Released March 19, 2016: Winter Breaks. 8 tracks; a mix of instrumentals and songs; 41 minutes; Power Pop, Jazz, Prog (!), GLORIOUSLY experimental. Composed, performed, recorded and produced by Tom Hedrick. ©2016 Thomas B. Hedrick/Tom Hedrick Music - ASCAP
Just released (Oct. 1, 2015): My ninth solo record, Yimmer. 20 songs! 42 minutes! More fun than watching a car rust! Medleys! Laughs! Manic guitar! Inspiring lyrics! Everything you could hope or dream for in this seamless collection of aural delights. Available now from CD Baby: http://www.cdbaby.com/cd/tomhedrick5
The FREE CD giveaway is going on. Email me at firstname.lastname@example.org with your postal address if you want free copies of "As If!" and "Red Giant".
Next up... instrumental pieces for a friend back in Buffalo, NY for an upcoming dance recital. These pieces may become the second half of Night Light.
New song posted, "Crown Vic", a power pop/bubblegum special about big cars and stalking girlfriends. Peace... TH
He really is. Listen to his music now.
Trying to set a land speed record for a new tune, "Church Key". Kind of an itch I just have to scratch before I move onto the other stuff.
I'm a huge supporter of other musicians and I love to listen to all sorts of genres. I leave comments on ReverbNation and I like to share song links on Facebook.
If it seems like it takes a while for me to get to the music, understand that I have to go on "listening binges" on the weekends (and if I'm lucky, perhaps one night during the week). That's what my schedule allows, so I do the best I can. But trust me, I recognize the responsibility of musicians to have each other's back. More importantly, there's just a lot of good stuff out there to discover and I think it's fun to share the music you enjoy.
Peace, everyone. TH
I am four songs into full length album number 7 and the eighth release overall. While the collection was going to be titled "Kinda Sorta", solicited opinions now seem to favor "Night Light".
I thought I was going to throw up; calling this older guy that I hadn't spoken with in ages. He was way too cool for me. In any event, I walked to the small, round table that was home to our rotary dial telephone. I looked up Gray’s number in the white pages, temporarily denying Dale one of his "drums". I found what I presumed to be the correct listing under his father's name on a nearby street, about six blocks away from my home, and dialed the number..."szzzz....szzzz....szzzz..."
The ringing sound resonated in the receiver. One ring, two, three...and... "Hello". It was him. I recognized the voice, though now deeper than the one I knew from little league. No sibling or parent to screen the call – I had reached the man himself.
"Gray?" I queried. "Tom", he replied, in a very calm and unsurprised manner. My God, how did he know it was me? I didn't think to ask. I got right to business. "Dale said I should call you. We're starting a band and wondered if you'd like to jam with us." "When do you want to do that?”, he asked. He seemed genuinely intrigued by the idea. "Whenever you want", I answered back. "We're here now in my living room." "Where is that? I can come right over." I proceeded to provide the address, thanked him for agreeing to come over and hung up. "He's coming over NOW", I practically shouted to Dale. "What now?", was the obvious rhetorical question, although I'm not sure Dale answered the question. Time betrays my memory.
I similarly don't remember anything about Gray's arrival on my doorstep, or how we demonstrated our, um "skills", but one thing was clear: Dale's drumming on telephone books was of great distaste to Mr. Howes. At some juncture, perhaps as early as that evening or the next day, Gray telephoned and got straight to the point, "You sound OK for a beginner, and I think I can help you. And you and I should jam together here at my house. But we're not going to start a band with a telephone book drummer. We can find a drummer with a kit."
I was faced with a hard choice. Dale had been supportive, loyal and helpful, but his dreamt-of drum set was nowhere near happening, and we were going to be depending on the Bell Telephone System for our percussion needs for an indefinite period. It was either that, or go "drum-less" for a while and try to learn rock guitar from an older boy who was willing to bring me along for a new adventure. I chose the latter.
I don't remember how Dale and I parted ways. What I clearly remember is the first time I showed up on Brendel Avenue - Village of Hamburg, NY - on a cold winter evening early in 1979 and situated myself on a sofa in the enclosed porch of the Howes residence. Gray had a small Gibson amp. We plugged both of our guitars into it. He dropped the needle on the record player. "I'm going to teach you an easy one".
The distorted vocals came through the speakers..."I AM IRONMAN!"
We were on our way.