The Freedom of Music: Long Lost Song
One likes to believe in the freedom of music.Rush – Spirit of Radio.
Bob Segarini is a California born musician, who made a nem for himself mostly in aCanada, He known for his songwriting as much as performance. With a number of albums and a couple of charting singes, Segarini had a nice career in the 70’s Canadian music scene. And when April Wine, a band with a number of original songs under it’s belt by 1977, opened for the Rolling Stones at the El Mocambo in that year, the subsequent live album had 2 Segarini penned tunes: Teenage Love and Juvenile Delinquent.
In the early 80’s, Segarini took a gig as a night time radio host Toronto’s newest rock radio station, Q107. He worked under the nom de plume The Iceman, and with his distinctive deep – very deep – voice he was unique in the Toronto radio landscape. His rant against Iron Maiden and their song Number of the Beast, at a time when rock music was under pressure for supposed links to Satinism, is one of the most memorable half minutes on radio.
By the mid-1980’s he was in the coveted afternoon drive slot on Q107, after a few years hiatus from the radio business. At the same time, I was working at my local IGA, spending afternoons in the basement trimming lettuce, bagging oranges and doing all the various and sundry duties that your local green grocer spends his afternoons doing. Naturally, I listened to the radio: The Iceman on Q107.
In 1984 he began playing a cool song at the same time every day. For what seemed longer, but can only have been a couple of weeks, this song would come on and there would be a few of us around the radio. Then, after a few weeks, he stopped playing it, just as suddenly as he started. The song just went away. Life’s busy and some song by a one hit wonder gets lost in the mix. I never went out and bought the single or the album, so the song faded from memory.
Over the years I thought of the song, wondered why I never heard it again? Occasional internet searches produced nothing, and seeing as I couldn’t remember what it was called or who sang it, that’s hardly surprising. It was possible the singer was a Kershaw, and as it bore a similarity to Nik Kershaw’s Wouldn’t it be Good, that seemed possible, but searches of his discography, as well as Sammy and Doug Kershaw’s respective discography’s produced nothing. That seems hardly surprising considering all I remembered was it was the early 80’s, and he sang something about Uncle Sonny coming home from prison. Not much to go on.
A few weeks ago on an message board, a thread about songs that you can’t find popped up. I posted more or less the above description of the song: played in the early 80’s on Iceman’s radio show on Q107; About an uncle coming home from prison. It seemed unlikely that anyone would be able to pin down my song from that, and alas, it was… for 4-minutes anyway. On minute five, someone responded:
I’m thinking that this song could be Tony Carey’s, “A Fine Fine Day”
, which was a huge hit from Canada.
With included YouTube video (no wonder it took so long to reply, having to find the video first and all), I could confirm in a matter of one verse and chorus that this was, in fact, the song I wondered what the hell it was called for twenty-plus years.
Say what you want about how the internet has ruined the music business, but I have wondered what this song is called for years, and within ten minutes of asking on a website I was on iTunes, spending 69c for a song that would have cost me 99c in 1984, if I had bought the single. After all these years, Tony Carey is finally getting the few pennies I feel I owe him, for the mystery he has added to my life if nothing else.
It’s in truth just a pretty good 80’s song. The writing is good, and comes with an actual storyline, and the chorus has a solid pop hook. The verse, however, is dragged down by cheesy 80’s synth sound where an overdriven guitar would improve it immensely. None the less, I’ve listened to it more in the last couple of weeks than I probably ever heard it in 1984, and doubt I will ever forget the chorus again.
What a treat it has been, a long lost gem, returned to me to enjoy again and again. It is, indeed, a fine, fine day.
The Count, The Freedom of Music, This Week on my I-Pod, Tibet
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