been doing things and

“[Fud Livingston’s] final decade was a difficult one, and a pernicious addiction to alcohol ultimately took him out ahead of schedule. Until shortly before his

In the spring of 1973, one could not turn on a radio without the voices of Tony Orlando and Dawn emerging from it, singing “Tie

Note: Since this was written we have obviously launched an online edition, you’re reading it… we still think you should get yourself a physical copy,

—Andy Senior (July 20, 1994) Road Raisins—Oh, how I love ’em! Road Raisins—I gotta have ’em! I pick ’em up in the road— I’m not

In looking back to The Syncopated Times of December 2016, it unfavorably impressed a few readers when I assumed and seemed (to them) to luxuriate

When I was about ten years old, I became the proud possessor of an Edison Diamond Disc phonograph. This was under the objection of my

I probably don’t state this often enough, but I am most happy when a subscriber, having finished reading an issue of The Syncopated Times, passes

I was probably the only kid in my grade school who knew about Glen Gray. That precocious enlightenment came about because my father returned one

On being an Editor It must be a form of cosmic retribution—or what the ill-informed call “karma”—or what the sage denizens of my neighborhood mean

eBay once sold me such glories— I placed my bids without care; My house has only three stories And I need to sit down somewhere:

April Fool’s Day came early this year for some of us in the Northeast when every indication of an early Spring was muffled under what

Office Chair Old Office Chair’s got me, Mouse by my side— Fetch me that coffee Or I might get snide; Can’t leave this computer Ain’t

Owing to an interrupted internet connection this past week, I was almost certain that I would have to complete this issue without the crutches of

Making the World Safe for Autocracy (Feb. 16, 1996) There is delight in dismantling a beautiful machine. Each screw unscrewed, never to be rescrewed. Lordy,

A year has passed since I launched (as if by slingshot) the first issue of The Syncopated Times into the world. I may safely say

Sometimes our past lives come back to haunt us in strange ways. I’m not referring to anything paranormal. Reincarnation is a jolly concept but it

I found it on the AM dial. A Hollywood cowboy mimicking the distinctive Alpine sound of the Moser Brothers, a wildly popular touring group of