William Henry Faulker-Thompson A song came to me in a dream last night. It sounded like good, cheap whiskey and fever dreams; like Ritchie Valens, back from the dead and high as a kite, grabbing the American music scene by the collar and grinning furiously. It was only the next morning, when I found a copy of Dr. Martino’s Big Day EP taped to my monitor, that I realized the song was “Hollywood Coprophagia,” track one of a truly weird and brilliant creation. The EP plays out l