No matter how hard we might try, family gatherings and holiday season don’t always add up to joyous — or even peaceful — experiences. But when the Trucks clan joined forces for their Soul Stew Revival bash at Tampa Theatre on Monday, a near capacity crowd of around 1,400 witnessed domestic bliss at its finest. The jubilant vibe, marked by expert musicianship, permeated the ancient venue. If the rumors are true about the historic movie house being haunted, even the ghosts must have been grinning.
The gnat’s-ass-tight gang of musicians mesmerized with gorgeous executions of the timeworn tension-and-release dynamic. It’s a God-send rooted in the churches of the Deep South, one that was sold with aplomb to the secular world by the likes of Ray Charles, James Brown and Aretha Franklin. The Allman Brothers Band, Derek Trucks’ chief employer, then expanded the sonic presentation with Kind of Blue-indebted jazz elements in the late 1960s. Decades later, the holy tradition thrives, coming together wonderfully Monday night at Tampa Theatre.
Trucks, a 29-year-old slide guitar master, and his band, were joined by his soul singing (and pretty damn good ax player herself) wife Susan Tedeschi for an awesomely old-school R&B revue goosed with jam band touches. A three-man horn section, two drummers (one being Derek’s younger bro Duane), a percussionist, bassist and keyboardist who doubled as a flautist for one number (think Astral Weeks and save the Jethro Tull jokes) filled the stage. The formidable ensemble, which featured members of Tedeschi’s and Trucks’ individual bands, melded terrifically.
Photo of Tedeschi and Trucks, from a previous performance, courtesy of Flickr.
OK, here’s my list. Stay tuned for Top 10s by Snider and Leilani.
1. Lucinda Williams: Little Honey (Lost Highway)
On Little Honey, alt-country queen Lucinda Williams returns to the more focused, rock-oriented sonics of her breakthrough 1998 album Car Wheels on a Gravel Road. In doing so, she reveals a newfound sexual confidence (”Honey Bee”) and celebrates domestic bliss (”Tears of Joy”). The singer/songwriter also manages to mine pathos for humor on the superb Elvis Costello duet “Jailhouse Tears.” Williams can still break your heart, though. “Little Rock Star” plays like a much-needed note to Amy Winehouse, penned by a sympathetic female singer who has already survived the perilous, do “whatever it’ll take to get them to listen” phase. Williams closes Little Honey with a fun treat: A surprisingly awesome swamp-rock cover of the AC/DC road warrior anthem “It’s a Long Way to the Top (If You Wanna to Rock ‘n Roll).”
2. Lil Wayne: Tha Carter III (Cash Money)
Lil Wayne’s stoned, whisper-y flow and high-drama delivery is spellbinding. The dude opens his mouth, and you listen, hanging on each dazzlingly whack rhyme. On Tha Carter III, Weezy’s scattered-brain brilliance is in top form - as is the big budget production that dutifully follows Weezy’s serpentine flow like a hypnotized lover. The New Orleans native’s boasts, observations and musings are weirdly striking at nearly every turn (”I’m a young millionaire, tougher than Nigerian hair.”) Wayne still bulks at straight story telling, but to fault him for this would be like dissing Dali or Picasso for rebuking realism.
3. My Morning Jacket: Evil Urges (ATO)
Genre-hopping indeed rock outfit My Morning Jacket’s juiciest disc to date features a smattering of styles, all of which are rendered outstandingly natural by the Louisville band. There are moments of extreme sadness (”Librarian”) and utmost silliness (”Highly Suspicious.”) Leader Jim James’ versatile voice convincingly sells everything from guitar-blazing, kick drum-intensive arena rock (”Aluminum Park”) to somber country-pop (”Sec Walkin.) Unlike other ultra eclectic offerings, Evil Urges never comes across as show-y. You just get the sense that My Morning Jacket is doing what they love. And doing it damn well.
4. Robyn: Robyn (Konichiwa/Cherry Tree/Interscope)
This year former Swedish pop tart Robyn finally witnessed the U.S. release of her 2005 self-titled disc. Britney and the rest of our countrys’ brain-dead blowup dolls blew Robyn away in terms of sales, but the woman born Robin Miriam Carlsson in 1979 proved the most compelling of the bunch. By far. Over thick disco beats, jittery high hat, deep space bleeps and icy strings, Robyn subverts pop platitudes. She exudes sexiness, smarts, poise and vulnerability in a way rarely seen in a world where hottnes is defined by Paris Hilton.
5. Bob Dylan: Tell Tale Signs: The Bootleg Series Vol. 8 (Columbia)
The magnitude of Dylan’s late-career resurgence is brought into sharp focus here with a collection of “rare and unreleased” tracks recorded between 1989 and 2006. The two-disc set is a dud-free treasure chest featuring previously unreleased gems like the Time Out of My Mind outtake “Red River Shore” (an epic folk tale with spiritual overtones), the unreleased 2005 lament “Can’t Escape From You” and the superior Oh Mercy session version of “God Knows.” Another testament to Dylan’s genius is hearing drastically different “alternate takes” that are every bit as fascinating as the ones that made the final cut. Sequenced judicially, Tell Tale Signs plays like a stellar double-album by popular music’s most vital elder statesman.
What will acoustic funk favorite Christie Lenee perform from '68?
WMNF’s Flee is straying from his typical tribute show tradition. Instead of having a diverse lineup of local acts honor a single artist he has asked all the bands listed below to cover a tune from 1968 for the community radio station’s upcoming New Year’s Eve bash.
Songs I would like to hear from that year? How about killer renditions of The Rolling Stones’ “Factory Girl,” The Beatles’ “Happiness Is a Warm Gun,” Otis Redding’s “Hard to Handle,” Loretta Lynn’s “Fist City” and The Velvet Underground’s “White Light/White Heat.” Seriously, that would be a rad setlist!
Rewind: The WMNF Tribute to the Music and Songs of 1968 w/ Boon/Christie Lenee (pictured)/Crabgrass Cowboys/Ted Lukas/Johnny Zoom/Lush Progress/Midnight Bowler’s League/Rancid Polecats/Roppongi’s Ace/Talk to Mark, Wed., Dec. 31, Skipper’s Smokehouse, Tampa.
AC/DC, which plays the St. Pete Times Forum on Sun. Dec. 21, is one of the few classic rock acts that steadfastly refuses to peddle the obligatory “greatest hits” CD — or offer their music as digital downloads, for that matter. And I’m proud of my hard rock heroes for not selling out … Well, for not selling out to anybody except Walmart, with which the band did do a most dirty deed.
Anyway, if AC/DC ever OKs a best-of CD, I want to produce the compilation. Here’s how it would go: 18 tracks in chronological order spanning the years 1976 to 2008, with nine songs each for singers Bon Scott and Brian Johnson. The disc has been quite popular with my friends and coworkers — yes, I’ve made several. The Johnson tracks and greatest 1970s promo music video ever(!) after the jump.
AC/DC: Greatest Hits
1. “It’s a Long Way to the Top (If You Wanna Rock ‘N Roll)”
2. “T.N.T.”
3. “Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap”
4. “Big Balls”
5. “Let There Be Rock”
6. “Whole Lotta Rosie”
7. “Rock ‘N Roll Damnation”
8. “Highway to Hell”
9. “Girls Got Rhythm”
Jacksonville’s Derek Trucks, 29, has established himself as the greatest guitarist of his generation: He’s a genre-hopping band leader/solo artist, key Allman Brother and while on tour with Eric Clapton a couple years back the kid named after Derek and the Dominos helped Slow Hand wonderfully recreate classics from Layla and Other Assorted Love Songs. Yeah, Trucks is the shit.
And so is his wife, Susan Tedeschi. She’s a feisty blues guitarist, an accomplished songwriter and excellent soul singer. Her new album, Back to the River, features her crushing on emotive originals - several cowritten with Trucks, who also lends his slide guitar fineness to the disc - steeped in the sounds of the Deep South. Tedeschi’s also a master interpreter of classic rock gems. One of the many highlights of the New Orleans Jazz & Heritage Festival 2008 was during the final moments when Tedeschi joined Derek Truck’s group for a tent-raising rendition of The Band’s “The Weight.” I get chills and a smile comes to my face just thinking about that very special performance.
Here’s a continuation of my “Top 10: Depressing Christmas Songs.” Because, truth be told, I still ain’t feeling too damn cheery this time of year. But, y’know, happy holidays!
1. “Christmas Card From a Hooker in Minneapolis,” Tom Waits
Killer line: “I’ll be eligible for parole come Valentine’s Day.”
2. “Blue Christmas,” Elvis Presley
Killer line: “Youll be doin all right, with your Christmas of white, but I’ll have a blue, blue blue blue Christmas.”
3. “Christmas in Washington,” Steve Earle
Killer line: “If you run into Jesus, maybe he can help you out.”
4. “A Long December,” Counting Crows
Killer line: “I guess the winter makes you laugh a little slower.”
5. “Same Old Lang Syne,” Dan Fogelberg
Killer line: “She gave a kiss to me as I got out, and I watched her drive away.”
My favorite yearly music bash, the New Orleans Jazz & Heritage Fest, just announced its lineup for 2009 and I’m stoked about Aretha Franklin headlining the second weekend, April 30-May 3, which I annually attend. I’ve never seen the Queen of Soul and can’t imagine a better place than the Big Easy for it to finally happen.
Other acts on my must-see list for that weekend include Tony Bennett, The Neville Brothers, Bonnie Raitt, Common, Emmylou Harris (huge fan, never seen her before), Dr. John, Buddy Guy, Los Lobos, Toots & the Maytals, Allen Toussaint, John Mayall (he’s pretty cool live), Solomon Burke, Doc Watson, Jakob Dylan (more out of curiosity), Chuck Brown, Guy Clark, Cedric Burnside & Lightnin’ Malcolm.
Former Smith and indie boy icon Morrissey will bring his melodramatic croon and hopeless romanticism to Jannus Landing on March 4. Tickets go on sale Friday, Dec. 19 at 10am through Ticketmaster, or charge by phone at 800-745-3000. Moz will begin the U.S. leg of his world tour in support of his new album, Years of Refusal, this February. Morrissey will be backed by his longtime band including Boz Boorer, Jesse Tobias, Matt Walker and Solomon Walker. Video clip after the jump.
Why do the same flannel-era rock acts play the ’Burg every six months? Because they draw. Much more than I ever expected. A few weeks ago, I dropped into the State Theatre to meet some friends who were seeing the Toadies (the band had that ’90s hit about some shit that went down “behind the boathouse”).
I anticipated a couple hundred in attendance — but the place was packed. And there were even young hipsters there. Guess they enjoy it under the cover of irony. Anyway, fellow post-grungers Seven Mary Three, of Orlando, had even more Clinton-era hits — “Cumbersome,” “Water’s Edge,” “Over Your Shoulder” — than the Toadies so expect a huge turnout at everyone’s favorite downtown courtyard on Thursday when Seven Mary Three plays Jannus Landing — just don’t expect to see me there.
Our very own heroes of death metal, Deicide, our back in the news thanks to their song “Fuck Your God” topping the list of torture songs being used at Gitmo. How does the veteran Tampa band feel about their music being used as torture? From the Atlanta Journal-Constitution:
“If I was a prisoner at Guantanamo Bay and they blasted a load of music at me, I’d be like, ‘Is this all you got? Come on.’ I certainly don’t believe in torturing people, but I don’t believe that playing loud music is torture either.”
– Deicide drummer Steve Asheim, whose band’s song “[Obscenity] Your God” is said to be interrogators’ No. 1 hit.
I’m no big fan of death metal, especially the cracked-out Cookie Monster vocals favored by acts like Deicide. They make me nervous and irritable. Place me in a cold, dark room with “Fuck Your God” playing nonstop and I’d be telling interrogators my mother is a terrorist within the hour. “Fuck Your God” sound/video clip after the jump.
The Boss is back with the title-track to the highly anticipated new film The Wrestler, starring Mickey Rourke in what’s being touted as an Oscar-worthy, comeback performance.
The song doesn’t have much of a hook, and the lyrics are riddled with cliches, but the lived-in passion of the vocal makes the song a mandatory listen for all Sprinsteen fans. Listen to complete song, watch trailerafter the jump.
Editor’s note: This post originally ran here at CL’s Daily Loaf blog. Lorna Bracewell wrote it. The post is wonderfully moving and she is one of our prized Music Contributors so I’m bringing it back to Tampa Calling. After all, this is her home. And to quote fellow Tampa Bay singer/songwriter Ronny Elliott: “I love Lorna and I’m proud to know her. She’s a citizen, alright. A model citizen.”
Yesterday ranks amongst the more surreal days of my life. It lacked most of the mundane features of a typical day like eating, having a moment of privacy or understanding what the hell is going on around you. Now that the news cameras are gone, the radio interviews are done and the documentary film maker is no longer following me around, I’m going to take a few moments to reflect back on this Dali painting of a day and what I think it means.
Impact Florida, an organization of which I became the director barely two weeks ago and which itself became an organization just a week or two prior to that, staged a demonstration for marriage equality outside of Governor Charlie Crist’s wedding and reception last night. We wore bright pink shirts, we passed out big stickers that said “Congratulations, Governor! When can I get married?” and we held signs that said things like, “Fairness for all families!” and “Can I vote on your marriage now?”
I don’t think any of us anticipated the level of interest our little get together would generate. You see, we all seem to perceive ourselves as pretty run-of-the-mill folks. Sure, a lot of us are gay, but that’s about as exotic as we get. Many of us have been in committed realtionships (what would be known as “marriages” if the laws of our state and our country weren’t so incomprehensibly stupid) for years. We work ordinary jobs and lead ordinary lives. One of our members told me last night as we shivered under an oak tree in Williams Park that he was so excited to be what he called “out on the town.” “My partner and I hardly ever leave the house!” he said.
Overcast. Sunday. Long week ahead of me, you, probably most of the people reading this post. The stress is already settling in my gut like battery acid. Afternoons like these lead me in search of pretty, sad, comforting songs. Delightful ditties like Belle & Sebastian’s dreamy “Another Sunny Day.” Matching this song’s diary-entry poignancy is an awesomely animated, homemade video clip that offers a literal interpretation of the detailed lyrics. Enjoy.
In an era when suburban teen prodigies and middle-aged white dudes with greasy ponytails dominate the blues scene, we are extremely giddy to welcome Delta blues bad-ass T-Model Ford to the juke-joint-sized Dave’s Aqua Lounge for what is - to the best of our knowledge - the awesomely grizzled singer, songwriter and electric guitarist’s Tampa Bay debut.
Ford, age 84 if you believe Wikipedia, plays triumphantly nasty boogie music à la his late Fat Possum labelmate R.L Burnside and fellow Mississippian John Lee Hooker. It’s raw shit delivered with appropriate ‘tude by a man who has truly lived the gangsta lifestyle (albeit a rural one). “I’ve been shot and I’ve been cut,” Ford growls on the song “Nobody Gets Me Down.” That’s from Ford’s wonderfully unpolished and riveting 1997 Fat Possum debut, Pee Wee Get My Gun, which has recently been reissued.
T-Model Ford w/Nervous Turkey, 9:30 p.m. Fri., Dec. 12, Dave’s Aqua Lounge, St. Petersburg, $10.
OK, here’s my list. Look for the CL music team’s Top 10 album lists to be posted Dec. 22-24, to coincide with our Top 10 issue that streets Christmas Eve.
Also, I’ve been seeing M.I.A.’s “Paper Planes” popping up on other best-of lists. The song topped my 2007 tally, so I decided to leave her off this year’s - or else the Sri Lankan sensation would have definitely given Weezy a run for his cash money.
1. “Mr. Carter,” Lil’ Wayne (pictured) w/Jay-Z
Lil’ Wayne, the self-proclaimed greatest rapper on earth, lives up to the claim on this amazing free-word association with a world-class hook. Weezy’s distinctive Nawlins locution is wonderfully raspy as he bounces from brilliantly wacky pop-culture references (”Hector Camacho Man Randy Savage”) to outstanding boasts like: “Two words you never hear, ‘Wayne Quit?’/ ‘Cause Wayne win, and they lose/ I call them April babies, ’cause they fools.” Jay-Z’s guest verse is boss, but it’s Weezy’s dramatic delivery and mad genius lyrics that make this song my top pick for ‘08.
2. “Highly Suspicious,” My Morning Jacket
Genre-hopping rockers My Morning Jacket’s foray into funk is a stone-cold winner. Frontman Jim James pulls a Prince, singing falsetto about sexy mysteries like “peanut butter pudding surprise” - without a discernible hint of irony. Oh, yeah, and the thumping, make-you-wanna-hump backbeat is irrepressible.
3. “Slapped Actress,” The Hold Steady
This isn’t the first song in which the indie rank’s fiercest bar band name-checks Ybor City, but it is The Hold Steady’s finest. And that’s saying something considering the gutter glory of “Killer Parties.” On “Slapped Actress,” the band has concocted a guitar-centric, articulate rush of adrenaline that rises and falls like a first-rate arena-rock offering - minus the gloss and lyrical goofiness.
One of my favorite folkies, Dar Williams, will perform at The Palladium Theatre on Feb. 4. Joshua Radin opens. Tickets are $27.50, go on sale Dec. 19, and are only available through the Palladium box office, which means no Ticketmaster bullshit.
I had a great phoner with Williams back in 2002. Here’s the opening couple paragraphs from the profile that ran in Creative Loafing back in the Weekly Planet days:
Dar Williams isn’t just another chick with a guitar, a troubled past and an ax to grind. She is a smart songwriter with an emotive soprano, a luminary among artists being filed under the “contemporary folk” tag. Although her music is often fleshed out with enough muscle to easily be called rock, she is a folk artist by virtue of the fact that in addition to penning relationship-probing narratives, she is not afraid to occasionally allow her political views, especially on topics such as environmentalism, surface in her work.
“I’m really interested in the health of the planet and I’m less interested in my personal health,” cracks Williams. “I eat a lot of crap. I drink coffee. I eat meat. But, I’m really concerned about the planet.” The self-effacing singer/songwriter refers to herself as a “social liberal.”
But, unlike others populating the neo-folk genre, Williams does not berate listeners with snobbish left-field musings.
Last night I was ready to announce “last call” when I put on Letterman to check out the music guest. There loomed Jamey Johnson, this truck-driving fella with a rich, burly voice. He recounted a conversation with his WWII-vet granddaddy … and I nearly had to wipe a manly tear from my eye. Titled “In Color,” the song is moving without being maudlin, and Johnson, who co-wrote the number, delivers the touching lyric with old-school, outlaw authority — and charm. Fatherly charm. Big brother charm. Two old pals with lots of battle scars sharing a bear-hug charm.
But “In Color” is not the most gripping song on Johnson’s breakthrough disc That Lonesome Song. That honor goes to the nearly six-minute long “High Cost of Living (Ain’t Nothing Like the Cost of Living High),” another original. Here’s this mainstream country singer — Johnson’s on Mercury — candidly singing about his past struggles with cocaine. The lived-in lyrics and the shackled-but-ever-present demons in his voice place the song on par with the best by fellow and former Nashville rebels Waylon, Willie, Hag and Cash.
Perhaps you’ve heard about Gov. Rod Blagojevich getting busted for trying to auction off a senate seat.
Poor guy.
Now Obama is urging him to resign. I say, throw Blagojevich’s corrupt ass in jail. Or better yet, prison. With a big dude named Bubba.
Top 10 Songs for Blagojevich
1. “Christmas in Prison,” John Prine
2. “Xmas in Jail,” Asleep at the Wheel
3. “The Governor,” James McMurty
4. “Jailhouse Tears,” Lucinda Williams w/Elvis Costello
5. “Jail,” Dan Bern
“Lots to report from the world according to RZA,” the rapper/actor’s publicist notes. “New album, Wu-Tang tour, and a role in the new Judd Apatow film [Funny People]. Caught some of the filming and it was hilarious! [RZA] appears alongside Seth Rogen and Adam Sandler in one of the scenes - great look!”
Here’s the press release:
WU MUSIC GROUP ISSUES SECOND RELEASE / FOLLOW UP TO WU-TANG CLAN’S “8 DIAGRAMS”:
THE RZA TO PRESENT “AFRO SAMURAI: RESURRECTION” OUT JANUARY 27, 2009, APPEAR IN NEW JUDD APATOW FILM
Editor’s note: Contributor Autopsy IV, of ninebullets.net fame, and I are totally in agreement about blues bad ass T-Model Ford, who performs Dec. 12, Dave’s Aqua Lounge, St. Petersburg. Here’s Autopsy’s write-up; check out his kick-ass site for free MP3s. My Ford preview will be in the Creative Loafing that streets today — and will appear here day of show.
It’s not often that you get a chance to see a real deal bluesman, you know, like the ones romanticized in countless books, tv shows and movies. Well, Friday night we get one of those chances when T-Model Ford brings his version of the Mississippi hill-country blues sound to Dave’s Aqua Lounge. Backing T-Model on this tour is a pretty god damned talented blues ensemble in their own right, Gravelroad. I venture to say we could see Dave’s turned into the St. Pete equivalent of a deep South juke-joint until the local authorities tell T-Model and Co. it’s time to pack it up. So come out, get drunk, get high…hell, smoke a cigarette, get in a fight and go to jail. That’s what this night is all about. You could say it’s gonna be good times, but I’ll just quote T-Model and say “it’s Jack Daniel time”.
This just arrived in my inbox about two minutes ago. Rather than ramble on about how cool Langerado is (and it is by far the coolest fest in Florida), or analyze the roster (truth be told, I’ve barely looked at it), I’ll simply pass on the info:
7TH ANNUAL LANGERADO MUSIC FESTIVAL ANNOUNCES INITIAL ARTIST LINEUP:
DEATH CAB FOR CUTIE, SNOOP DOGG, RYAN ADAMS AND THE CARDINALS,
THIEVERY CORPORATION, SLIGHTLY STOOPID, FLOGGING MOLLY,
DASHBOARD CONFESSIONAL, BROKEN SOCIAL SCENE, COLD WAR KIDS,
GIRL TALK, CHROMEO, MUTE MATH, AND BLACK KIDS
ARE JOINED BY GYM CLASS HEROES, THE FAINT,
THE POGUES, ZAC BROWN BAND, MATISYAHU, THE DISCO BISCUITS,
UMPHREY’S MCGEE, ROBERT RANDOLPH AND THE FAMILY BAND,
MICHAEL FRANTI AND SPEARHEAD, THE VIRGINS, AND MANY MORE
TICKETS ON SALE FRIDAY DECEMBER 12TH NOON EST AT WWW.LANGERADO.COM
MARCH 6-7-8, 2009 AT BICENTENNIAL PARK IN MIAMI, FL
For years, rock and rap had largely forged an unholy alliance thanks to such clown acts as Limp Bizkit. But that’s changed (thanks God!) with forward-thinking young groups like Gym Class Heroes and the most brilliant new hip-hop act of 2008, The Knux. Comprised of brothers Krispy Kream and Rah Al Millio, the sibling duo was born and raised in New Orleans but their sound, style and ethos has more in common with Atlanta stalwarts Outkast than anything to emerge from under the Cash Money umbrella.
On their debut disc Remind Me in 3 Days…, The Knux alternate between odes to everyday pleasures (”Cappuccino”) and the reality of living in a city as famous for its murder rate as it is for good times (”Bang! Bang!”). Those two songs are blowing up on MySpace thanks to their use of big beats, awesomely wacky synths and glossy guitars, the latter of which figure even more prominently on other numbers like “Roxanne” (no, it’s not a Police cover) and reportedly in the duo’s live shows, which featured a band when The Knux first created a buzz opening for Common in late 2007. When The Knux came through Florida recently and played Orlando, they supported Q-Tip. Yeah, Krispy Kream and Rah Al Millio are two extremely talented MCs/musicians who are smartly associating themselves with the upper crust of the old guard. 3.5 stars.
It’s that time of year again. Time for holiday hoopla. Time for yuletide cheer. Time for year-end best-of lists, especially if you’re that endangered species known as a “working music critic.” This occupation makes me nervous these days. But I love making lists. And mix CDs. Especially for my siblings.
My younger sister Beth is graduating from college in a few days. I can’t make the flight to Colorado. But I’m sending some custom-made CDs with my mom and my other sister Alli to give her. I burned Beth new albums she would like. I then decided to go ahead and tally my favorite songs of 2008, which took about 2.5 hours and several more glasses of wine. I have a print piece on the topic due at 2 p.m. Thursday.
I came up with a working list of 43 tunes tonight that will be whittled down to a nice round number for my music feature that streets Dec. 17. It will be online earlier than that. I stole the word “streets.” And use it whenever I can.
Here are the songs I put on a CD for my lil’ sister. She’s a nurse now. I’m very proud of her. Beth’s chosen profession will come in quite handy for me. My lifestyle is, well, reckless. It worries her. That’s the flip side to having a blood relative in the medical field. I must sound awful. But she understands.
Beth and I dig many of the same artists. That’s one of the numerous advantages of being the eldest child: You play a significant role in the music tastes of your younger siblings. At least I did. That makes me happy. My siblings and parents make me happy. Good music makes me happy. And several other people and things. But enough of that. Here are the tunes.
Wayne Coyne’s film Christmas on Mars is an abysmal clunker, even by vanity-project standards. It’s a mostly black-and-white, sci-fi, faux philosophical adventure strongly indebted to Stanley Kubrick’s infinitely superior 2001:A Space Odyssey and David Lynch’s pioneering, if equally obnoxious, Eraserhead. Whereas Flaming Lips live shows are charmingly weird and fun, the band’s silver screen debut reeks of film-school pretentiousness and art-house arrogance.
Lips frontman Coyne wrote, co-directed and appears in the flick, as do his fellow band members, but there are no musical performances - which makes Christmas on Mars less appealing than The Song Remains the Same sans the concert footage. Even with a head full of high-grade acid I can’t imagine finding this film more entertaining to view than, say, the popcorn ceiling of your average shitty apartment. As for the CD part of this twofer package, it’s the instrumental soundtrack to the film: 32 meandering minutes of trite, trippy washes that ebb, flow and then dissipate before leaving any real mark on the listener - just like the movie itself. 1 star
I’m totally digging Lily Allen’s brilliant, highly hypnotic new single “The Fear” (see clip below). It’s a disco-beat dagger in the plastic heart of celebrity culture and the first single/video from her wonderfully titled new album It’s Not Me, It’s You, which drops Tuesday. Here’s the skinny:
It’s Not Me, It’s You is both a continuation of the preoccupations of Alright, Still, Lily’s critically acclaimed debut, and a stiletto-heeled leap forward. The forensic, affecting, often humorous examinations of relationships and sexual politics are still there, but bigger themes are also tackled. BLENDER aptly summed it up as “part God, part country and all middle finger.” Working in a tiny rented house in England’s Cotswolds and at Eagle Rock Studios in Los Angeles, Allen wrote and recorded the album’s 12 songs with producer Greg Kurstin (the bird and the bee), who collaborated with her on three tracks for Alright, Still - “Everything’s Just Wonderful,” “Alfie” and “Not Big.”
Boss local punk-blues power trio Roppongi’s Ace have posted new tracks on their MySpace page. Here’s what the band wrote in a recent blog post:
Record in 1/09! Demos up now
Hope y’all get a chance to listen to the new tracks. They’re still in demo form and are a little rough around the edges–the masters are done and should be up soon. Look for the new record in early January and a whole bunch of new dates to be posted soon! - RA
Singer/guitarist/fiddler Alex Spoto has been away at college (Brown, last we spoke; yep, he’s a thinker), causing the recent band hiatus. But you can witness Roppongi’s Ace rip it up Dec. 28 at Crowbar and Dec. 31 at Skipper’s Smokehouse. Here’s what I wrote about Roppongi’s spectacular summer of 2007 farewell gig at the Skipperdome:
This list of sad Christmas songs first ran as a feature in Creative Loafing, back when it was the Weekly Planet, in 2002. I then re-posted it here at TampaCalling last December.
Unfortunately, the list is again proving appropriate, even more this year than during any holiday season in my lifetime. So, I decided to revive the entire article that ran in the old Weekly Planet under the title “Blue Christmas: Songs to avoid (or wallow in) for the season.” Cheers.
Originally published 12.18.02:
As anybody living on this side of a Rockwell canvas already knows, the holidays aren’t always the happiest time of the year. If you’re strapped for cash, feeling lonely or disenfranchised, Christmas usually ushers in as much grief as joy. So, to help deal with the potential doldrums of this week of all Madison Avenue weeks, here’s a list of 12/25 songs from the past three decades that wittily reflect — in no uncertain terms — the occasionally grim realities of the season. (Such pre-rock classics as “White Christmas” harbor nearly as much melancholy as merriment, as well, but Jewish composers like Irving Berlin buried the sentiment a bit deeper in the subtext than today’s songwriters.)
The alphabetically listed tunes posted below range from poignant (”Pretty Paper”) and irreverent (”Fairy Tale of New York”) to humorous (”The Christians and the Pagans”) and morbid (”Brick”) — the overriding criteria for the selections being reality-based storytelling traditionally missing from the standard holiday fare. And although John Lennon’s “Happy Xmas (War is Over)” made the cut, political songs with less universal emotional gravity — Steve Earle’s “Christmas in Washington,” Randy Newman’s “Christmas in Capetown” — were deemed unworthy. As was Elvis’ generic “Blue Christmas” and the well-intentioned but nauseating 1980s sap-fest “Do they Know It’s Christmas.”
Included after the artists’ name is the best budget album on which to find each title. This little perk is just in case you’re looking for that special depressing something to send your ex. You know, just to remind him or her of just how much misery they’ve caused you during this season of supposed Yuletide spirit.
“Brick” Ben Folds Five, Whatever and Ever Amen The economically challenged protagonist rises at “6 a.m. the day after Christmas” to drive his young girlfriend to the abortion clinic. Now how’s that for holiday cheer? Killer Line: “They call her name at 7:30/ I pace around the parking lot/ Then I walk down to buy her flowers/ And sell some gifts that I got.”
“The Christians and the Pagans,” Dar Williams, Mortal City How about a little humor before blowing our brains out? In this astute comedic sketch from Williams, two related families polarized by religious differences come together for a holiday meal and try to agree that “Christmas is like solstice.” Killer Line: “The food was great, the tree plugged in, the meal had gone without a hitch/ Till Timmy turned to Amber and said, “Is it true that you’re a witch?”
“Christmas in Prison,” John Prine, Sweet Revenge John Prine is one of few songwriters who could take such clichéd country-music terrain as prison, heartache and Christmas, and come up with something that smacked of true sincerity — no big surprises, but genuinely moving. Killer Line: “It’s Christmas in prison/ There’ll be music tonight/ I’ll probably get homesick/ I love you/ Goodnight.”
“Fairytale of New York,” The Pogues, If I Should Fall From Grace With God A homeless couple’s dialogue begins cheerily but by the end of this four-minute exchange, vile nastiness prevails. Killer Line: “You’re a punk/ You’re an old slut on junk … You scum bag/ You maggot/ You cheap lousy faggot/ Happy Christmas your arse/ I pray God/ It’s our last.”
Editor’s note: This just in from our man Autopsy IV via ninebullets.net.
Sure, plenty of shows come to town and there are plenty of reasons to be excited about each and every one of them. But, unlike people, all shows are not created equal. Some, such as the Black Diamond Heavies show last month, are just more worthy of your unbridled enthusiasm. Scott H. Biram falls into that category. When Scott comes to your town you need to lock up the womenfolk, drink a few whiskey shots and get your ass to the show. I think my card carrying status in Scott’s Church of the Ultimate Fanaticism Fan Club is well documented here on ninebullets, so I am gonna quote a Biram show review a friend of mine wrote after hearing/seeing Scott for the first time ever a few years ago:
“Finally it was time for Scott Biram. I had heard him earlier when he was doing his sound check and the amount of music he can generate all by himself is really staggering. He was really a great performer and musician. He was able to banter with the audience, tune his guitar, work a bass pedal to keep the beat, blow on the harmonica, and growl into his mic/bullhorn. You don’t really know what to expect when the little guy in the green trucker cap sits down on the stage. Biram looks like a guy you’d pass coming out of the bathroom at a Flying J truck stop on I-10. However he attacks honky tonk and blues with a vicious growl and doesn’t let you go until you are stomping your feet and screaming “Whiskey!”
I know the last show Scott played here in town was a drunken mess, but the good news is that Scott has stopped drinking whiskey so the show will be up to the standards he had set the first couple of times he came through town, and we’re all gonna be better for it.
I usually don’t give a shit about the Grammys but must admit I was thrilled to find this email in my inbox this morning. I have been gushing about M.I.A. for some time and it seems mainstream audiences didn’t get around to her killer, genre-hopping, world-flavored, lady gangsta single “Paper Planes,” and the equally awesome album Kala, until the song was used recently in the Pineapple Express trailer. Perhaps exposure on the Grammys broadcast — somebody still watches, right? — will increase her profile. M.I.A. is one of the most exciting and brilliant young artists on the global stage. She should be playing arenas not tiny little sold-out clubs on Frenchmen Street, which was the case this year at New Orleans Jazz & Heritage Festival.
In my latest Bar Tab column I admit to being seduced by the mighty Wii for the first time. In fact, it was the first time I had played a video game since my crazy (lazy) college days. I enjoyed myself. But I still think the idea of wasting time on manipulating a fake, plastic instrument when you could be making actual music on a real guitar, is ridiculous. Yeah, I’m talking to you, Guitar Hero geeks. Anyway, here’s a bit from my column:
But my favorite part of the weekend — well, except for, y’know, giving thanks and spending quality time with the fam — was discovering the awesomeness of the Wii. Which is odd, because I have major issues with video games. In fact, a large part of me believes they are the reason this country no longer dominates the world the way we did in, say, 1956.
(TAMPA, FL) – Britney Spears will bring her highly anticipated The Circus Starring Britney Spears 2009 Tour to the St. Pete Times Forum in Tampa, FL on Sunday, March 8. The 27-city North American trek, her first arena tour in five years, follows hot on the heels of Spears’ long-awaited sixth studio album, Circus. Emmy Award-winning choreographer and director, Wade Robson, is helming the incredible tour production, which also features special guests The Pussycat Dolls.
Tickets will go on sale Monday, December 8th at 10:00amandcan be purchased at the McDonald’s Box Office at the St. Pete Times Forum box office and all Ticketmaster locations, via Ticketmaster charge-by-phone at 1-800-745-3000, Ticketmaster Express at 866-448-7849(automated only self service line)or online at Ticketmaster.com. Tickets are subject to applicable service charges and event time and date are subject to change.
Thanksgiving Weekend just didn’t provide enough do-nothing time for me so I decided to take this entire week off and have me a stay-cation. I’m going to re-alphabetize my CD collection, dust my apartment, finish a couple books, write haikus and whatever else I feel like doing. Which will surely include some light blogging. Here are the tunes going through my head:
Top 10: Vacation songs
1. Vacation, The Go-Go’s
2. Holiday Road, Lindsey Buckingham
3. Fish and Whistle, John Prine
4. Too Much of Nothing, Bob Dylan and the Band
5. It’s My Lazy Day, Willie Nelson and Merle Haggard
6. Situation Vacant, The Kinks
7. Lazy Days, The Byrds
8. One Big Holiday, My Morning Jacket
9. Home Sweet Home, Breaux Freres
10. Another Sunny Day, Belle & Sebastian
James McMurtry might not be a name on par with, say, fellow Texans Lyle Lovett or Steve Earle, but the singer/songwriter and bad-ass guitarist is still a revered act in the Americana world. McCurtry‘ McMurty’s latest album, the outstandingly incendiary, darkly humorous, wonderfully emotive and rustically rocking Just Us Kids, has garnered glowing write-ups in glossies such as Blender,Mojo and Entertainment Weekly, the latter of which showered the disc with superlatives like “brilliant,” “hilarious” and “poignant” in giving it an A- grade. Just Us Kids is selling, too. It has reached a very respectable No. 18 on Billboard’s Top Independent Albums chart.
So it’s surprising when I’m given McMurtry’s mobile phone number and instructed to ring him in the afternoon. Any afternoon. Easy as that, the PR person says. But I’m skeptical. Usually when dealing with an artist of McMurtry’s status there’s a set time, date and minute count to which, you, the interviewer, are supposed to stick. Twenty minutes is the norm.
I dial the digits and hear a gruff “hello” that could only be James McMurtry’s. “Give me a moment to pull over,” he says. “I’ve got a manual transmission.” He steers his automobile into a nearby parking lot to grant an interview on a recent Tuesday afternoon. McMurtry has been driving around his hometown of Austin, running the same mundane errands you or I might conduct on an off day. He good-naturedly refers to the interview as just another duty after I apologize for interrupting his daily routine.
The Americana music icon speaks slowly. His voice is deep. His answers are straightforward and marked by an economy of words - and a drawl that reflects both his native Virginia and decades spent in the Lone Star State. You get the sense he’s incapable of feeding you bullshit, and it’s the same way with his music. Whether recounting the machinations of a crystal meth cooker in the fan favorite “Choctaw Bingo,” or telling me how his world-famous father Larry McMurtry’s one shortcoming as a novelist/screenwriter is that “he always gets firearms wrong,” the younger McMurtry’s words smack of integrity.
Editor’s note: This excellent, lengthy, informative, investigative, and, yes, controversial post arrives via our man Autopys IV (pictured) over at ninebullets.net.
Like many other blogs and web sites on the internet, I wrote about the sudden closing of Miles of Music with a tone of sadness. As I said at the time, I always felt better about myself after buying cds from M.O.M. and had even grown to view their notoriously slow shipping as an endearing trait. As many posts on ninebullets tend to do, my eulogy to M.O.M. slid off the front page with little more than a few other people chiming in to express their sadness about the closing.
Then a week or so after the initial posting a funny thing started to happen. Bands started commenting on the post and, like me, they weren’t too happy about M.O.M.’s closing but, unlike me, they weren’t exactly mourning it. Then as a week turned into a couple of weeks, and then into a month, the comments and emails went from a slight trickle to an unignorable stream. It finally became apparent to me that M.O.M.’s business practices as of late may not have all been above board and that there was definitely an underside to this story that nobody was telling. With that in mind I took it upon myself to start talking to these artists with the intent of telling their story.
As the stories started to file in I started feeling worse and worse about having ever spent any money at Miles of Music and started to feel as angry as these bands I was talking to. Wanting answers, I did some basic internet sleuthing to uncover Jeff’s (Mile of Music’s founder) email address and reached out to him. To Jeff’s defense, he was quick to respond and very up front about what happened with Miles of Music from its inception all the way up to its sudden closing. As we continued to exchange emails my anger gave way to understanding.
Did Jeff make some mistakes? Yes. Are the bands catching it in the ass? Yes. Was this Jeff’s intent? No. Is he laughing all the way to the bank? Pretty much the exact opposite.
I expanded and altered this post for my latest Bar Tab, titled “Wild Turkey” in the print edition. Here’s the opening:
Holy shit. It’s the holidays already. Which means most of us will be drinking even more than normal. Most likely in a fortified, well-stocked bedroom where those obnoxious relatives can’t find us — or a dingy neighborhood bar. Here are some tunes to help with the process. Cheers.
The Encyclopedia of Punk ($19. 56 at Amazon) lives up to its name with A-Z coverage of approximately 500 bands, zines, clubs, labels, subgenres and scenesters.
The text is peppered with hundreds of pages that capture the movement in all its sweaty, ripped denim and tattooed glory.
With a cover the size of a vinyl jacket and 400 glossy pages that make the tome thicker and heavier than your first laptop, it should make for an impressive presence on any self-respecting punk enthusiasts’ coffee table — or that old speaker box doubling as one.
Check out my cover story. Yeah, we’re milking Chinese Democracy — big time with the art — but, I promise, the actual article barely mentions the (over?) hyped Axl offering. Here’s my lede:
The economy is a rollercoaster of woe leaving many of us worrying about unemployment and the growing possibility of a crippling substance abuse problem or mental breakdown. But it’s Thanksgiving, the day of gratitude. Rather than drown in self-pity, I’ve decided to focus on the positive. Because for all the shitty news this year has offered — and, yes, it’s been a formidable shit-storm — 2008 has provided its fair share of rewards, especially for music fans.
Tampa singer/songwriter and CL Best of the Bay winner Will Quinlan’s album Navasota is at No. 2 on The Americana Music Associations‘ Most Added chart. Here’s the profile piece I did on Quinlan back in June, a week before the CD dropped. We are very proud of him! And so is WMNF:
The most striking part of Chuck Klosterman’s Chinese Democracy review — he gave it an A- in The Onion, about the same as my 3.5, reduced to 3 star, review — is his argument that the disc will be remembered as the last physical record that anyone gave a shit about.
For one thing, Chinese Democracy is (pretty much) the last Old Media album we’ll ever contemplate in this context—it’s the last album that will be marketed as a collection of autonomous-but-connected songs, the last album that will be absorbed as a static manifestation of who the band supposedly is, and the last album that will matter more as a physical object than as an Internet sound file. This is the end of that.
It’s a smart statement. But I’m not sure I’m buying it. The new Eminem album, for instance, will likely move a million units and so should Dre’s. I’m betting the next Jonas Brothers and Miley Cyrus discs will as well. Acts that truly grab people — yes tweens count as people — have fans still interested in owning a physical copy. Look at Radiohead, the British alternarockers gave away In Rainbows sound files and still topped the pop charts when they released the actual CD. The disc isn’t dead yet. Or is it????
The most hyped record in rock history begins with a big noise — but it’s ultimately more of a whimper than a bang. The opening title-track amounting to a Pro Tools mess of guitar processing that pours out of the speakers loud and hard but never rocks, never swings, never grabs you the way, say, the entire first side of Appetite for Destruction did. Axl Rose’s voice, though, remains an awesomely sadistic growl, a reminder that, yes, it has truly been missed during the past 15 years.
Chinese Democracy improves with the industrial-informed freak out “Shackler’s Revenge” and again with the muscular guitar kiss-off “Better” - because no one delivers bitter quite like Axl. The same theme is explored on the power ballad “Street of Dreams” (previously leaked as “The Blues”). Keyboards, strings, face-melting guitar solos (courtesy of both Buckethead and Robin Finkck), it’s Axl, the music mad man genius at his post-modern Wall of Sound best. The only bummer is when the singer dips into his lower register. I can’t help but hear Forgetting Sarah Marshall’s “Dracula’s Lament.”
I told Joel that’s crazy, the Crescent City big man with the angelic voice had to have made the cut.
And then I took a look for myself this morning. Goddamn, no Neville! I’m outraged.
Few singers have made me dry my eyes. Neville is one of them. I’ve heard him to do Sam Cooke’s “A Change is Gonna Come” twice in concert. Manly tears both times.
Editor’s note: Among Autopsy IV’s many talents is opining on the awesomely crappy reality TV show “Rock of Love.” Here’s his latest slice of sidesplitting commentary. To catch up on his marvelous skewering, go to ninebullets.net.
Okay. I asked if people were interested in me doing these and then never actually started. I have a decent excuse…I promise. See, my in-laws came in from Honduras and we weren’t watching the show…but! we were recording them and over the weekend I got caught up and I’m ready to start writing about this collection of skanks in earnest now.
When I woke up this morning I knew someone had mentioned the Brandi twins and their porn careers on the latest “Charm School” edition. You depraved fuckers had quadrupled the amount of traffic I would normally have by 7:30 in the morning….all Googling for their pron tapes. To that I gotta ask; Are you fucking serious? Do you really wanna see some dude’s spooge running down Brandi M.’s face before you’ve had your morning coffee? Do you really wanna see Brandi C.’s cobbled up axe wound before breakfast?
No, you don’t…I’ve seen ‘em both…it was horrible. Now, if Jessica wants to pose topless..then we’re onto something.
The commandment on this week’s episode was “Thou Shalt Rock Thy Body”. You can imagine the disappointment when a house full of whores, strippers and porn queens learned that “rocking thy body” had nothing to do with bodily fluids.
The girls go out to the courtyard to see a collection of booths featuring top shelf whiskey, tequila, cigars, cheese and wine. The girls get to cycle around to each booth trying the wares while the attendants try desperately to explain how to enjoy the items. This really reminded me of my dog. See, I can be eating something so delicious, so decadent and I’ll (as I’m often wont to do) give some to the dog…only, she doesn’t even chew it. One swallow, it’s gone. That’s the way these girls are with the booze. Top shelf whiskey slammed like it’s Old Crow or something. I’d venture that some of the bottles of wine cost more than these hags’ rent, while their only basis for comparison is Boones Farm Strawberry wine. Dallas eventually bores with the wine and cheese offerings and starts to make a run at the local sausage selection (sorry babe, The Pick-Up Artist comes on in the next hour).
Last night I picked up a Griot Drum Award — 1st Place, Print, Features (circ. below 100,000) — for my United Front story.
I then proceeded to get thoroughly wasted at Tamiami Bar, where I watched blues badass Papa Mali, and then continued my imbibing over at State Theatre, where The Toadies were playing.
And then, and this was the killer, we guzzled whiskey at The Emerald until last call. Yes, sir, I’m hurting in that old familiar way.
This just in from our brilliant music/booze hound, Autopsy IV, who helms the ass-kicking blog ninebullets.net.
The folks who run the new Creative Loafing music site want me to get these out pretty quickly after the show and the truth is, I wanted to do a show recap yesterday but I couldn’t formulate coherent thoughts or actions.
When I slithered out of bed Wednesday morning I wasn’t sure if I was still drunk or still enjoying a post-show high from The Black Diamond Heavies gig at Dave’s Aqua Lounge. Either one was entirely possible and the truth is I was probably suffering a little from both. Not to mention, my ears were still fuxxored from the nights abuse. The Black diamond Heavies rolled into St. Petersburg on Tuesday night and delivered a full-scale sonic ass whupping on everyone present.
Pounding their way through almost an hour of material from their two albums, Every Damn Time and A Touch Of Someone Else’s Class the band delivered in every way I had hoped, nay…expected. I was giddy like a school girl for 2 days before this show and it lived up to every expectation I had for it. There really is no reason for you to miss these guys when they come to your neck of the woods. Go see them now and in a few years you’ll be able to say you saw them “back when”.
My first Guns N’ Roses experience came via a cassette tape of the band’s irresistibly decadent 1987 major label debut album Appetite for Destruction. I had just entered the third grade. I hid the tape from my parents. It was a prized possession of mine. The CD on my shelf still gets dusted off and played on a semi-regular basis.
Fast forward to 1991: I’m in junior high and rushing home from school everyday to see the latest Use Your Illusion video on MTV. The first time I caught “November Rain” it blew my mind. My man Slash soloing in the that field. Rad! If memory serves, I bought those discs on CD and still play the same ones from 17 years ago.
Heavy beats slam through the room like war drums. The crowded nightclub is thick with cigarette smoke, booze, a trace of weed — and adrenaline. Here at Full Moon Saloon in Ybor City, well past midnight on a Wednesday, local emcees are engaged in rap battles — face-to-face put-downs built on improvised rhymes. Umbrella Corporation, a Tampa hip-hop collective that’s changing the landscape of the 813 underground, calls the venue home. Tonight their artists dominate the congested stage.
Creedence Clearwater Revival released a most impressive run of six sizzling roots rock albums between the span of 1968 to 1970 (hear that, Axl?). Chief revivalist John Fogerty appropriated the sounds of the swampland — although he grew up in California — and crafted a distinctive, brand of Americana resulting in a slew of hit singles (and imitators).
For years, most fans were content to enjoy the radio staples on collections like Chronicles Vol. 1 and Vol. 2.
Diehards - wanting to devour all seven, gloriously hard-chugging minutes of “Ramble Tamble” purchased classic full-lengths like Cosmo’s Factory(pictured). To celebrate the bands’ 40th anniversary, CCR’s label has finally reissued the vintage six and salted ‘em with tasty bonus tracks, fresh liner notes and Digi-Paks that remain faithful to the original vinyl covers Dad rolled his first doobie on.
Editor’s note: This just in from our man Autopsy IV — see his pic/bio after the jump — via ninebullets.net.
WHO: Black Diamond Heavies, The Mojo Gurus and The Beauvilles
WHAT: Concert
WHERE: Dave’s Aqua Lounge 10820 Gandy Blvd. St. Petersburg (727) 576-1091
WHEN: Tuesday November 18, 2008
DETAILS: Showtime 9:00pm, tickets $7. Doors are at 8PM, Beauvilles 9:00-9:45PM, Black Diamond Heavies 10:15-11:00PM, Mojo Gurus 11:30-12:15PM
This is a ninebullets.net sponsored show. We’re sponsoring this show cause we believe that The Black Diamond Heavies are an unstoppable force and we just wanna get on the fame train. Here’s what I said about these cats when I saw them at The Deep Blues Festival:
I was worried that I might have over-romanticized what actually getting to see the force that is The Black Diamond Heavies was going to be like, but the truth is I sold them short. I’d heard the hype, I believed the hype…I just didn’t understand the hype. Now I’ve witnessed the hype and I am a believer. BDH get down like no others, never miss a chance to see them live. They’ll rock the panties off your granny, believe that.
Tonight’s show with The Juke Joint Duo, Cedric Burnside and Lightnin Malcolm, has been canceled; Cedric’s grandmother passed away so Cedric is heading back to Mississippi to be with his family. Our thoughts and prayers go out them during this difficult time.
In anticipation of Creative Loafing’s new music site, which we plan to debut in the very near future, and an even better Tampa Calling, featuring a killer, stable of community contributors (wanna join? hit me up), we’re building and ultimate music links feature. See what I have so far — long ass list posted after the jump — and then please tell me:
A gifted, deep-voiced singer, razor-sharp songwriter and expert interpreter, Waylon Jennings reigned supreme in the 1970s as country music’s top outlaw. Like Toby Keith but infinitely cooler and more talented, Jennings churned out about a half-dozen awesome albums that ran from 1973’s Lonesome, On’ry and Mean to 1978’s I’ve Always Been Crazy. Crazy includes the hit “Don’t You Think This Outlaw Bit’s Done Got Out of Hand,” Jennings’ candid retelling of his infamous cocaine bust from the year before.
It would take Jennings until the mid-1980s to get off blow and then his health or reputation never fully recovered the way, say, Johnny Cash’s did, before diabetes buried Jennings in early 2002. The only thing of importance to surface in the years since Jennings’ death is the recently released Waylon Forever, an EP featuring Pops backed by son Shooter Jennings. Key track? A chilling remake of “Don’t You Think This Outlaw Bit’s Done Got Out of Hand” dubbed “Outlaw Shit.”
What do you do when your hipster-approved punk band ascends from relative obscurity to widespread commercial success? If you’re Against Me! frontman Tom Gabel, whose Gainesville band blew up with last year’s excellent full-length New Wave — and its catchy party-girl-grown-old hit single “Thrash Unreal” — you return to your folk roots and issue the ass stomping, street cred bolstering, solo EP Heart Burns, which we first reported here.
Over mostly strident acoustic guitar strumming, the bear-voiced singer bellows about familiar themes like the casualties of war, cramming words like “xenophobia” and “ennobled” into pop songs — making it sound nearly as natural as rhyming “moon” and “spoon.” No small feat.
It has been another rowdy weekend and I haven’t even made it over to Buck’s place yet for a Sunday afternoon cookout. Yesterday, I attended Ribfest, which runs through today, among several other places serving alcohol in St. Petersburg, and was thoroughly impressed by the sights and sounds being offered by country newcomer Natalie Stovall. Here’s what I wrote in my new Bar Tab column posted on the Daily Loaf:
By the time Kristin wanted to venture out for some kettle corn, new country hottie, singing and fiddling sensation Natalie Stovall had taken the stage. The blond Tennessee babe blew the audience away with appealingly poppy twang originals and ace covers of “Fancy” and “Orange Blossom Special.” Her adorable accent and the way she worked a pair of painted-on jeans made her performance extra memorable. In fact, I was so mesmerized by Natalie’s corn-fed fineness I didn’t notice the humongous dark cloud rolling in like that alien spaceship in Independence Day.
Editor’s note: Autopsy IV is the owner of the music blog ninebullets.net. He lives in a nondescript house in Southeast St. Petersburg with his wife and two bulldogs. He can regularly be found with a whiskey in hand at a multitude of Downtown watering holes and music venues. When sober, he is better at Guitar Hero than any self-respecting 35 year old should be.
Ever since The White Stripes hit the scene, there has been no shortage of two man (or woman) bands out there releasing CDs. Hell, there’s been no shortage of coverage for them on this here Web site, either. And while there are more two man bands out there than you can shake a stick at, I promise you there are none, and by none I mean ZERO, that are quite like the Black Diamond Heavies, which perform Tue. Nov. 18 at Dave’s Aqua Lounge in St. Petersburg. The Black Diamond Heavies are not for the uninitiated…Nay, the Black Diamond Heavies are for people who are ready to feel sin and salvation through the low end of a B3, with a tumbler full of whiskey and Van Cambell’s growl as a drinking partner. I’d been kicking around various ways to describe BDH’s sound and then I saw it spelled out perfectly on a CMJ review of Someone Else’s Class as such, “humid tone over heated tunes.” A perfect description for a gutturally raw and fantastic band.
Get your live music fix at our newly expanded Upcoming Concerts (formerly “Music Week”), which has the hottest (and even the not so hot) shows of the next seven days listed and blurbed.
Nude women have always been a favorite thing of mine. Writing this blog post here about how jiggle joints are recession proof got me thinking about the almighty pole, and the hotties who gleefully swing from it in all their naked glory. I haven’t frequented a strip club in over a year. That’s far too long of a titty bar break. Another one of my pals needs to have a bachelor party, soon, so I have an excuse to soak up some awesomely X-rated Tampa nightlife.
Top 10 stripper songs
1. You Can Leave Your Hat On, Randy Newman/Joe Cocker
2. Stripper, Lords of Acid
3. Girls, Girls, Girls, Motley Crue
4. Pop That Pussy, 2 Live Crew
5. Nude, Radiohead
6. Live Nude Cabaret, Jackson Browne
7. Nude Night, Chemical Brothers
8. Clothes Off!, Gym Class Heroes
9. Club Action, Yo Majesty
10. Cajun Stripper, Belton Richard & The Musical Aces
She Silverstein, who died on Key West in 1999, is best known for classic children books like Where the Sidewalk Ends, A Light in the Attic and my personal, tear-inducing fave, The Giving Tree, which was made into this animated movie, read by Silverstein. But he also wrote screenplays, and hilarious raunch in the form of short fiction and poetry for Playboy — and penned tunes. Excellent ones. His credits include Johnny Cash’s father-son fight classic “A Boy Named Sue,” Loretta Lynn’s mothers-have-it-hard gem “One’s on the Way,” the pub sing along sensation “The Unicorn,” which was a huge hit for the Irish Rovers and Dr. Hook’s signature tune “The Cover of the Rolling Stone.”
My Silverstein faves? “The Ballad of Lucy Jordan,” which Marianne Faithful covered, Willie Nelson’s “A Couple More Years” and Silverstein’s own recordings of “I Got Stoned and I Missed it,” “Stacey Brown Got Two” and “Polly in a Porny,” all from his 1969 underground classic Freakin’ at the Freakers Ball. Another landmark album is the superb 1973 country stoner collection of Silverstein numbers Bobby Bare Sings Lullabys, Legends and Lies. So it’s fitting that Bare Sr. and his son, the highly talented Bare Jr., who a few years back told me how much Silverstein meant to him as a songwriting mentor, are helming what will likely be the tribute album of ‘09. Anything involving My Morning Jacket, Black Horses, Emmylou Harris, Dr. Dog, Andrew Bird and George Jones has to kick ass. Here’s the PR release:
Editor’s note: Fresh review from our live music houndB. Treotch.
Right from the show opener — “A Picture of Our Torn Up Praise,” the lead track from Phosphorescent’s 2007 highly ethereal album Pride — it was evident the band’s live sound would be a departure from their studio-created sonics. Offering almost entirely different interpretations from the album cuts, the band was welcomed by the crowd at New World Brewery, even though many attendees were perhaps expecting something more mellow and intimate. Phosphorescent managed to hold on to the intimacy, while still adding energy to their songs, peaking with “My Dove, My Lamb,” “Wolves,” and a cover of George Jones’ classic “If Drinkin’ Don’t Kill Me (Her Memory Will).”
Tampa Bay live music lovers can be found absorbing loud sonics and sweaty sights in venues ranging from cozy rock dens to plush theaters to humongous arenas to moonlit lawns peppered with empty beer cups.
Everybody has his or her fave. Here at Creative Loafing, we have dozens of preferred rock, jazz, country, blues and experimental noise destinations.
Which made whittling our list of Top 20 concert venuesa real bitch, wrought with heated arguments and a near wrestling match between Eric Snider and I.
As a newspaper writer, every now and then, you become friends, real friends with readers. I spent about four years at the Bradenton Herald. I lived downtown. In a small town. And could always be found at the same bar, on pretty much a nightly basis. The bar was called The Old Main Pub. Kellie, Meghan and Dave were my close pals — and most dedicated readers. So, when Meghan sent me this request today, even though it was a busy, bitch of a day, I had to come through.
Meghan:
Remember back in the day when you wrote a piece on skate songs of the 90’s? Do you still have that? I’m DJ’ing somewhere the day after Thanksgiving and I am the “special guest” doing a ’speed skate power hour’ set. It’s a bar that has a special of $25 all you can drink from 9am-5pm on Black Friday. For the hour I am DJ’ing, there are dollar shots, and $2 car bombs. Hence, the Power Hour…
I remember that article [blog post for Bradenton Herald circa 2006] and wouldn’t mind taking a looky again…
Me:
Who loves you? It took me 40 min. (aka a Willie Nelson CD and 2.75 glasses of wine) to track this down. I expect a shout-out during your set. Yeah, I know, nobody will know who the hell I am but I want it anyway. Miss you, too. Holla if ya ever make it to Tampa.
Editor’s note: This, words and pics, just in from B. Treotch.
With a pulsing mantra of “Stomp! Clap! Shout!” — the soulful alt-country rockers Hoots & Hellmouth won over the NPR crowd of a 150 or so Tuesday at Skipper’s Smokehouse. Two strong sets drawing mainly from their self-titled (and only) release worked up the crowd, closing with a rousing rendition of “Samson & Delilah.”
Looks like I’m not the only person dazed, confused (and cranky) about the ongoing success of emo, especially genre pioneers Jimmy Eat World (pictured), the band most responsible for the Fall Out Boys of the world, and the former’s highly overrated 1999 album Clarity.
Here’s an interesting slab of commentary from the L.A. Times:
Editor’s note: This just in from B. Treotch, who will be reviewing tonight’s show.
With just enough post-election buzz, feel-good Americana left in the air, Philly’s Hoots & Hellmouth is bringing their style of lively alt-country — juiced with a dose of gospel revivalism — to Skipper’s Smokehouse tonight for a gig that starts at 8 p.m.. Atheists relax. There will be no saying of grace and plenty of beer. Founded by guitarists Sean Hoots and Andrew “Hellmouth” Gray, who along with Rob Berliner on mandolin and a rotating cast on upright bass and drums, are already well known for their spirited live performances.
The Black Crowes performance at Ruth Eckerd Hall last night, in front of a packed house of roughly 2,000, showed the band operating in several modes. There was the Hot ‘Lanta hoodlums Southern rocking the joint in taut, greasy fashion on “Goodbye Daughters of the Revolution” - the first cut/debut single off the band’s sizzling new record Warpaint. The song, the second of the evening, found all eight persons on stage cranking out a thick slice of purposeful rock ‘n’ roll gloriously punctuated by the slide (and standard) guitar heroics of secret weapon Luther Dickinson, the North Mississippi Allstar recruited for the Crowes’ latest album and tour.
It’s official. The most highly anticipated release in modern rock history, Guns N’ Roses’ Chinese Democracy, has finally arrived.
RollingStone.com has run a 4-star review. Here’s the opening ‘graph:
Let’s get right to it: The first Guns n’ Roses album of new, original songs since the first Bush administration is a great, audacious, unhinged and uncompromising hard-rock record. In other words, it sounds a lot like the Guns n’ Roses you know. At times, it’s the clenched-fist five that made 1987’s perfect storm, Appetite for Destruction; more often, it’s the one sprawled across the maxed-out CDs of 1991’s Use Your Illusion I and II, but here compressed into a convulsive single disc of supershred guitars, orchestral fanfares, hip-hop electronics, metallic tabernacle choirs and Axl Rose’s still-virile, rusted-siren singing.
Katy “I Kissed a Girl” Perry is embarking on a worldwide tour that will bring the vibrant vixen to Jannus Landing in St. Petersburg on April 28, 2009 for her final date of the far-flung jaunt.
By then, you have to wonder, will pretty Perry (aka “titties magee” in this cleavagely awesome pic) still be a hot commodity or a novelty hit has-been?
We’ll see, eh? Bored? Watch the video for the umpteenth time.
I woke up happy to learn that honky tonk hero Merle Haggard — country music’s greatest living singer, songwriter and guitar badasss — is recovering from successful lung surgery. Here’s the press release:
MERLE HAGGARD arrived home five days after having lung surgery in a Bakersfield hospital last Monday morning. It was discovered during a previous biopsy that he had non-small cell lung cancer, which has a far better cure rate than the small (oat) cell cancer. At this time, tests show that they were able to eliminate the affected tissue when they removed the upper lobe of his right lung. Upon waking up after the surgery, Hag opened his eyes, yodeled and smiled. Haggard’s post-operation progress was so rapid and successful he was discharged on Saturday night.
“Due to the surgeon, Dr. Peck, the Tylenol pushers on the fourth floor of the Memorial Hospital, and most of all, my wife Theresa, I’m feeling good…better and better each day,” says Haggard. “If not for the love and wisdom of my wife, I might not be around today.”
Haggard adds, “I’d sure like to know who controls the largest shares of Tylenol. God forbid it be the oil companies!”
Mr. Haggard and his family are respectfully asking for privacy at this time.
Your prayers and good thoughts would be very much appreciated.
It’s Friday morning and I already have my eye on the weekend. Chances are, you do, too. Here are the shows that matter — well, at least to us — going down in the next seven days. What am I most excited about? The Black Crowes (pictured), performing with added firepower courtesy of Luther Dickinson, at Ruth Eckerd Hall.
So, here it goes, I got terrifically drunk recently and shaved my head. Yep. Been planning on doing the deed for some time. Not exactly sure why I finally went through with it. Still waiting for my coworker/personal shrink Joe Bardi to give his analysis. Anyway, here are the songs that go through my naked head every time I look at that picture my neighbor Katie took of me while I was blogging away on election night.
It was often difficult to take pride in being an American during these trying years of the Bush administration. Sure, Obama probably won’t turn out to be the messiah many are expecting but for now, at least, I have faith that he’ll lead our country in the right, or at least a better, direction. And this afternoon, after reading the St. Pete Times‘ stirring cover story about 106-year-old Ann Nixon Cooper over a late lunch at Four Green Fields, I felt truly patriotic. Hence, a fresh playlist.
Top 10: Patriotic Songs
1. The Star Spangled Banner, Jimi Hendrix
2. This Land Is Your Land, Woody Guthrie
3. Back in the U.S.A., Chuck Berry
4. Born in the U.S.A., Bruce Springsteen
5. Living in America, James Brown
6. America, Neil Diamond
7. American Trilogy, Elvis Presley
8. America, Lou Reed
9. A Few Words in Defense of Our Country, Randy Newman
10. God’s Country, Ani DiFranco
Every pervs favorite “social networking site” is offering a slew of new music videos. Like any good MySpace bitch, I’m gonna pass on this killer info that found its way into my inbox. Here ya go:
***MYSPACE MUSIC VIDEO EXCLUSIVES***
MYSPACE MUSIC PROUDLY PRESENTS EXCLUSIVE PREMIERE OF NEW MUSIC VIDEOS FROM OASIS AND KINGS OF LEON Check out the world premieres of these highly anticipated new videos from Oasis and Kings of Leon exclusively on MySpace Music. Oasis
MySpace Music is proud to announce the worldwide premiere of the highly anticipated new music video from international rock sensations Oasis. The video is for the hit single “I’m Outta Time” off of the band’s Dig Out Your Soul album which premiered globally on MySpace before hitting store shelves in October 2008. The video will be available on the band’s official MySpace profile http://www.myspace.com/oasis beginning on Wednesday November 5th. Oasis joined MySpace in 2004 and has more than 350,000 friends on MySpace.
Kings of Leon
MySpace Music is proud to announce the worldwide premiere of the highly anticipated new music video from Kings of Leon. The video is for the hit single “Use Somebody” off of the band’s Only By The Night album, released in early September 2008 and will be available on the band’s official MySpace profile http://www.myspace.com/kingsofleon beginning on Tuesday November 4th. Kings of Leon has more than 240,000 friends on MySpace.
Experimental jazz piano trio Bad Plus has become an unlikely jam band fave in recent years. Secret weapon? Superbly screwing with classic rock and grunge staples like Black Sabbath’s “Iron Man,” Nirvana’s “Smells Like Teen Spirit” and Rush’s “Tom Sawyer.” Sure, the threesome composes originals, but that’s not what gets these guys paid. So it should come as no surprise that Bad Plus are following the same template for their new disc.
Jazz trio the Bad Plus offers more unique interpretations of pop and rock classics on “For All I Care,” due Feb. 3 via Head’s Up. In a first for the group, the album also features contributions from veteran Minneapolis vocalist Wendy Lewis.
Among the covers given the Bad Plus treatment this time around are Nirvana’s “Lithium,” the Bee Gees’ “How Deep Is Your Love,” Pink Floyd’s “Comfortably Numb,” Heart’s “Barracuda” and Yes’ “Long Distance Runaround.”
Jennifer Smith, 27, of SoHo, watching her candidate Obama lead. The Dubliner.
Wed. A.M. UPDATE: Obama wins!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
So, here I am. It’s just past 10 p.m. and I’m cranking my Obama Victory Mix. My man is winning, and I’m feeling good about life, my country, humanity in general. Damn it all if he loses, eh? Here’s what I reported tonight:
8:03 P.M. Middle-age(d?) white man at Tiny Tap Tavern, looks up at Fox New Coverage, sees Obama in the lead, and says to me: “Either way, they’re going to burn things, in celebration or defeat, just look at Philadelphia.”
Yikes!
8:19 P.M.: Four people currently at SoHo’s MacDinton’s. Soccer on the TV!
McCain man Joey
9:27 P.M.: SoHo shows it’s civil side. At the Dubliner a crowd of mid-20-something Hyde Park residents discuss the pros and cons of Obama and McCain. Equal number of people voted for each candidate, but a consensus is reached that everyone present is proud of the fact that young people are voting. As McCain voter Joey Lenz, 25, put it, “I would be so happy to something like 85% of the country voted in this election.”
9:28 P.M.: “The Rack is packed. But no one save a few servers is offering even a cursory glance at the Fox News playing across the sushi/sports/billiards bar.”
Bruce Springsteen delivered a moving endorsement speech at an Obama in Philly last month. The Boss described the United States as a “sacred house of dreams” that has been torn down by the current administration. But it can be rebuilt, he said by Obama. “I want my house back, I want my America back, I want my country back,” Sprinsgteen intoned before launching into a stirring, solo acoustic rendition of “The Rising.”
I like John McCain. I do. But I like Barack Obama a whole lot more and think, more than any other politician to campaign in my lifetime, he could truly help the working class, especially during these trying times. So, here’s the fingers-crossed, mix CD I made to help get me through the rest of the evening … And then celebrate!
1. Ain’t No Mountain High Enough, Marvin Gaye and Tammi Terrell
2. Roc Boys (And the Winner Is…), Jay-Z feat. Kanye West
3. Dancing in the Street, Martha Reeves
4. Livin’ in the Future, Bruce Springsteen
5. Higher Ground, Stevie Wonder
6. Celebration Day, Led Zeppelin
7. Heading for the Light, Traveling Wilburys
8. It’s a Long Way to the Top, AC/DC
9. I Won’t Back Down, Tom Petty
10. Chocolate City, Parliament
South Tampa’s fabulously independent record store Vinyl Fever is offering a 15 percent discount to customers who come in wearing an “I voted” sticker. So after spending three hours waiting around to do your patriotic duty treat your ass to the new AC/DC, Ani DiFranco, Hank III or Lucinda Williams … Or something even cooler. Here are the details:
Maybe you are a little tired of this election, and that’s a sentiment we can understand, BUT today is the day to lay aside any cynicism or helplessness towards our political system you may be feeling, because NOW is not the time for weak hearts: Step Forward, become the thinking, responsible citizen you know you have within, and vote in this presidential election. We’ll reward you with 15% off your Vinyl Fever purchase* on Tuesday or Wednesday- just wear your “I Voted” sticker.
*(purchase of $10 or more)
A crowd of more than 100 filled a comfy Crowbar to see experimental indie rockers Deerhoof (pictured) play a lively set late last Sunday night (Nov. 2) in support of their new album Offend Maggie. The veteran, genre-defying San Francisco quartet invoke thoughts of the Pixies gargling with Frank Zappa.
Deerhoof can’t quite craft a song like either of the Franks, but they make up for it with a unique style, polished and tight; all the while manipulating tempo and the downbeat against their psychedelic pop offerings. Not to mention employing #11 on the list of things Stuff White People Like – Asian Girls – in the form of Satomi Matsuzaki as their bass player and lead singer. Another trait setting Deerhoof apart is their tasteful use of improvisation, both within song and during song transitions that kept the set fluid throughout the night.
Experimental Dental School is a Portland, Oregon based duo consisting of the precious and powerful Shoko Horikawa on drums and vocals and Jesse Hall on guitar and vocals. Their sound was endearing and energetic, even strangely reminiscent of a stripped down Fugazi or Primus, but something about Jesse Hall’s delivery did not make me a believer.
Fertile Crescent opened with a short set, just tolerable on its cuteness. They are 2/3 of the band Flying which was scheduled to open, but transportation issues forced a change.
Ben Nichols, raspy-voiced leader of cow punks Lucero, has announced that he’ll release his debut solo disc early 2009. From CMJ.com:
Lucero frontman, Ben Nichols, has announced the release of his debut solo album, The Last Pale Light In The West, due out in January courtesy of Liberty And Lament/The Rebel Group. The mini-LP will feature songs based on the Cormac McCarthy novel, Blood Meridian. Nichols was also featured on the recent Hold Steady album, Stay Positive.
In full band news, Lucero has announced that their sixth studio LP is due next summer. This follows the big news of Lucero signing with recording giant, Universal Records.
Back when Rolling Stone was the Pitchfork of its day, the mag enjoyed dissing awesomely hellbent hard rock bands like, say, Led Zeppelin. AC/DC is another act that RS and other critics have largely ignored or wrongheadedly slammed over the years. “The [hard-rock] genre has hit a new all-time low,” RS wrote of AC/DC’s spectacularly scuzzy 1976 debut LP High Voltage. The mag makes up for past sins, sorta, this week by putting the big boogie bad asses on the cover and running an excellent 4,800-word profile written Senior Writer David Fricke.
The piece opens with great quote from singer/Sarasota resident Brian Johnson:
AC/DC singer Brian Johnson perches on the edge of a sofa in a New York hotel room with a blank look on his face, mumbling to himself in a grainy whisper, his head and shoulders drooping with exhaustion. There is nothing wrong with him. Johnson, a robust man who is built like a bear and who talks in a booming growl, is doing his imitation of AC/DC guitarist Angus Young on tour, backstage just before showtime.
“It’s amazing, watching him in the dressing room,” Johnson says with a raspy cackle through his thick northern-England accent. “He can be totally knackered, in the middle of a long stretch of shows, sitting there with a cigarette and a cup of tea.” Johnson goes into that gnomish slouch. “Then it’s, ‘Twenty minutes, boys.’ He gets up, hardly a word, disappears around a corner — and comes back in those clothes. He’s got a fag in his mouth, a jaunty look on his face, his guitar slung on him.
“He’s like Clark fucking Kent!” Johnson exclaims. “He goes into a phone booth and comes out as the 14-year-old imp, ready to rock!”
An eclectic, highly energized crowd swarmed the Ford Amphitheatre in Tampa today to catch Jimmy Buffett’s free “Last Chance for Change Rally.” The margarita maven’s message? Vote for Obama.
Florida most famous singer/songwriter delivered the message with minimal preaching, opting instead to perform his sing along hits and occasionally pepper ‘em with Obama references. For instance, on “Come Monday,” Buffett sang, “I think I’m going to the land of change.”
The all-ages audience included first-time voters Jordan Orr and Kaleb Goare. Both men are 18-year-olds living in Lakeland. Neither are particularly huge Buffett fans but both plan to vote for Obama on Tuesday.
“I look at Obama and I think of the American dream,” Orr said (pictured far left). “I’m so excited to be able to vote for him.”
Tampa’s 13 Ugly Men threw a killer Halloween bash last night at the newly renovated Sheraton Riverwalk in downtown Tampa. An estimated crowd of 2,000 included Amy Winehouses, Hugh Hefners, Slashes, Sarah Palins, awesomely naughty nurses and scores of smokin’ hot she-devils. If you were a dude on the prowl, it was the place to be. About 70 percent of the attendees were women, the vast majority being babes.
I sported a venetian mask and spent quality time hanging with fellow Gaither High School class of ‘96er Lance Ponton (the dude dressed up like Pee Wee Herman). He organized the event with his fellow Ugly Men. Ponton’s personal VIP section remained well-stocked with Ketel One, Red Bull and fine women throughout the evening. The get-your-freak-on costume party (which benefited the Crisis Center of Tampa Bay) was still raging when a couple female partiers and I jumped in a cab around 1:15 a.m. and headed back to SoHo for a drink at MacDinton’s. Good times.
So much to do, so little time: Rev. Horton Heat at Jannus tonight! Red Elvises, Zappaween 13, Deerhoof, Joni Mitchell Tribute show and more in Music Week. Bobby Rush headlines Sarsota Blues Fest.
Atlanta-based Mastodon, the only metal band that really matters these days, has dubbed their upcoming record … Crack the Skye. Works for me. Can’t wait to hear it. Details via the press release:
Burbank, CA- Atlanta-based heavy rock masters MASTODON have confirmed details behind their upcoming Reprise Records album scheduled for release in early 2009.
The seven-song strong, 50 minute tour de force entitled CRACK THE SKYE, was recorded at Southern Tracks Studios in Atlanta and produced/mixed by Brendan O’Brien (Rage Against The Machine, Springsteen, Pearl Jam, AC/DC, etc.). CRACK THE SKYE follows their massively acclaimed 2006 epic BLOOD MOUNTAIN, which was voted the #9 in Rolling Stone Magazine’s “Top 50 Album’s of 2007″ and the #1 Album of The Year in Decibel Magazine. Greater accolades were bestowed upon them last year when MASTODON were named “Best Metal Band” in Rolling Stone Magazine’s Annual poll, and “Best Band On The Planet” by the UK’s Kerrang! Magazine.
Tracklisting for CRACK THE SKYE is as follows:
1. Oblivion
2. Divinations
3. Quintessence
4. The Czar
(I) Usurper
(II) Escape
(III) Martyr
(IV) Spiral
5. Ghost of Karelia
6. Crack The Skye
7. The Last Baron
As with each of their previous releases, the packaging for the new album will be as bold and breathtaking and the music contained within. Multiple packaging formats are expected. Details to be revealed in the near future. Until then, MASTODON has been asked to support label-mates Metallica in Europe this coming Summer 2009.
Internationally known, St. Pete-based singer/songwriter Lorna Bracewell is not one to cram politics down the throats of her fans.
But she feels especially passionate about Amendment 2 and we couldn’t agree with her more on the issue.
Here’s the email Bracewell’s manager sent this morning:
A personal note from Lorna:
Dear Florida fans, supporters, friends and associates,
Over the years I have enthusiastically used the platform I have access to as a musician to draw attention to important social issues such as domestic violence and sex discrimination. I have never used that platform to take sides in a political debate. Today, however, I am doing just that. I am writing to ask you to vote NO on Amendment 2, which will be on the Florida ballot in just a few days - November 4th…
My Bar Tab column this week is an instructional piece about obscuring the fact that you’ve just entered the workplace hung the fuck over, perhaps with plans to continue your buzz. Yep, bender time. I’m kinda on one right now. Whiskey Joe’s had an awesome, highly attended private party bash yesterday from 5 p.m. to 9 p.m. We — as in me and my fellow felons — arrived around 6:15 and stayed well into the pay-for-your-drinks time. The food — burger sliders, pulled pork, oysters, calamari, chicken pizza, ribs and some other stuff I can’t recall — was excellent, especially after all the free sparkling wine, cabernet, chardonnay, rum runners, pear martinis, beer and some steaming coffee-vodka combo that rocked. Anyway, here’s a snippet from my latest Bar Tab:
Days like these separate the men from the boys, the women from the girls, the amateurs from the ombibulous pros. Because even seasoned drinkers surpass their stop sign on occasion. But, like the great high-ball warriors of old, we rise in the morning, start the coffee machine, jump in the shower and make sure we arrive at work on time. Because the first rule of hiding a hangover is not showing up late. That only draws added attention to the fact that your face looks like it just spent the night sandwiched between Kirstie Alley’s ass cheeks.
I’ve always had a soft spot for Bocephus, especially his early material. For instance, his 1976 album Hank Williams Jr. & Friends is a genuine classic. But now he’s turned into a rich bloated, redneck — hanging with Kid Rock and stuffing his face with a steady diet of filet mignons and retard sandwiches.
Listening to this ridiculously erroneous pro-McCain song he penned (a rewrite of my beloved “Family Tradition”), I can no longer call myself a fan of the man — and I own a half-dozen of his CDs. “Wow, I’m saddened and embarrassed by this,” reads one comment. I couldn’t agree with it more. Or the broadcaster who calls Junior a “fake populist.” Go back to you mansion, Bocephus, and go suck on one those Cuban cigars you adore, you fucking fraud!
She has settled into a life of motherhood and domestic bliss but that doesn’t stop Ani DiFranco from opening her new album with a killer line. “New year’s Eve we dropped mushrooms and danced round the house,” she sings, creating a clever metaphor for the surreal horror of life under the Bush administration. A resident of New Orleans, DiFranco employs the Crescent City’s famed Rebirth Brass Band to offer simmering horns that, along with a subtle string section, reinforce the song’s pathos. Most of Red Letter Year follows the title track’s richly orchestrated template, with the singer/songwriter covering topical and personal material.
Shelton Hank Williams III continues his reign as the ultimate death-defying Nashville bad ass/head case. The antithesis of pop country acts such as Tim McGraw, the hellbilly renegade’s fourth album proper finds him melodiously yelping about fighting, fucking, drinking, suicide, broken hearts, Satanism and snorting coke over hopped-up honk tonk and the occasional spooky sound effect. A serious rarity among Music City releases, Damn Right, Rebel Proud earned the singer/songwriter a Parental Advisory badge of honor for the second album in a row, making faux outlaws such as Toby Keith look like pussies in comparison.
Austin-based singer/songwriter, and former grunge wunderkind Ben Kweller brings his new stoner country sound to the Crowbar in Ybor City tonight. Here’s an excerpt from a feature I did on him for the current issue of Creative Loafing:
“I mean, life is life; everybody has their own journey, and I feel real fortunate,” Kweller says from a tour stop in Chicago. “I had such a head start at this music thing. I learned a lot at an early age and through my experiences as a teenager was able to start a successful solo career at 18. Once I moved to New York from Texas, I knew all the bad shit to stay away from and good shit to keep with me. It was a good thing. I’m one of those believers in the ‘if it’s meant to be’ philosophy.”
The presidential election is lurking around the corner, and if the devil has his way, Sarah Palin will be one-heartbeat away from the Oval Office come Jan. 20, 2009. Don’t get me wrong, I would totally do her. But the thought of this pit bull with lip stick — who couldn’t name one newspaper she reads or correctly define the role of the Vice President to an elementary school student — running the country, or any part of the continental U.S., has me scared shitless. I’ve created a Top 10 song tally to help me cope with anxiety. Enjoy.
Top 10: Songs for Sarah Palin
10. North to Alaska, Johnny Horton
9. The Lady in Red, Chris de Burgh
8. Lipstick Lies, Pat Benatar
7. Hit Somebody! (The Hockey Song), Warren Zevon
6. Pistol Packin’ Mama, Bing Crosby and the Andrew Sisters
5. The Hunter Gets Captured by the Game, The Marvelettes
4. What Do You Do For Money Honey, AC/DC
3. Evil Woman, Electric Light Orchestra
2. Stupid Girl, The Rolling Stones/Garbage
1. Up Against the Wall, Redneck Mother, Jerry Jeff Walker
“Steve Earle just signed up [this past Saturday],” Simmons told me. “I saw him do a gig in a little barn on the outskirts of San Francisco, a private party, and he posed with a uke for a picture. [Earle] told me he’d already voted for Obama in Nashville since he’s going to be in Australia on election day.”
No matter how hard we might try, family gatherings and holiday season don’t always add up to joyous — or even peaceful — experiences. But when the Trucks clan joined forces for their Soul Stew Revival bash at Tampa Theatre on Monday, a near capacity crowd of around 1,400 witnessed domestic bliss at its finest. The jubilant vibe, marked by expert musicianship, permeated the ancient venue. If the rumors are true about the historic movie house being haunted, even the ghosts must have been grinning.
