John Troy’s Crunchy Groove Sack


What is American music? The answer is as various and motley as America’s history and culture. As a (still) performing musician with over forty years’ experience in the musical trenches as a sideman to the stars, ensemble player, and solo artist, I am in the happy position to offer esoteric insight and perspective on the songs we will enjoy together. We will learn how songs have been interpreted and re-interpreted through the years. We will cull songs from genres across the musical spectrum and we will discover artists who, though little known or forgotten, cast a long shadow down to the present day. We will realize how all these different styles are connected. And, finally, we will be reminded that songs, like people, stand on the shoulders of what came before.

Are you interested in music? Well, so am I. Listen!


John Troy is in partnership with Taylor Guitars, Warwick Basses and Trickfish Amplification.

links: Podcast Playlists

Just to bother you and ruin everything, pushin’ something around in the dirt, sounded kinda dorky, little stabs, he incorporated it into his bottom, on the fly, holding it down, I never ask that question, failed miserably, you know how to swallow, perfectly imperfect.
Bare bones, back to the head, jazzy here on the sack, says it without saying it, just a wreck, it’s not working, the least worst, you can’t help but weep, unmiffed, like rock should be, kicking and screaming, erotic in nature, playing footballs, the low end cooks.
Unbelievable, you’re just fat, I don’t like that cough, typical male, when you crap out, fell down dead, high-falutin’ Greek, not New Jersey, I don’t mean chipper, too darn slippery, stick it to the man, your world shrinks, he just hates her when she chews, Brian was a little fragile, my mother cried.
It’s actually Steve, some kind of genius, one handful of popcorn, horn turnaround, how’s your terror?, ended up in Hoboken, put it on the one, hoodat, oh boy I can’t wait, it blew mine, a buncha little chicks, don’t need any stinkin’ drums, a goat in her throat, the kill strike.
The world’s biggest bathroom, I’ll be very disappointed, you should do that, stabbing chord changes, I smoked a bone, everybody would just lose their minds, a scary band, the right thing to do, I had to censor that myself, hoping for a train wreck, something like sausages, knock ‘em back, a classy joint, Dinah might […]
Everything comes from the blues, a beer bottle, the most handsome man who ever lived, a drone, Thunder Thumbs, strange and beautiful, boom pack, where you hit it, better than Americans, more than enough rope, more happy, turn my wife loose, imagine this being a hit.
I might ruin it, bingle jells, stuff your pud, stroking to the other end, perfect for running, holding the pointy end, gimme that one, sorta winging it, there ain’t nuthin’ I can do about it, James Jamerson killing it, I was lucky, let’s give Satan some.
No matter what they tell you, bubbled and stewed, weird turnaround, take a hint, try to forget that ever happened, restate the head, inured to mediocrity, don’t tense up, everybody has ‘em, the original boat, the way he sticks it in there, hear here, strap in, a big hole.
Was really hot, it’s a thing, you know you’re talking about a resonator, what do I say, as if, doo wacka doo, you’re connected to Elvis, Satan returned to earth, organic avocado, urban combat, Hey Pee, appealing restraint, these guys were monsters, get that thumb going.
Chicken pickin’, not political, horror and disbelief, tiny penis, pump first, reiterate the head, that’s French, a group of women, screw around with musicians, a kilo of weed, trust but verify, you can’t come, tag it, get inked, jump salty, something that burns, crazy but it works, hammer on, hammer off, all I’m trying to […]