The Greatest Songs of The Sixties - Musicians

Musicians

  • Contractor: Joe Soldo
  • Piano: Barry Manilow, Randy Waldman
  • Guitar: Ken Berry, Mike Lent
  • Bass: Dave Carpenter
  • Drums: Russ McKinnon
  • Percussion: Dan Greco, Paulinho Da Costa
  • Background Vocals: Randy Crenshaw (Contractor), Ron Dante, Linda Harmon, Walt Harrah, Jon Joyce, Rick Logan, Connie Nassios, Susie Stevens, and Dick Wells
  • Violins: Assa Drori (Concert Master), Darius Campo, Daphne Chen, Lisa Dondlinger, Sam Fisher, Ron Folsom, Neel Hammond, Ray Kobler, Johanna Krejci, Liane Mautner, Cynthia Moussas, Jennifer Munday, David Stenske, Yan To, Miwako Watanabe, Dynell Weber
  • Violas: Ken Burward-Hoy, Sam Formicola, Carrie Holzman, Andrew Picken, Harry Shiranian, Ray Tischer
  • Cello: Larry Corbett, Armen Ksajikian, Dane Little, Timothy Loo, Tina Soule, John Walz
  • Harp: Gayle Levant, Marcia Dickstein
  • Saxophones: Gene Cipriano, Gary Foster, Dan Higgins, Greg Huckins, Joe Stone
  • Flute: Steve Kujala
  • Trumpets: Wayne Bergeron, Gary Grant, Chris Gray, Warren Leuning
  • Trombone: Steve Baxter, Craig Gosnell, Charles Loper, Chauncey Welsch
  • Tuba: Tommy Johnson
  • French Horn: Mark Adams, Steve Becknell, Paul Klintworth
  • Music Preparation: Terry Woodson Music, J. Barrick Griffiths, Danny Perito, Yeli Lim, Bill Baker, Curt Berg, Bill Edwards, Gisela Garcia Brugada, Jackie Johnson

Read more about this topic:  The Greatest Songs Of The Sixties

Famous quotes containing the word musicians:

    “How are we to know that a Dracula is a key-pounding pianist who lifts his hands up to his face, or that a bass fiddle is the doghouse, or that shmaltz musicians are four-button suit guys and long underwear boys?”
    —In New York City, U.S. public relief program (1935-1943)

    “Music is of two kinds: one petty, poor, second-rate, never varying, its base the hundred or so phrasings which all musicians understand, a babbling which is more or less pleasant, the life that most composers live.”
    —Honoré De Balzac (1799–1850)

    “As if the musicians did not so much play the little phrase as execute the rites required by it to appear, and they proceeded to the necessary incantations to obtain and prolong for a few instants the miracle of its evocation, Swann, who could no more see the phrase than if it belonged to an ultraviolet world ... Swann felt it as a presence, as a protective goddess and a confidante to his love, who to arrive to him ... had clothed the disguise of this sonorous appearance.”
    —Marcel Proust (1871–1922)