Anchor ads are not supported on this page.

4S Ranch Allied Gardens Alpine Baja Balboa Park Bankers Hill Barrio Logan Bay Ho Bay Park Black Mountain Ranch Blossom Valley Bonita Bonsall Borrego Springs Boulevard Campo Cardiff-by-the-Sea Carlsbad Carmel Mountain Carmel Valley Chollas View Chula Vista City College City Heights Clairemont College Area Coronado CSU San Marcos Cuyamaca College Del Cerro Del Mar Descanso Downtown San Diego Eastlake East Village El Cajon Emerald Hills Encanto Encinitas Escondido Fallbrook Fletcher Hills Golden Hill Grant Hill Grantville Grossmont College Guatay Harbor Island Hillcrest Imperial Beach Imperial Valley Jacumba Jamacha-Lomita Jamul Julian Kearny Mesa Kensington La Jolla Lakeside La Mesa Lemon Grove Leucadia Liberty Station Lincoln Acres Lincoln Park Linda Vista Little Italy Logan Heights Mesa College Midway District MiraCosta College Miramar Miramar College Mira Mesa Mission Beach Mission Hills Mission Valley Mountain View Mount Hope Mount Laguna National City Nestor Normal Heights North Park Oak Park Ocean Beach Oceanside Old Town Otay Mesa Pacific Beach Pala Palomar College Palomar Mountain Paradise Hills Pauma Valley Pine Valley Point Loma Point Loma Nazarene Potrero Poway Rainbow Ramona Rancho Bernardo Rancho Penasquitos Rancho San Diego Rancho Santa Fe Rolando San Carlos San Marcos San Onofre Santa Ysabel Santee San Ysidro Scripps Ranch SDSU Serra Mesa Shelltown Shelter Island Sherman Heights Skyline Solana Beach Sorrento Valley Southcrest South Park Southwestern College Spring Valley Stockton Talmadge Temecula Tierrasanta Tijuana UCSD University City University Heights USD Valencia Park Valley Center Vista Warner Springs

Cut to the Heart

His short term as music writer for the San Diego Union

Perhaps the best tribute I can pay to Steve Esmedina, my departed compadre and fellow music critic, is that his legacy truly lives on. Today, 25 years after first having read his work in the then-fledgling Reader, I still vividly remember the essence of many articles he wrote, specific lines from his eloquent critiques, and some of the phrases he coined, such as “tuneless Okie Bob jams” to describe a misbegotten country singer and “grotto mouth” to describe an overwrought young local jazz singer (who shall mercilessly remain nameless).

Jazz bass great Charlie Haden immediately threatened to sue the paper for libel.

Blubbo, to invoke his favorite nickname for himself, was the first music critic whose writing I encountered after moving to San Diego as a teenager in late 1975. The Reader was a very young, slim, and modest publication in those days, but Steve’s writing carried immediate weight. I began writing freelance music reviews for the Reader in early 1976 and recall thinking at the time that it would be a good challenge to measure up to his qualitative standards. I was correct.

Sponsored
Sponsored

We first met in late spring of 1976, and he initially struck me as surprisingly shy and quiet for someone whose words spoke so loudly on the printed page. We gradually became friends of a kind. Since he didn’t have a car and I didn’t drive, our longest conversations usually took place by phone and often covered the latest albums by our favorite artists or our newest discoveries, good, bad, and wretched.

We shared a mutual passion, circa 1976, for blue-eyed Scottish soul singer Frankie Miller, Sun Ra, the Ramones, Little Feat, Nina Simone, pre-“Birdland” Weather Report, Procol Harum, Sarah Vaughan, Graham Parker, and the two Jameses (Brown and Taylor), among others.

As in his reviews, Blubbo rarely minced words in person. His catholic tastes impressed me as much as the depth of his knowledge and his ability to craft words in a manner as artful as it was unaffected. He had an almost unerring knack for discovering worthy new artists early on, from Patti Smith and the band Television to budding progressive jazz dynamos like Anthony Davis, Mark Dresser, and James Newton.

He was fearless in his writing, a trait that earned him devoted fans and outraged detractors, the latter of whom frequently wrote the Reader to express their disdain; question his intelligence, hearing, and parentage; and generally froth at the mouth at his alleged offenses (one of which included dismissing Ann and Nancy Wilson of Heart as rock’s answer to the Virginia Slims ad models).

When the Southern California punk and New Wave scenes began, Blubbo was one of their staunchest supporters, almost single-handedly drumming up local interest in such fledgling bands as X, the Alleycats, the Penetrators, and others. And when Mark Dresser started his Music Forward series in Del Mar and Rob Hagey launched the La Jolla (later San Diego) Jazz Festival, both in the late ’70s, Blubbo used his Reader column to light a fire under this city’s jazz audience, which was even more minuscule at that time than it is now.

By the late ’70s Blubbo and I had also become contributing editors for Kicks, a local music monthly, for which we each wrote columns (his on R&B, mine on jazz). When I briefly became editor for Kicks in its final incarnation in 1981, I found myself editing his film reviews, which were good enough to run almost verbatim.

Sadly, this was not the case later in the decade, when — after becoming pop music critic for the San Diego Union — I successfully lobbied my editor at the time to have Blubbo do some freelance work for the paper. I had been unaware that his downward spiral had begun, but the increasingly erratic quality of his writing quickly became as apparent as his inability to meet deadlines. His brief tenure as a Union freelancer ended the same day we published his interview with jazz bass great Charlie Haden, who, not without just cause, immediately threatened to sue the paper for libel.

I’m sad to say I had less and less contact with Blubbo in the years that followed. But I still fondly remember how, at my request, he used his position at St. Vincent De Paul Thrift Shop to obtain a used bowling ball for me to give as a going-away present to a friend departing on a year-long ornithological expedition to the jungles of Costa Rica. As I recall, Blubbo appreciated the humor of this gesture considerably more than the gift’s recipient.

Along with many others, I deeply regret Blubbo’s passing. I continue to savor his impassioned, insightful writing. And I still fondly recall his ability to instantly cut to the heart of the matter, as he did most memorably at a downtown dinner we both attended in late 1980 at the Old Spaghetti Factory, following a nearby solo concert by James Newton.

Perhaps because one of the people in our party was a teacher, the dinner conversation eventually turned to the poor quality of school lunches. After silently enduring as much debate on the topic as he could stomach, including a spirited argument over the size of individual portions of food given to students, Blubbo finally spoke up. “The issue isn’t the size of the portions of food,” he said, rolling his eyes. “The issue is shitty food.”

When the raucous laughter that ensued finally subsided, another topic of conversation began. Blubbo’s first words on school food were the last that needed to be said, and he approached his writing about music in the same no-nonsense manner.

So adios, compadre. I’ll think of you when I’m enjoying good music, or enduring the aural equivalent of mediocre school food.

The latest copy of the Reader

Please enjoy this clickable Reader flipbook. Linked text and ads are flash-highlighted in blue for your convenience. To enhance your viewing, please open full screen mode by clicking the icon on the far right of the black flipbook toolbar.

Here's something you might be interested in.
Submit a free classified
or view all
Previous article

At 4pm, this Farmer's Table restaurant in Chula Vista becomes Acqua e Farina

Brunch restaurant by day, Roman style trattoria by night

Perhaps the best tribute I can pay to Steve Esmedina, my departed compadre and fellow music critic, is that his legacy truly lives on. Today, 25 years after first having read his work in the then-fledgling Reader, I still vividly remember the essence of many articles he wrote, specific lines from his eloquent critiques, and some of the phrases he coined, such as “tuneless Okie Bob jams” to describe a misbegotten country singer and “grotto mouth” to describe an overwrought young local jazz singer (who shall mercilessly remain nameless).

Jazz bass great Charlie Haden immediately threatened to sue the paper for libel.

Blubbo, to invoke his favorite nickname for himself, was the first music critic whose writing I encountered after moving to San Diego as a teenager in late 1975. The Reader was a very young, slim, and modest publication in those days, but Steve’s writing carried immediate weight. I began writing freelance music reviews for the Reader in early 1976 and recall thinking at the time that it would be a good challenge to measure up to his qualitative standards. I was correct.

Sponsored
Sponsored

We first met in late spring of 1976, and he initially struck me as surprisingly shy and quiet for someone whose words spoke so loudly on the printed page. We gradually became friends of a kind. Since he didn’t have a car and I didn’t drive, our longest conversations usually took place by phone and often covered the latest albums by our favorite artists or our newest discoveries, good, bad, and wretched.

We shared a mutual passion, circa 1976, for blue-eyed Scottish soul singer Frankie Miller, Sun Ra, the Ramones, Little Feat, Nina Simone, pre-“Birdland” Weather Report, Procol Harum, Sarah Vaughan, Graham Parker, and the two Jameses (Brown and Taylor), among others.

As in his reviews, Blubbo rarely minced words in person. His catholic tastes impressed me as much as the depth of his knowledge and his ability to craft words in a manner as artful as it was unaffected. He had an almost unerring knack for discovering worthy new artists early on, from Patti Smith and the band Television to budding progressive jazz dynamos like Anthony Davis, Mark Dresser, and James Newton.

He was fearless in his writing, a trait that earned him devoted fans and outraged detractors, the latter of whom frequently wrote the Reader to express their disdain; question his intelligence, hearing, and parentage; and generally froth at the mouth at his alleged offenses (one of which included dismissing Ann and Nancy Wilson of Heart as rock’s answer to the Virginia Slims ad models).

When the Southern California punk and New Wave scenes began, Blubbo was one of their staunchest supporters, almost single-handedly drumming up local interest in such fledgling bands as X, the Alleycats, the Penetrators, and others. And when Mark Dresser started his Music Forward series in Del Mar and Rob Hagey launched the La Jolla (later San Diego) Jazz Festival, both in the late ’70s, Blubbo used his Reader column to light a fire under this city’s jazz audience, which was even more minuscule at that time than it is now.

By the late ’70s Blubbo and I had also become contributing editors for Kicks, a local music monthly, for which we each wrote columns (his on R&B, mine on jazz). When I briefly became editor for Kicks in its final incarnation in 1981, I found myself editing his film reviews, which were good enough to run almost verbatim.

Sadly, this was not the case later in the decade, when — after becoming pop music critic for the San Diego Union — I successfully lobbied my editor at the time to have Blubbo do some freelance work for the paper. I had been unaware that his downward spiral had begun, but the increasingly erratic quality of his writing quickly became as apparent as his inability to meet deadlines. His brief tenure as a Union freelancer ended the same day we published his interview with jazz bass great Charlie Haden, who, not without just cause, immediately threatened to sue the paper for libel.

I’m sad to say I had less and less contact with Blubbo in the years that followed. But I still fondly remember how, at my request, he used his position at St. Vincent De Paul Thrift Shop to obtain a used bowling ball for me to give as a going-away present to a friend departing on a year-long ornithological expedition to the jungles of Costa Rica. As I recall, Blubbo appreciated the humor of this gesture considerably more than the gift’s recipient.

Along with many others, I deeply regret Blubbo’s passing. I continue to savor his impassioned, insightful writing. And I still fondly recall his ability to instantly cut to the heart of the matter, as he did most memorably at a downtown dinner we both attended in late 1980 at the Old Spaghetti Factory, following a nearby solo concert by James Newton.

Perhaps because one of the people in our party was a teacher, the dinner conversation eventually turned to the poor quality of school lunches. After silently enduring as much debate on the topic as he could stomach, including a spirited argument over the size of individual portions of food given to students, Blubbo finally spoke up. “The issue isn’t the size of the portions of food,” he said, rolling his eyes. “The issue is shitty food.”

When the raucous laughter that ensued finally subsided, another topic of conversation began. Blubbo’s first words on school food were the last that needed to be said, and he approached his writing about music in the same no-nonsense manner.

So adios, compadre. I’ll think of you when I’m enjoying good music, or enduring the aural equivalent of mediocre school food.

Comments
Sponsored

The latest copy of the Reader

Please enjoy this clickable Reader flipbook. Linked text and ads are flash-highlighted in blue for your convenience. To enhance your viewing, please open full screen mode by clicking the icon on the far right of the black flipbook toolbar.

Here's something you might be interested in.
Submit a free classified
or view all
Previous article

Wild Wild Wets, Todo Mundo, Creepy Creeps, Laura Cantrell, Graham Nancarrow

Rock, Latin reggae, and country music in Little Italy, Oceanside, Carlsbad, Harbor Island
Next Article

Everything You’ve Ever Wanted To Know About doTERRA

Comments
Ask a Hipster — Advice you didn't know you needed Big Screen — Movie commentary Blurt — Music's inside track Booze News — San Diego spirits Classical Music — Immortal beauty Classifieds — Free and easy Cover Stories — Front-page features Drinks All Around — Bartenders' drink recipes Excerpts — Literary and spiritual excerpts Feast! — Food & drink reviews Feature Stories — Local news & stories Fishing Report — What’s getting hooked from ship and shore From the Archives — Spotlight on the past Golden Dreams — Talk of the town The Gonzo Report — Making the musical scene, or at least reporting from it Letters — Our inbox Movies@Home — Local movie buffs share favorites Movie Reviews — Our critics' picks and pans Musician Interviews — Up close with local artists Neighborhood News from Stringers — Hyperlocal news News Ticker — News & politics Obermeyer — San Diego politics illustrated Outdoors — Weekly changes in flora and fauna Overheard in San Diego — Eavesdropping illustrated Poetry — The old and the new Reader Travel — Travel section built by travelers Reading — The hunt for intellectuals Roam-O-Rama — SoCal's best hiking/biking trails San Diego Beer — Inside San Diego suds SD on the QT — Almost factual news Sheep and Goats — Places of worship Special Issues — The best of Street Style — San Diego streets have style Surf Diego — Real stories from those braving the waves Theater — On stage in San Diego this week Tin Fork — Silver spoon alternative Under the Radar — Matt Potter's undercover work Unforgettable — Long-ago San Diego Unreal Estate — San Diego's priciest pads Your Week — Daily event picks
4S Ranch Allied Gardens Alpine Baja Balboa Park Bankers Hill Barrio Logan Bay Ho Bay Park Black Mountain Ranch Blossom Valley Bonita Bonsall Borrego Springs Boulevard Campo Cardiff-by-the-Sea Carlsbad Carmel Mountain Carmel Valley Chollas View Chula Vista City College City Heights Clairemont College Area Coronado CSU San Marcos Cuyamaca College Del Cerro Del Mar Descanso Downtown San Diego Eastlake East Village El Cajon Emerald Hills Encanto Encinitas Escondido Fallbrook Fletcher Hills Golden Hill Grant Hill Grantville Grossmont College Guatay Harbor Island Hillcrest Imperial Beach Imperial Valley Jacumba Jamacha-Lomita Jamul Julian Kearny Mesa Kensington La Jolla Lakeside La Mesa Lemon Grove Leucadia Liberty Station Lincoln Acres Lincoln Park Linda Vista Little Italy Logan Heights Mesa College Midway District MiraCosta College Miramar Miramar College Mira Mesa Mission Beach Mission Hills Mission Valley Mountain View Mount Hope Mount Laguna National City Nestor Normal Heights North Park Oak Park Ocean Beach Oceanside Old Town Otay Mesa Pacific Beach Pala Palomar College Palomar Mountain Paradise Hills Pauma Valley Pine Valley Point Loma Point Loma Nazarene Potrero Poway Rainbow Ramona Rancho Bernardo Rancho Penasquitos Rancho San Diego Rancho Santa Fe Rolando San Carlos San Marcos San Onofre Santa Ysabel Santee San Ysidro Scripps Ranch SDSU Serra Mesa Shelltown Shelter Island Sherman Heights Skyline Solana Beach Sorrento Valley Southcrest South Park Southwestern College Spring Valley Stockton Talmadge Temecula Tierrasanta Tijuana UCSD University City University Heights USD Valencia Park Valley Center Vista Warner Springs
Close

Anchor ads are not supported on this page.

This Week’s Reader This Week’s Reader