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Michael Lydon

I love music. We had a piano in my big Boston Irish family; my mother sang Handel, my father loved John McCormack. An aunt gave us the Benny Goodman’s Carnegie Hall LPs--I flipped for “Sing Sing Sing.” In high school I wore out my Billie Holiday and Duke Ellington records, but convinced I’d never learn to play jazz, I became a writer instead.

“Hit the Road Jack” introduced me to Ray Charles in college. A girlfriend knew all of Chuck Berry’s lyrics, and a drummer pal took me down to Harlem’s Apollo Theater to dig James Brown. I panned the Beatles in my campus column, praising Martha and the Vandellas instead. This, my first “rock writing,” got people talking.

I covered the civil rights movement for the Boston Globe, racing to Philadelphia, Mississippi when they found Goodman, Schwerner, and Chaney’s burned-out station wagon in a ditch. I met Mario Savio teaching Spanish to black kids months before Free Speech made headlines in Berkeley. In “Freedom Now!” I heard freedom for myself.

After college I reported for Newsweek from “Swinging London”: Carnaby Street and King’s Road, the Who playing the Marquee. Rubber Soul converted me to the Beatles. I interviewed John--abrasive, challenging--and Paul--almost too charming. Newsweek transferred me to San Francisco in time for the Human Be-in in ‘67 as psychedelics, and the Haight-Ashbury became national news. The Fillmore and Avalon Ballrooms were my beat; Janis Joplin and Jerry Garcia my inside sources. At Monterey Pop I sat in the press section and let my mind be blown.

Exciting days--kids my own age beaming big ideas through electric music. At concerts and communes I heard friendly encouragement to be myself. I let my hair grow long and quit Newsweek. Jann Wenner, a gung-ho kid asked me to help start Rolling Stone. After a few issues I left for a hippie cabin in Mendocino, hitchhiking down to the city to cover the Grateful Dead and B. B. King, to join the Rolling Stones on a wild ride across America to Altamont. My first book, Rock Folk, collects those pieces and reflects the tumultuous times I shared with a generation.

I met Ellen Mandel who played piano and encouraged me to try her old Harmony guitar. As soon as I could play the two chords of Bo Diddley’s “I’m a Man,” I was launched. I bought a harmonica, a Gibson flattop, a Bob Dylan songbook, and started writing my own songs. After years of avid listening, I figured I’d add my voice to pop’s worldwide chorus.

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Performance / Tour

Michael Lydon (Tue) Soul of the Blues (Wed) Gnu Vox: Maria Neckam & Sunny Kim (Thu) Gerald Cleaver's Violet Hour (Fri-Sat) This Week at Cornelia Street Cafe

Michael Lydon (Tue) Soul of the Blues  (Wed) Gnu Vox: Maria Neckam & Sunny Kim (Thu) Gerald Cleaver's Violet Hour (Fri-Sat) This Week at Cornelia Street Cafe

Source: Jim Eigo, Jazz Promo Services

CORNELIA STREET CAFE 29 Cornelia Street New York, NY 212-989-9319 between West 4th and Bleecker Sts, Greenwich Village 1 Subway to Sheridan Square; A, C, E, B, D, V, F to West 4th St. This Week At Cornelia Street Cafe Tue Jan 22, 8:30PM JAZZ AND LOVE SONGS - MICHAEL LYDON AND FRIENDS Michael Lydon, guitar, vocals; Claire Daly, baritone saxophone; Ellen Mandel, piano; Dave Hofstra, bass; Rudy ...

Primary Instrument

Guitar

Willing to teach

Beginner to advanced

Credentials/Background

Faculty, Third Street Music School, NYC Private students: $60 an hour

Music

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