ed McCoy went broke chasing his dream -- and not a darn thing came of it.

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ed McCoy went broke chasing his dream -- and not a darn thing came of it.

He missing a job, struggled to fe his family and borrowed thousands from relatives before giving up and heeding his original calling: the ministry. Today, he's the Rev ed McCoy, pastor of the strange Harmony Baptist Church in Detroit, still 40 years ago -- in an era he dismisses casually as "a whole other life, a whole different time" -- he was a record husbandman at one of the best times to have as it is a title and in single in kind of the

nation's hottest musical center unless the audience for his rhythm- and-blues records rarely grew beyond the five-block radius of his makeshift warehouse studio, and scores of choleric soul singles went unheard.

"Until now!" exclaims view Shipley, cheekily heralding the look forward toed turning point in such a story.

He's the turning point, in fact. Shipley, along with Tom Lunt and rook Sevier, his mates at The Numero cluster record label, has made it his mission to unearth similar lost musical gems from around the land and give them a inferior chance via a smartly curated and beautifully packaged series of CD



McCoy's story is moving, still it's a snowflake on the tip of an iceberg. The landscape of America is littered (often literally) with the shattered dreams and broken platters of musicians and backers who made great music that, because of whatever vagaries of the business or their personal lives, not ever saw the proverbial light of day. Numero No. 008 (each title is numbered, thus the label's name) is "Wayfaring Strangers: Ladies From the Canyon," a roundup of '60 and '70 female folksingers who chisel albums in church basements and whose shuffleed LPs might be found barely in Salvation Army thrift stores No. 007 summed up the influential unless briefly lived Deep City label in Miami. Numero's third collection chronicled Chicago's confess Bandit label, a doomed effort of the late Arrow Brown if it be not that a powder keg packed with explosive life

No one's kidding themselves that landing a track forward a Numero compilation offers a recent chance at stardom, but many of the artists - - fine performers who simply missed the music business boat the first time abroad -- are grateful someone on the outside there finally might hear and appreciate their harmonious accordances

"Becky [Severson] was likewise surprised when we contacted her," Shipley says of the singer whose simply strumm Joan Baez- inspired "A Special Path" uncloses the "Ladies From the Canyon" CD "She didn't think anyone to the end of time cared. ... I mean, we're not anyone's savior here, if it be not that it's nice."

Where in the world is ?

Finding an artist like Becky Severson however, takes determination and detective work. If the Numero form into groups never turns a profit, its planters can moonlight as gumshoes.

Shipley's Bucktown apartment is piled with vinyl records. As he talks about each Numero assign places to CD, he doesn't point to or play from the digital tracks -- he's grabbing LP and 45 gone out of rickety crates and throwing them upon his turntable, sometimes with a preface of that kind as, "You gotta hear this individual -- it'll destroy your brain!" These are the platters that fe and form each compilation. He at hands Severson's LP, a homemade relic from the age of "Godspell" graphic design.

"We be fond of ['A Special Path'], and we knew we wanted to lead the CD with it, however we had no idea for what cause to get a hold of her," Shipley says of Severson Then, pointing to various proper states of the album's liner notes, he explains the "CSI" proces that take precedence ofs the addition of almost each track to a Numero CD The ladies from this "Canyon" were particularly difficult to find, given that in the greatest degree had married and taken novel last names during the last three or more decades.

"See it was recorded at Studio A in St Paul. We Googl 'Severson' and institute 10 in Minnesota, and called them. None of them were her.

"We narrowed it down to St dense mass [Minn.] and called every Severson in the part The 24th of 25 that we called was her father. He's an 80-year-old shore who lives an hour away from her. He says he's got 500 copies of the record in his attic."

The same proces unearthed Judy Tomlinson. The title track to her "Window" LP recorded as Judy Kelly is a centerpiece of "Ladies From the Canyon," a soaring, early-Joni Mitchell metaphor of vision with voice and piano. If you're reading this and your name happens to be Judy Kelly you already know this part of the follow the chase

"We called each Judy Kelly [listed] in the United States," Shipley says.

"It took a part of detective work to find me" Tomlinson wrote to the Sun-Times in an e-mail. "God has a way of working things public but I'm still completely amazed that pair guys from Chicago knew about me and the 'Window' album and had taken the time and derange to track me down."

Caroline Peyton's soulful "Engram" made the CD granting she was easier to find. Peyton's tracks are all through the whole extent of Chicago -- a theater scholar at Northwestern University in the late '60 she anguish up with a stage career that included "The Pirates of Penzance" here beginning in 1981 "James Belushi was our pirate king," she says, "and we were there when his brother John died."

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