Скачать или смотреть Bob Krogh - "January Blues" - Full Album

Or Rex Havok — “This Guy’s the Limit”

Tracks by:
Bob Krogh – vocals, guitars, bass, percussion
Nathan Frazer – harmonica, synth, drum machine, backing vocals, engineering
Steve Richardson – washtub bass

Photos by: Steve Richardson & Nathan Frazer
Mixed on Bob’s stereo

Rest in peace, Rex. You made something beautiful.
#DIYAlbum #Rock #HomeRecording #LoFiRock #IndieRock #MinnesotaMusic #RexHavok #ThisGuysTheLimit #singersongwriter #bobkrogh #januaryblues

Track Listing
:14 Big Train
5:00 January Blues
8:52 Full of the Moon
15:44 Leaf in the Breeze
19:38 Chasin’ Love
24:39 Paradox
27:56 Musta Been in Love
37:11 Warrior in Hiding
43:48 Kaladrogh
46:24 Are You Awake
52:32 Kaladrogh (Reprise)

It’s hard to say if Bob was serious when he wanted this album called Rex Havok — “This Guy’s the Limit.”

I was hanging out with him one night, picking guitar, and talking about how Marty and I had been practicing. This was 2013. The Gas Light had closed, so our steady gig was gone. Instead of playing out, Marty and I started practicing every Friday night. Bob looked at me and laughed—“Practicing?” he said, half-incredulously. Then we got back to talking and playing music. I was playing him my originals, and he played me some of his. I was blown away by his songs.

About a week later, I got a call on a Saturday morning:
“Hey, wanna come over and practice?”
Apparently, the idea had stuck. I’d been really encouraging about his originals, and I had a little home studio setup. When he called, I was actually working on some of my own tracks. I remember quickly calculating how long it would take to tear everything down and haul it over to his studio apartment. So I said, “We could do that—or I could bring some of my recording gear over and we could do a session of your songs?”

He seemed a little doubtful. I think he just wanted to jam. But Bob was always up for trying something. So about an hour later, I was at his place setting up mics while he sat at the kitchen counter, watching me like I was building a spaceship.
He lived in a loft above a garage. Beautiful little place—open floor plan, lots of natural reverb. Great for playing and singing. I got everything set: guitar mic, vocal mic. He sat on a barstool and played “January Blues.” I had him listen back.

“OK,” he said. “Let’s do another.”

I can’t remember exactly how many we did that first day—maybe two or three. Just guitar and vocal. We listened back, did a quick mix, and I burned him a CD.
He called later and said he had more songs he wanted to record.

“Can you bring your computer over again?”

So over the course of that winter— January 2013 to May—we made this recording.

We used what we had: a couple old guitars, a computer, Logic Pro, $100 AT mics, whiskey and beer. It was messy sometimes. But he liked it. He was so grateful to get his songs down. I thought we were making demos. But to him, this was an album. He had the parts in his head, and he wanted to make something he could share with the world. He was the driver. The producer. I was just the engineer.

We’d usually start in the afternoon and go until about 8. Mostly Saturdays. From January to May. Lots of parties up there too. Lots of whiskey. (For the voice, you know?)
We had a lot of fun. I’d guess we put in 20–30 hours tracking, with all the overdubs. The mix was always evolving. But this is the mix he wanted.

Eventually, my computer started acting up—or maybe it was the interface—but the album was never fully “finished.” There was only one thing left Bob wanted: a drunken chorus at the end of “Leaf in the Breeze.”

He asked me what it would take to make a CD. I gave him the specs from CD Baby, the costs, the artwork needs (which he could’ve done himself). He didn’t quite have the gumption to get it that far, and I was busy working on Gunn Town and other projects. Still, he was happy with what we made. But I know he would’ve loved to share this collection far and wide.

He was proud of it. He’d play it for anyone who stopped by. And it did sound good on his stereo—that’s how we mixed it. I’d plug my computer into his system, and he’d tell me what to tweak. So if something sounds a little strange on your earbuds or laptop speakers, that’s why—it was mixed on a big old stereo.

Rest in peace, Rex.

Robert Michael Krogh was born on May 15th 1953 and Died on April 9th 2025. He was a talented artist, and a good friend.