I swear, my last name really is Prophet
It took San Francisco slacker Chuck Prophet nine albums and a slew of collaborations to score the acclaim he deserves. His breakout, the killer ¡Let Freedom Ring!, was recorded at a $7-a-day studio in Mexico City during the height of the swine flu epidemic. Prophet rang in the New Year with cuts from that album last Saturday at the Continental Club, among them this one about a mostly silent assassin:
“Sonny Liston’s Blues”
