Dennis Callaci’s book “100 Cassettes” arrived via Pelekinesis in February. The book includes a forward by Jonathan Lethem and an afterword by Allen Callaci. You can buy it direct from Pelekinesis where you will get an additional chap book featuring full color reproductions of all one hundred cassettes written about in the book that were featured in the initial installation at The dA Center for the Arts in 2018. The companion CD or cassette “The Dead of The Day” is available from Grapefruit and Revolver. Digital download via Revolver. Hear him discuss both in an interview on the Beginnings podcast:

Here is a portion on his chapter on the Little Richard/Joe Meek chapter from the book:

They all mostly got lost in the flood of 1964, but there were some paths out. Chuck had his 1972 record “London” that featured a pick up band made up of members of The Faces, Van Der Graaf Generator and The Average White Band, Elvis had his ’68 Comeback, Roy Orbison got his later in life, but far more interesting are those lost Orbison years and the possibility of what could have been in the sixties through the seventies had these artists been given the space to stretch out if pop music been looked at as something more than jukebox throw aways. You can hear a touch of this in the single by Orbison, “Southbound Jericho Parkway”. It was produced by the members of Neon Philharmonic in 1969. With its nods to “A Day In The Life” and “MacArthur Park”, in both its scope and open ended lyrics married to some soft psych guitar, sitar and Tom Wilsonesque production, it is a found masterpiece. Producers were relegated to the side stages, with maybe a George Martin here or a producer that was given credit for finding new talent there, not so much engaged in the act of recording/producing music with an ear for possibility. Thunderclap Newman, Gary Wright, “Undercover Angel”, “Dragging The Line”, they were all big zeroes.
No one then would give the Big O the time or the attention that he deserved. A burnt down house, a family surrendered, but still he went on beyond the hot lava flows. Little Richard, he speaks in a deep low baritone when he isn’t on Matchgame 76′, Press Your Luck 80′ or Christmas specials. It is no wonder his back ached and he could barely move. What with earing them wigs and them jewels to just catch your attention while back to the church he did sing. Fair weathered, unforgiving crowds were then searching the inner nets of their souls, self-help medicating to a Phil Donahue, Mommy and me Marlo Thomas pink vinyl line. We were waiting then for Screaming Lord Sutch to wake him from his coffined interior life, waiting for Willie Mitchell to appear for a comeback record production credit. Still in the stands with popcorn and over sized ten dollar programs for a bell bottomed Glyn Johns to offer his RV of equipment to record the man’s vocals bouncing off of smoke veined mirrors. The book can be ordered direct from Pelekinesis

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