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Showing posts from July, 2025

Willie Dixon: Blues Prophet or Copyright Pirate?

  🎩 Willie Dixon: Prophet or Pirate? by Dark Side Johnny 🔥 DarkSideJohnnyRocks.blogspot.com 🔥 “The blues are the roots. The rest are the fruits.” — Willie Dixon Every now and then, you stumble across a soul whose name is inked so deep into the music that it’s hard to tell where the man ends and the myth begins. Willie Dixon is one of those names. If you flip through the credits of rock and blues records from the ‘50s and ‘60s — especially those pouring outta Chess Records — you’ll see him everywhere . Bassist. Producer. Songwriter. Shaman. Shadow. Sometimes even a question mark. But here's the rub: Was Willie Dixon the prophet who preserved the spirit of the blues for generations to come… or the pirate who planted his flag in land already claimed by the voices of juke joints and cotton fields? ⚓ The Pirate Case: Let’s not sugarcoat it — a lotta folks whisper that Dixon took credit for songs already bouncing around the South long before microphones were plugg...

The Flossfather of Montana

 A short story inspired by Frank Zappa's Montana. Title: "The Flossfather of Montana" They said he was crazy. They weren’t wrong. It all started in a burned-out apartment above a pawn shop in East Cleveland, where Marvin P. Blister lived off ramen noodles, Zappa bootlegs, and a dream that didn’t make any sense to anyone but him. He didn’t want to be rich. He didn’t want fame. Marvin wanted to be... a dental floss tycoon. Not toothpaste. Not mouthwash. Not some hotshot orthodontist with a TikTok channel. No, Marvin had a calling. It came to him during a three-day mescaline trip while listening to Over-Nite Sensation on loop. "I heard Zappa whisper it, man," he told his cat, Chairman Meow. "I gotta move to Montana. Gonna grow me some dental floss." Chairman Meow didn’t argue. He rarely did. Montana didn’t welcome Marvin so much as tolerate him. He rolled in with a rusted El Camino, $312 in cash, and a crate of experimental hemp seeds he swore cou...