Friday, December 2, 2011
TybeeDawg’s Pick of the Litter 2011
Tuesday, November 15, 2011
Monday, August 29, 2011
Katrina - Six Years Gone
A bit of the Georgia Satellites from 2005 and a blog I wrote back in 2006:
It's been forever and a day since I felt like this
want a fifth of wild turkey and one little kiss
and I don't miss that girl
if I did I wouldn't let it show
I might go to the moon
might wind up dead
wake up in morning in a strangers bed
well I'm not concerned with any of that no more
----------------------------------
After landfall, I watched the levees break, and I kept watching as the news channels broadcast hours and hours and scene after scene of destruction and rescue and despair, and finally, as I watched the dissolution of an entire city, I watched myself sink into a kind of walking daze of depression where I shielded myself from the truth that this could happen in a city in the United States of America.
Things are not back to normal by any definition of the word, no matter how liberally that word is used in New Orleans. It will never be the same.
But one thing about New Orleans is that it will carry on, the spirit will prevail.
--------------------------------------------
Six Years Gone
water through my hands
Monday, July 11, 2011
Willie Nelson’s Country Throwdown Tour
Lawrenceville, Georgia
June 12, 2011
For all of Willie Nelson’s well documented, well deserved status as a country music outlaw, he is in fact a traditionalist in one very important way. Willie understands the role of the musician as a craftsman, as the practitioner of a trade: one that shows up on time, does what the people paid to see and then gets back on the bus with an assload of cash, on the road again to that next gig. But that’s what any big touring whale does; it shows up, dazzles the crowd and sets up down the line to do it again. Willie’s wake encompasses a large area and swamps fans of both modern and classic country along with those who like him because of his choice of smoking materials, and that should set the bar a bit higher. And yeah, this thing was one well-lubricated machine.
Lukas Nelson & The Promise of the Real
You can’t knock the setup or the people at the wheel of the Throwdown – it ran as smooth as Hank Aaron’s swing.
The warm up bands played behind the outfield wall, while the main stage was located behind second base. (Once we were allowed on the field, we secured prime general admission spots on the third base side of the pitcher’s mound.) There was also a singer-songwriter tent with a Bluebird Café brand slapped on it.
the singer-songwriters get their moment on the main stage.
The absolute highlight of the day was Lukas Nelson and the Promise of the Real, playing behind the right field wall. Willie’s son threw out plenty of high energy, crowd-pleasing guitar solos while fronting a blues rock outfit that had less in common with Waylon than it did with Santana.
you just can't tell 'em apart, can ya? that's Lee Brice and Randy Houser.
But still, it’s days like this that make me realize that today’s country music is the aural equivalent of olestra – slicker than goose snot, the manufacturer uses common materials to create something artificial and it lacks any real substance or importance and passes through you quickly . What fills this nutritional wasteland are backward hat wearing, posturing musicians who boast of their dirt road cred while cranking out tunes that have more in common with Don’t Stop Believin’ than Your Cheatin’ Heart. Indeed, Lee Brice came onstage to ACDC’s For Those About to Rock and that’s really what everyone did. If you believe that when confronted with unfamiliar bands and unfamiliar songs, you can tell a lot from their choices of covers, then Bob Seger’s Turn the Page, Muddy Waters’ Champagne and Reefer (served up in a blues rock style exactly how Texas guitar hero Ian Moore does it on the Hempilation compilation disc) and Skynyrd’s Simple Man (which, if you listen to the lyrics, is the defining, lasting Skynyrd legacy, not Free Bird) should tell you something about the day’s events.
Jamey Johnson.
For the record, Jamey Johnson had a solid set and Willie came out and did what Willie does, which is run through the songs you want to hear and he does it in style, with his impeccable guitar picking and vocals out in front of a veteran, family outfit that delivered at every turn.
Willie and son Lukas.
And yet, irony, thy name is Adam Hood.
During his turn at the songwriter in the round format on the main stage, he abruptly launched into his wry, eye rolling Play Something We Know (“Play somethin' we could sing to/Play somethin' we know/Man, play some Whiskey River man. Play somethin' we know.”) and I was the only one around me who knew the words.
Curtis Lynch
July 2011
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
Steve Martin and the Steep Canyon Rangers Rare Bird Alert
Steve Martin and the Steep Canyon Rangers
Rare Bird Alert
Rounder Records
Steve Martin’s first foray into bluegrass, The Crow: New Songs for the Five-String Banjo, netted the comedian, writer and banjo picker a Grammy so it’s hard to imagine him topping that with his sophomore release, but this is absolutely a much better record in every way.
Teaming up with North Carolina’s Steep Canyon Rangers was an inspired move and this collaboration with of one of the finest bands in the genre today makes Rare Bird Alert a winner. The songwriting is lighthearted fare that continually brings a smile, from the fly-fishing song Yellow to a fast tune called Women Like to Slow Dance to Jubilation Day, which does the best job of blending Martin’s humor with a traditional bluegrass structure. There are guests: Paul McCartney takes a turn at the mike on Best Love and the Dixie Chicks warble sweetly on You, but the Rangers tie it all together over these thirteen tracks, the last two of which are live, and illustrate Martin’s ability to make people smile: the a cappella Atheists Don’t Have No Songs is my personal favorite but the hilarious, dead-on bluegrass take of Martin’s King Tut is a fitting end to this fine record, tying up loose ends nicely.
The Crow, with its many guest stars, was a fine, entertaining collection of bluegrass songs and Martin certainly knows his instrument, but with the solid underpinnings of the Steep Canyon Rangers, what we have here is a bluegrass record. And that makes all the difference in the world.
Curtis Lynch
May 2011
I Love: Tom T. Hall’s Songs of Fox Hollow
I Love
Tom T. Hall’s Songs of Fox Hollow
Various Artists
Imagine a couple of kids roaming through Tennessee farmland one summer, learning about life and nature and asking those inevitable, innumerable questions to their uncle. Now imagine that their uncle is the legendary storyteller Tom T. Hall who took their questions and his answers, put them into song and in 1974, released Songs of Fox Hollow, a masterwork of simplicity in songwriting. Now further imagine that two current-day Nashville singers and writers set down to recreate this classic album with a little help from their friends and even from ol’ Tom T. himself. Co-producers Peter Cooper, Nashville’s own musical scribe and historian, and Eric Brace (Last Train Home) have been actively dipping into the traditional country well for a while now. Cooper’s recorded songs by many of the masters, from Kris Kristofferson and Tom T. Hall to more recent artists like Rodney Crowell, Emmylou Harris and Todd Snider. Most recently Cooper and Brace released Master Sessions with Lloyd Green and Mike Auldridge, two of country music’s most decorated talents. (Cooper also released a companion CD titled The Lloyd Green Album, well worth a listen.)
Brace and Cooper gathered a top-flight bunch at Hall’s studio at Fox Hollow and in a few days created a record that is full of such unabashed joy and love of life that you can’t help but smile as you listen. Patti Griffin’s lovely vocals and Cooper’s acoustic guitar on I Love start the record out nobly, followed by Buddy Miller’s take on Sneaky Snake with Duane Eddy adding his patented guitar twang. Each of the twelve songs feature a different lead vocalist including Elizabeth Cook, Jim Lauderdale, Gary Bennett (BR549), Jon Byrd, Bobby Bare (who admirably takes on Hall’s #1 hit I Care) and Fayssoux Starling McLean dueting with Tom T. on the record’s only new track. The excellent core band is well-known to those who follow Brace and Cooper’s work: Green on pedal steel, Jen Gunderman on keys, Mike Bub on bass and Mark Horn on drums. Lauderdale’s vocals on I Like to Feel Pretty Inside are sterling as always, while Mark and Mike’s hilarious rendition on The Song of the One-Legged Chicken remind me of Shel Silverstein. You’ll keep coming back to the endearing How To Talk to a Little Baby Goat with Jon Byrd on vocals and the The Mysterious Fox of Fox Hollow from Eric Brace and Last Train Home. With I Love: Tom T. Hall’s Songs of Fox Hollow, Cooper and Brace have rediscovered the imagination of youth and reintroduced it to a new generation.
Imagine a time when your life was one big adventure, with wonder waiting over every hill and mystery behind every tree. Now imagine yourself getting a copy of I Love: Tom T. Hall’s Songs of Fox Hollow. You can thank me later.
Curtis Lynch
May 2011
TybeeDawg’s Pick of the Litter – May Music Festivals
TybeeDawg’s Pick of the Litter – May Music Festivals
Blind Willie McTell Blues Festival
Thomson, Georgia
May 21, 2011
For my money, it’s hard to beat the Blind Willie McTell Blues Festival in Thomson, Georgia on the 21st of this month. With unfailingly well-booked lineups, this one-day event sits in a cow pasture just outside the town and is as friendly of a gathering as you could imagine. Although in the past, the festival has usually featured a classic blues act (Magic Slim, Hubert Sumlin, Willie “Big Eyes” Smith, Pinetop Perkins), this year’s lineup boasts a distinct post-Jazzfest, New Orleans feel with Trombone Shorty and Orleans Avenue, Marcia Ball and one of the most talented electric guitarists going, Sonny Landreth.
Twenty-five bucks ticket price, good food (especially the desserts!), great music, cold beer and an atmosphere that is intimate enough to let you walk right up front any time.
This festival holds a special place in my heart because it’s the last time I saw Sean Costello play and the last festival I had the privilege to attend with my friend, Patrick McGough.
Curtis Lynch
May 2011
Monday, February 28, 2011
Grant Peeples
Okra and Ecclesiastes
Gatorbone Records
Every day, with the sun, millions of Americans rise up and leave their homes, some to jobs and some to sit and watch and wait for one. And each evening, many of those same millions grab a quart of beer and a lottery ticket or two. The former a purchase for short-term gain, the latter the kind of retirement plan that too many of us rely on, the only chance at an American dream that is doled out at too-steep odds.
That’s what Grant Peeples, equal parts troubadour and troublemaker, knows and writes about. And with Okra and Ecclesiastes, produced by Gurf Morlix and recorded in Austin, he has, right here, a pretty damn good record. Grant’s songwriting ability has solidified and as much as I liked his previous one, Pawnshop, the twelve tracks here tell his stories with more economy and confidence. The title comes from the opening track, My People Come From The Dirt, and from a place where clinging to guns and religion isn’t a derogatory remark. (“White bread and kerosene/Catfish and flatbeds, sweat stains and retreads, okra and Ecclesiastes”)
The strength of this record, however, is when Grant’s scathing social commentary blends with a genuine eye for the human condition, like the two married lovers who have no place to go except out underneath the Powerlines, a song that recalls Guy Clark. (“Signs are everywhere: “Danger Keep Away” Well….this looks like the perfect place”)
Grant Peeples sings about these people, because these people are our people. And our people? They come from the dirt.
Curtis Lynch
PS: If you want this record, Grant trusts you. Write him and he’ll send you a copy, then he will trust you to pay him.
Government Cheese - Hey Hey My My
Nashville, Tennessee
February 26, 2011
From the window of a downtown Nashville club, I watched a parade of four or five eighteen-wheelers tap their brakes and roll slowly forward, waiting to load out after the Brad Paisley mega-tour made its brief stop at the cavernous Bridgestone Arena. I turned around and waded back into a densely packed crowd that was stomping and swaying to the sound of resurrection.
Just why was the stone rolled away? In fact, it was because Government Cheese, a reborn band of post-punk ne’er-do-wells, were touring again. Sort of…this Nashville gig was not only the second gig of the tour, but it was also the last. It was also very fitting that their two-stop journey launched in their hometown of Bowling Green, Kentucky and then splashed down in the current home of one of the group’s members and keeper of the sonic flame, Tommy Womack. It was Tommy’s drive and desire, his love of what he and his band mates did (and maybe a bit of wanting to finally hear some ackn
owledgement of their place in music history) that inspired him to write the incredibly funny and delightfully insightful Cheese Chronicles: The True Story of a Rock N Roll Band You've Never Heard Of and to pursue purchasing the original masters from ex-manager Scott Tutt (other authors have told tales of being screwed by managers or record companies, but Womack’s are a must-read), then re-mastering and re-releasing them as a two-disc compilation titled Government Cheese: 1985-1995.
I never saw the Cheese back in the day, when they were selling out clubs all over the South. I was content with the music that was blossoming in Athens and with the ones that came to play: REM was (in Womack’s words) “still kickin’ then” and when Jason and the Nashville Scorchers showed up to play The 40 Watt, I saw Peter Buck and Michael Stipe jump onstage and roar through Bully Holly’s Rave On. I kind of imagine that was what Government Cheese sounded like back then.
Not that they didn’t sound good now. They came onstage to an embrace from a crowd that was more family reunion than audience. Womack appeared with a hospital bracelet on his wrist: nothing serious, but serious enough to recruit Warner E Hodges, the Scorchers’ lead guitarist, to go from knowing one song in the set to possibly having to play all of them in case Tommy couldn’t take the stage. As it was, he stayed there through a bunch of songs, even though Tommy played and sang with fire and fever the whole night. After an introduction from Athens’ very own William Orton Carlton (better known as Ort and more than a story on his own), they plowed through about thirty songs, including fan favorites Camping On Acid, Mammaw Drives the Bus, Fish Stick Day, and Tim Krekel’s (and Scorcher cover) Help There’s a Fire. Skot Willis still had the pipes and the moves of a lead singer that had his share of lingerie launched in his direction, Chris “Viva Las Vegas” Becker sneered and stalked the stage (often making sure Hodges was on the same page during songs), Billy Mack Hill played bass and sang with fervor and drummer Joe “Elvis” King pounded the skins as hard as one would expect from someone wearing a Led Zep t-shirt.
As dozens of roadies labored to load tons of equipment into trailers a few blocks away, the Cheese just played on. Maybe, just maybe, the choice isn’t between whether to fade out or to rust.
Maybe you can just rave on.
Curtis Lynch
March 2011
Thursday, February 3, 2011
Amos Lee "Mission Bell"
Amos Lee
Mission Bell
Blue Note Records
Although at times the tunes here sound a little too slick, as some of David Gray’s work does, mostly Lee maintains a soulful folkie tone that propels the songs along, from Jesus (written after the death of his grandfather), which carries an ethereal, Jim White vibe to Hello Again, a Stevie Wonder-infused, horn-tinged ballad. One cannot underestimate Lee’s soulful vocals, which are the strength and backbone of this record. That tragically overused word soulful is most often applied to Lee, but in this case it’s wholly appropriate: by raising his voice, he can raise our spirits, as he does on Flower and Windows Are Rolled Down, as well as on the two tracks where he shares lead vocals with his guests. Lucinda sings achingly on Clear Blue Eyes, while Willie lends his omnipresent voice to a reprise of El Camino. Lyrically, Lee may not turn a phrase as well as he bends a note, but the production and performances disguise that. Mission Bell is a very good record, one that shows Amos Lee has the potential to make a great one.
Curtis Lynch
February 2010