In celebration of Zimmy's 70th today, a few choice tracks...

"One More Cup of Coffee" from Desire



"It Takes a Lot to Laugh It Takes a Train to Cry" from Highway 61 Revisited



"Visions of Johanna" from The Bootleg Series Vol. 4: Bob Dylan Live 1966 the "Royal Albert Hall" Concert



"When I Paint My Masterpiece" covered by the Band from Cahoots



"Mississippi" from Love and Theft



"Sara" from Desire



"Forever Young" from Planet Waves

Today, local SF label Secret Seven Records releases Tiny Tim: Lost and Found, a collection of rarities! To celebrate, we've got an interview with one of the country's foremost experts on Mr. Tiny Tim, Justin Martell, who is in the process of writing an authorized biography of the musician, which will hopefully be out by Christmas, 2011. He has also been a consultant on and contributed liner notes to two posthumous Tiny Tim releases, I've Never Seen a Straight Banana (Collector's Choice Records, 2009) and this latest release to be discussed in the interview below. Basically, when it comes to Tiny Tim, he's the man.

Read on to learn much more about Tiny Tim's life and career, as well as the special stuff on Tiny Tim: Lost and Found!

Also, you can hear "If I Had a Talking Picture of You" from the new release right here!

How did Lost & Found come about?

If you're trying to escape the inevitable -- late fall's chill in the air -- then slip into an easy sense of denial by listening to Bobby Charles' self titled 1972 album.

The album is bursting with the organic sound of Bearsville, NY in the early 70s crossed with a dash of Cajun spice and that simple, ephemeral combination will warm you right up again.

Bobby Charles is an idiosyncratic songwriter from Louisiana who wrote "See You Later Alligator," known mainly as covered by Bill Haley and His Comets. Charles wasn't one for fame, and hid behind artists like Muddy Waters who covered his work, allowing him to pay the bills. I'm not sure why exactly, but somehow in the early 70s he ended up in Bearsville, New York, hanging out with the likes of Bob Dylan and The Band. That friendship is reflected in the album's sound as well as its production, which is by Rick Danko and John Simon (who also put out at least one excellent solo album). Members of The Band no doubt also contributed musically to this album, though with the exception of a songwriting credit for Danko, they are uncredited.

The album's songs are instantly pleasing through and through. They alternatively ramble along and bound forward energetically, but all the tracks glow with an animated heat that will take that chill right out of you: quite the accomplishment for such a hermetic kind of guy! There's also some sweet, sunshiney love songs on this album that'll have you feeling the sun on your shoulders again and make the return of spring seem not so far away anymore. It's all very bucolic and idyllic, as you shall see.

The past few days I have really been getting into the new Karen Dalton release, Green Rocky Road.

I am a big fan of Dalton's studio albums, It's So Hard To Tell Who's Going To Love You the Best (1969) and In My Own Time (1971). When I first heard them, they seemed like precious relics from the past. It also seemed unlikely anything else of hers would ever be uncovered and released, but now, just a few years later, there have been reissues and even video footage released!

Dalton's life story is very compelling. She seems to have lived on her own terms, with little compromise and a lot of eccentricity and self destruction. Basically, Karen was a free spirit. She was half Native American and grew up in Oklahoma. She married and had two kids by the time she was 21. She also played banjo and 12 string guitar. Dalton left her husband and moved to New York in time to take part in the early '60s Greenwich Village scene, playing clubs and hanging out with Bob Dylan and Fred Neil. Later, she moved north to Woodstock, where she was surrounded by a creative community that included her friends and sometime lovers The Band. Her two albums never sold well and she slipped into obscurity, heartbroken. Eventually, after a life of drinking and drug abuse, she died of AIDS in New York in 1993.

Her voice is unmistakable: a craggy, worn sound that cracks and warbles its way through old folk standards. Green Rocky Road is a 1963 recording of Karen in her home, something never intended for release. Her sound lends itself to this type of setting and is only enhanced by the intimacy of the recording. Dalton slowly winds her way through the songs, taking her time and allowing her throaty voice to coat the jingle jangle of her banjo accompaniment. It's well-known that Karen hated being in the studio, and though her two official albums are extremely well worth seeking out, there is a certain pleasure, a palpable ease and comfort that the informed listener can wring from her voice in these home recordings that may be lacking from the studio records. It's also enjoyable to listen for the idiosyncrasies of the recording: her mother's voice, a phone constantly ringing, picking errors that simply serve to remind me of the organic nature of song. Dalton's voice is haunting and like no one else's.