Despite the crazy loyal LA following Randy Weeks has acquired, I had yet to see him play live, and this seemed like as good a time as any. The former one-half of the duo Lonesome Strangers, and the author of "Can't Let Go," recorded by Lucinda Williams on her legendary Car Wheels on a Gravel Road CD, Randy's long been hailed as a favorite singer/songwriter in the LA alt-country scene, and his nasally vocals draw appropriate comparisons to Willie Nelson. Clearly, the audience favorite was his "Transistor Radio," also the title track from his latest CD.

By the time Jesse Dayton started, the tiny Cinema Bar was CRAMMED full o' people taking advantage of the great music for no cover charge. Getting anywhere - to the bar, the restroom, the dance floor - was a chore, but Jesse's performance made up for that. A set that never slowed down included his signature "Kissin' Abllene Goodbye," "I'm at Home Gettin' Hammered (While She's Out Gettin' Nailed)", a cover of Steve Earle's "Hometown Blues," and a killer medley finale that ran the gamut from Johnny Cash to Willie Nelson to Robert Earl Keen. His playing just gets better and better, and his good looks don't hurt either. I was a little surprised that the composition of the audience wasn't decidedly more female, but then again, the last thing the Cinema Bar needed that night was more people.

Then again, maybe more Jesse Dayton fans in this world wouldn't be such a bad thing after all.

The House of Blues Anaheim show was the second of a five-night run throughout Southern California. Right away, I'll admit at the start that I feel a little odd writing this review, since our dear friend DJ Wanda was at the Tuesday night show at the HOB Anaheim, and I consider her to be a much more eloquent, knowledgeable, and opinionated writer than I am. But she, bless her heart, is at Punk Rock Bowling this weekend, and I don't see her pausing from her drinking any time soon in order to write about the show, so I'm taking the initiative and just doing it, damn it!

Th' Legendary Shack Shakers took the stage promptly at eight o'clock (thankfully, I'd obeyed Wanda's "Don't be late!" commands), and after standing in the longest line ever at the ticket window (I suppose that's what I get for not ordering my tickets online, but as I discovered, I saved myself $8 in service fees by purchasing at the ticket window), standing in another line to get wristbanded, and yet another line to get have my ticket scanned and go through security, I was in, with plenty of time. I fully expected Col. J.D. Wilkes to have completely undressed himself on stage by the end of his set (he never took his pants off, though - sigh), and with his wild antics, I was surprised when he didn't start walking on the ceiling.

In contrast, Junior Brown just stood in one place for his hour, picking his guit-steel, demonstrating usual Junior Brown greatness, despite a long awkward pause at the beginning of his set and a dead mic that had to be replaced in the middle.

The Reverend is well aware that several members of his congregation may have had plans to see him at more than one show during this run, so in a genius move to create some diversity for those fans, after a solid 40 minutes, the Reverend started taking requests, mixing those in with his own selections. A disclaimer at the beginning of the request announcement gave him the freedom to turn down requests he didn't think he'd be able to do ("I've written over 100 songs, and have killed over one billion brain cells."), but it sure was exciting when someone would request a song he'd clearly not done in a while, but played it anyway.

I understand that the Reverend played until past 12:30a, but I left three-quarters of the way through. That's the problem with cute shoes - they really aren't great to wear to concerts that require you to stand for four and a half hours. By the time I left, my feet HURT.

If you don't already have tickets for the weekend shows at the Henry Fonda Theatre or the Troubadour, you're probably SOL, as I believe both of these are now sold-out. But maybe you'll get lucky and have a chance to sell your soul to a scalper for them. The Reverend will save you.

A side effect of this situation is that my father subsequently believes it is his right to open any piece of mail addressed to me that looks important. While it could be considered a violation of my privacy, it's actually a blessing. My dad knows I need the help. Case in point is my vehicle registration. Last year, when the DMV sent my truck's license renewal to my parents' house, my dad, of course, opened it, called me immediately, and made sure I took the forms with me after my last trip to Riverside, along with a reminder, "Don't forget to send that in!"

He should have been more forceful.

Not immediately having the $153 it would cost to renew my registration, I wrote out the check, placed it in an envelope, stamped and sealed the envelope, and placed in my desk drawer at work, with the thought that in a couple of weeks, when my bank account had the benefit of another paycheck, then I'd mail it in.

Then I promptly forget about it.

And not just forgot that it was in my desk, as opposed to it being somewhere else, but entirely forgot that such a thing even existed in my desk drawer...or anywhere else, for that matter.

Until three months later, when I got a phone call from my dad, who'd opened a letter addressed to me from the DMV, and learned that now I was delinquent with my registration renewal. He was FURIOUS. I promised to mail in the now $277 registration renewal, after convincing myself and insisting to my dad that I HAD intended to mail it in on time, but that it must still be sitting in the pile of papers next to my bed, and I'd just forgotten about it. But darndest thing, I never was able to find the forms in those piles of paper.

Because, as I discovered, EIGHT MONTHS later when I was clearing out my desk at work, having given my two-week notice at the radio station formerly known as KZLA, that that damn form had been ready to go after all, and was sitting right there in my desk drawer, just waiting for me to walk across the building and place in the mail crate. Who knew?!

With this change in job came a decision to make myself over as the girl who has her shit totally together. The weekend after Thanksgiving, I started mailing out Christmas cards...an event which, in the past, I started thinking about on December 23. Last year, many of my friends reported receiving their Christmas cards shortly after the New Year. This year, I disgusted many of them with my togetherness. My Christmas shopping was completed weeks beforehand (thank god for online shopping). I'm trying to make it a point to pay bills on time, to send "thank you" cards (and to send them promptly), and to at least put a little effort into my appearance at work - meaning the days of unbrushed hair at the workplace are over (unless I'm working on a weekend - then the "real" me takes over). It's all about the baby steps, people.

Well, last year's fiasco subsequently convinced my dad that I was COMPLETELY unable to take care of myself WHATSOEVER, and when my vehicle registration renewal arrived at the beginning of this year, it sent my dad into conniptions, because clearly, I couldn't be trusted to send ANYTHING in on time ever again. On top of that, my truck would have to get smog checked this year, too, and if I couldn't even handle the simple task of writing a check and putting it in the mail on time, surely I would be unable to drive to a smog center and have it tested, too, on top of all that. During the 36 hours that I was home at the beginning of January, my dad clearly thought I should make it a priority to take my truck to a smog center. Having enough other stuff to do, I told him I knew a good place in Burbank that could be trusted with such a task, and that if I didn't get it taken care of by the next time I was in Riverside, we could take care of it then. Thinking that I'd probably lose them, my dad volunteered, "Why don't you leave the forms with me, and then when you come back we can take care of it, then?" I had a better suggestion: "Why don't I just keep them with me, and then no matter what I decide to do, I'll have the forms with me?" He was clearly displeased with this offer, but he grudgingly accepted my logic.

It took a couple weeks longer than I'd wanted to finally make it to the smog center. The only mechanic I trust with my truck is named Fred, who works at a Shell Center on the corner of Verdugo and Hollywood Way in Burbank. He only charges $25 to change the oil in my truck, and doesn't try to sell me a bunch of extra services just because I have tits and clearly don't know any better than to take the suggestions of anyone in a pair of coveralls with grease underneath their fingernails. He's gotten more business from me than any of those yayhoos at EZ-Lube.

Unfortunately, Fred doesn't do the smog check himself, he takes it to a place just down the road. But he'd had some problems with his helper at the shop, and didn't have anyone to watch the shop while he ran down to the test-only center. He did, however, give me the card of the center, so I could theoretically take it down there myself. A few days later, when I had more time to drive all over the Valley, I took it down there, bright and early at 8am. But, oops, the guy who does the smog test wouldn't be in for another half hour and did I want to wait? Not a problem, I walked down to Lancer's, a nearby restaurant on Victory that I'm a big fan of, mostly because it's populated primarily by old people, so it's usually QUIET in there.

A couple hours later, I got a phone call from the smog center; did I know my gas cap was missing? Well, I did, but I'd planned to get that taken care of soon, too. It had only been stolen a couple of weeks ago...oddly, just before I got the notice from the DMV. The mechanic informed me that I couldn't pass the smog test without it.

Oh.

Usually, the mechanic has extra gas caps for sale, but today he was out, did he mind if he went out to the auto parts store to buy one for me? NOT AT ALL. And once the new gas cap was in place, I was proud to receive the certificate saying that my truck had passed its smog test, despite the workings of some evil person who tried to screw me over by stealing my gas cap.

And on January 17, a full two weeks before my fees were due, I not only wrote out the check for the renewal, stamped and sealed the envelope, but also PLACED IT IN THE MAILBOX. No $277 late fee for me this year.

My dad says there's hope for me yet.

The reality of the night exceeded any of those expectations. Where else can you find an LA truckstop girl (complete with mini-skirt, leather jacket, and cowboy boots with stiletto heels?!), a guy so drunk that just when you're convinced he's about to pass out he asks you exactly how much do draft beers cost here anyway, and a traffic accident that involves a fire hydrant, four (five?) cars, and floods East Anaheim Street? Only during the country night at Alex's.

The music started a little after 9pm, with the fabulous honky-tonk sounds of the Roadkill Kings. They're a great band, but broke the unspoken rule that if you're going to cover a variety of songs, you should only cover one song per artist, and not perform two songs by Hank 3, and especially not two songs by Hank 3 from the same album. However, they redeemed themselves in my eyes with their last song, which they dedicated to anyone who has "a dream."

(At this moment in time, the Widowmaker of Trucker Up looks around and announces, "Nobody here's got a dream! You see any dreams here? I don't see any dreams here. I see a couple of nightmares over there!")

They started playing a ballad, which I thought was terrible - I'm all about inspiring songs, but who the hell closes their show with a ballad?! No one thinks it's a good idea to put the crowd to sleep with your last song.

Then they started singing. And the opening line stopped me from yawning.

"Sherry was a waitress...."

It was at that point that, I LOST. MY. MIND.

It didn't matter that I was the only one reacting. It didn't matter that I was the only one who knew where they were going with this. It didn't matter that I was clearly the only one who recognized the opening lyric from Robert Earl Keen's "The Road Goes on Forever."

I cheered like there was no tomorrow.

Trucker Up, per usual, outdid themselves. I tell people that they shouldn't come to a Trucker Up show if they aren't real, true, hard-core country fans, or if they're easily offended, because Trucker Up offends everyone ("including hard-core country fans!" according to the Widowmaker). Thursday night, Trucker Up pulled no punches - and took shots at and offended not only their Merch Girl, but also female lead vocalist and guitarist Southbound Sandi. Why the Widowmaker isn't a star already baffles me.

Trucker Up's lead guitarist, the Kentucky Colonel, was double-clutching it that night, as he followed up Trucker Up's rable-rousing set with his "other" band The Cheatin' Kind, who rocked my world with my "always-favorite" cover of Tammy Wynette's "Your Good Girl's Gonna Go Bad." Saints of the Gutter wrapped up the show, and I'd be lying if I said I didn't like it when the lead singer grabbed his crotch. Nothing could have been more appropriate for a night like that.

I can't wait to go back. No, seriously, I can't wait. All shows should be that much fun.

Which is how I found myself making the trek from Glendale to the Cinema Bar in Culver City Wednesday night to see Paul Chesne's acoustic show. I've really only seen him play once, and that was at Reckless Kelly's first appearance at the Viper Room. His sound was a little too 'rockish' for my tastes, as was his CD, but I figured that I might as well see if I liked him any better acoustically than I did with his full band.

I did.

I found that only two guitars lent itself better to the singer-songwriter aspects of alt.country, and I was able to appreciate much more what it is he had to say (I wasn't really convinced he had anything to say, or at least nothing that I could understand him saying, at his Viper Room show). Paul made the bold move of doing a show comprised entirely of new material, without any "support" from previously known songs that fans could get excited about and sing along with - and yet still managed to enrapture the small crowd (which for a while included Randy Weeks and Ramsay Midwood). He's lacking a bit in stage presence; I don't think he ever mentioned his own name, but I'm satisfied that given some more time, he'll have quite a following and formidable presence in the alt. country world.

I got to chat a bit with Paul after his show, and asked him if his new CD would be more acoustic, like this show, or more along the lines of his previous CD. I was a bit disappointed when he said the new CD would be "all over the place."

A pleasant surprise was headliner Matt Ellis, who's kind of a Tim Easton with a really sexy Australian accent. If Paul Chesne is an up-and-comer, Matt's another singer-songwriter well on his way to stardom. And not bad to look at, either.

"Oh! You must have a little girl."

"Uh - no - it's mine. My friend's daughter saw it and wanted to buy it for me, because she knows I like 'My Little Ponies.'"

"You must be a Sagittarius."

"Um, no."

"Libra."

"No."

"Taurus."

"No."

"Oh! Aquarius."

"No."

"Gemini."

"No."

"Leo."

"No."

"Virgo?"

"No."

"Uh, Aries?"

"No."

"Pisces."

"No."

"Capricorn."

"No."

"Scorpio."

"No."

"What's left?"

"Cancer."

"Oh! Cancer. Yeah, you like to cook."

"Actually, no, I don't cook."

"You only cook a few things, but you cook them really well."

"No, I really don't cook anything. The only things in my refrigerator are beer and the occasional cold pizza."

"Oh. Well, when you're dating someone, you don't have to worry about your cheating on them, because you're not even attracted to anyone else."

Reluctantly, I admit, "Yeah, that's very true."

"Yeah, I was pretty faithful when I was married."

What a keeper.

1. Dixie Chicks - Taking the Long Way
Is it country? Is it not? I don't know; actually I don't really care. It's brilliant.
2. Rosanne Cash - Black Cadillac
I dare you not to listen to it again.
3. Johnny Cash - American V
The album Cash was working on with Rick Rubin at the time of his death.
4. Various Artists - Pilgrim: A Celebration of Kris Kristofferson
Gretchen Wilson's version of "Sunday Morning Coming Down" is just KILLER.
5. Radney Foster - This World We Live In
See if you can't relate to "Half of My Mistakes."
6. Kasey Chambers - Carnival
A definite departure from last year's Wayward Angel. Kasey's happy again - for the most part.
7. Mark Knopfler / Emmylou Harris - All the Roadrunning
Oh! is all I can say.
8. Shawn Mullins - 9th Ward Pickin’ Parlor
Brilliant writing, brilliant playing.
9. Mindy Smith - Long Island Shores
The girl who did that cover of "Jolene" that everyone was talking about comes back with her autobiographical sophomore CD.
10. The Wreckers - Stand Still, Look Pretty
Michelle Branch and Jessica Harp team up for an album that's rich in harmonies and gems like "Tennessee" and "Cigarettes."
11. Trent Summar - Horseshoes and Hand Grenades
You'll either love or hate what he's done to "He Stopped Loving Her Today," but either way, you'll be jealous of his red pants.
12. Jack Ingram - Live: Wherever You Are
Technically a re-issue of his Live at Gruene Hall CD (with a couple of studio tracks), but still a great album.
13. Randy Rogers Band - Just a Matter of Time
Another Texas band that makes it big without selling it.
14. The Duhks - Migrations
Old-timey, bluegrassy, Grammy-nominated!
15. Bruce Robison - Eleven Stories
Eleven great songs - um, stories, from a crazy-talented (and very tall) songwriter. Who hasn't lived "All Over but the Cryin'"?
16. No Justice - No Justice
Why do so many great bands come from Texas?
17. Darrell Scott - The Invisible Man
An unintentionally successful Nashville songwriter who gets unintentionally political while trying to find his own place in the world.
18. Garrison Starr - The Sound of You and Me
This album got me through a terrible breakup. She rocks.
19. Solomon Burke - Nashville
The King of Soul goes country - and well!
20. Carrie Rodriguez - Seven Angels on a Bicycle
The debut solo effort from Chip Taylor's prodigy. He helps her out, but she holds her own.

I will miss Tower Records. In an attempt to achieve closure, I loaded up with marked-down stuff at their going-out-of-business sales. More about that later.
The old Tower Records store in Brea always had special significance to me. It opened at the corner of St. College and Imperial Hwy in 1980. I was in High School and it was the first Tower I ever visited. It seemed huge. I had grown up buying records at rinky-dink mall stores like Music Plus and the Wherehouse. From there I graduated to smaller independent stores like Musix Box in Fullerton and Record Trading Center in Orange.
Tower was a whole new kettle of fish. Tower had everything. As you walked in the door, they had singles to the right, imports on the left, tapes (cassette AND 8-track) in the back, and acres of albums in the middle. I was in hog heaven. They even had Ticketron. Remember Ticketron? The first tickets I bought there were to see the Clash at the Hollywood Palladium.
When times were tough, I counted change to buy records. When times were good, I counted folding money to buy records.
I even had a romantic relationship begin at the store -- sort of. There was a girl that I knew from school. I would see her occasionally after that, at clubs and such. I even saw her when I was selling peanuts at Angel Stadium. She was at a baseball game with her dad. I thought it was really cool that she was reading a book during the game. Anyway, it took a chance meeting at Tower Records in Brea for me to finally ask her out on a date. She listened to The Cure but I liked her anyway.
As my world expanded to include larger, more exotic Tower Records stores in more glamorous, more exciting places like Hollywood and San Francisco, I realized what small potatoes the Brea store actually was. I have since been to Tower Records stores in Canada and Europe, but the Brea store will always have a special place in my heart. You never forget your first.
Sometime between my moving away from Orange County in the late 80s and my return in the early 00's, the Brea store moved from its original location to a much bigger and snazzier building across town. The older building is now a skate shop. Pretty soon all Tower Records stores will be something else, like earmuff and girdle factory outlets or beekeeper supply warehouses.
The going-out-of-business sales began sometime in November 2006. That's about when shameless scavengers like me started picking at the bones. Heres most of what I got in no particular order. Most of them were just a few bucks each. I excluded stuff that I will be giving out as Christmas presents because someone I know might read this.

Joan Jett and the Blackhearts-Sinner. A little too slick, but still pretty darn good. Great covers of AC-DC by Sweet and Androgynous by the Replacements. What's she hinting at?

Lord Sutch-and Heavy Friends. Great early 70's hard rock self-indulgence. This album was produced by Jimmy Page and features Page, Jeff Beck, John Bonham, Noel Redding, and so on. A lot of it sounds like Led Zeppelin leftovers - Sutch was considered to be a horrible singer, but he's nowhere near as horrible as Robert Plant. In retrospect, he's not so bad at all. You can hear Sutch's influence on 2nd generation English punk singers like Jimmy Pursey, Charlie Harper, and Stinky Turner.

Lord Sutch-The Hands of Jack the Ripper. Not as good as "Heavy Friends." In fact, its not very good at all. Guests on this one include Keith Moon and Ritchie Blackmore.

Roger Daltrey-Can't Wait To See the Movie. Someday, that big 80's sound will become retro-cool. You know that sound - tons of synthesizers, big echo-drenched drums, four billion background singers, and those cheesy saxophones that sound like broccoli farts. When it does come back, I'll be able to say Ive been listening to this stuff for years. Truthfully, this album is a big bucket of shit. I like it.

Buzzcocks-Operators Manual. As a best-of compilation, I prefer "Singles Going Steady", but you can't go wrong here. There is some overlap with the two albums, but not enough that you shouldn't have both.

Buzzcocks-Flat Pack on to Sanity. This came out in 2006. The last couple of their albums that I heard were pretty dull. This one is better.

Curt Kirkwood-Snow. Where can you go after the Meat Puppets? This album is mostly acoustic and almost folky. Actually its amazing. He hasn't changed his style, he's simply figured out what it is, refined it, and has even improved on it. This was a real find. I dont know what it is but it makes perfect sense to me.

Deke Dickerson-Deke Down Under. Its the same old Dick Dekerson stuff but I like it. This is a combo-pack containing a CD and a 7-inch record. It is the last vinyl I will ever buy at Tower Records. I think it was the last piece of vinyl in the store. Sniff.

The Minus 5-Down With Wilco. In case you dont know, The Minus 5 is a revolving-door collective led by Scott McCaughey of the Young Fresh Fellows. The band usually includes Peter Buck of REM and one or two of the Posies. I saw them quite a few times when I lived in Seattle. Their shows were usually good, but their albums were not -- too many inside jokes and stuff. This one, from 2003, is surprisingly good. It is almost-but-not-quite conventional pop with a few odd bits thrown in.

Elvis Costello-Live With The Metropole Orkest. Im wary of the "Elvis Costello With Strings" concept. He tends to over-sing in situations like that. I prefer his rock albums where he just yells. I'm not alone, judging from the number of these left on the shelf, but this one is really good. He is backed by a big-band jazz outfit with horns, strings, and the whole shebang. "Watching The Detectives" is reworked to sound like a TV theme song from the 50s and it works perfectly. It could be the definitive version. There is a bonus disc containing the instrumental score of an opera composed by Mr. Costello. Since I am not an expert on classical music, I can't tell if its good or bad but I like it. It sounds like a mish-mash of movie soundtracks.

Wrecking Crew-Static Dreams. Heres one for the kids. These talented youngsters sound kind of like the Adolescents. I like the last song with added keyboards and backing vocals and stuff. They have the good sense to stop before they get to the broccoli fart saxophones, but I'd probably like that too.

Epoxies s/t 5 song EP. Heres another one for the kids. I saw this band open for The Damned last month. They seem to exist in an alternate new wave universe where it's always 1980. They cover both "Beat My Guest" by Adam and the Ants and "We're All Clones" by Alice Cooper. They are respectful to both songs while making them sound not only like each other but like the Epoxies. I think the singer, Roxy Epoxy, has true star quality. She looks good and she can yodel. You cant beat that.

Hellbound Hayride-Stampede. This is from 2000. They sound pretty much the same now as they did then. If Johnny Cash were alive today, he would probably still sound pretty much like Johnny Cash.

Flaming Groovies-Teenage Head. The Flaming Groovies also exist in an alternate universe, but in theirs it is always 1965. This album originally came out in 1971 and it is fleshed out here with a couple of hundred bonus tracks. The song "Teenage Head" should have been the Stairway to Heaven of 1971. Something about that last statement doesn't seem right.

Flaming Groovies-Slow Death. This is a compilation of mostly unreleased recordings from 1971-1973 on Norton Records. I trust Norton and so should you. I might have paid full price for this if I had known it existed. But I didn't so I didn't.

Misfits s/t. What a bummer. The disc has a manufacturing defect. There is a blob of label ink on the playing side and the disc freaks out and skips all over the place. I used rubbing alcohol to remove some of the ink but it still won't play all the way through. There is an All Sales Final policy. Caveat emptor.

The Dictators-Bloodbrothers. This was their third and final album. It may not be their best, but it's better than a sharp stick in the eye.

Soul Asylum-The Silver Lining. I wrote my history-should-be-kinder-to-Soul-Asylum manifesto in my last record-store-going-out-of-business story and it still applies. I could be in a rut.

Big Star-Extended Versions. This was a pleasant surprise. It looked like another budget-bin best-of compilation. If you read the fine print, it says "Recorded Live" but not when or where. It is a post-reunion recording, sloppy and no-frills, with an uneven mix, feedback, and plenty of bum notes. I like it a lot.

Motorhead-Bomber (2 disc deluxe expanded version). Every home should have this. You should keep it in the medicine cabinet and periodically use it to clean all of the worlds impurities out of your ears.

Stiv Bators- LA Confidential. In between the Dead Boys and the Lords of the New Church, Bators recorded a couple albums worth of 60s influenced garage/power-pop/Nuggets type stuff. He did it well. Since the Dead Boys covered "Hey Little Girl" and the Lords did "Live For Today", Im guessing that's where his heart really was. He probably would have done more if there were a buck in it.

ADZ-Live Plus Five. A recent release from Tony Reflex's other band. Its funnier and more rock n roll than the Adolescents. I like it.

Dave Davies-Kinked. This is a pretty good compilation of solo stuff recorded by the other brother in the Kinks. “Death of a Clown” is here as well as “Living on a Thin Line” and a couple others that a casual Kinks fan would know. This holds together pretty well.

Dave Davies-Chosen People. I liked the “Kinked” CD so much that I splurged one whole dollar for this one. I didn’t really like it on first listen and I haven’t bothered to listen to it again. I may never.

Thunders, Kane, and Nolan-You Can’t Put Your Arms Around a Memory (DVD). This is a 1987 Johnny Thunders show captured on a single video camera. Whoever shot it sure liked to zoom in and out. I actually like it better than a “professional” looking live video. It’s a little grainy and blurry, but it does a good job of capturing the essence of the show. It’s weird to think that all these guys are dead now.

Marshall Crenshaw-Field Day. This guy’s songs are just too perfect. It’s hard to grab hold of something that has no flaws. That’s probably why he never became hugely successful. I defy any sane, rational person not to like “Whenever You’re On My Mind.” It has more hooks than a pirate barn dance.*

Marshall Crenshaw-Good Evening. This has more great songs messed up with cluttery 80’s overproduction. Big Music Biz had no idea what to do with this guy. If you want a good Marshall Crenshaw album, get his first one or a compilation of demos and home recordings called “The Nine Volt Years.”

*The phrase I had originally written was “more hooks than a pirate convention.” I was very proud of this phrase until I googled it and discovered that I didn’t invent it after all – it has been used at least 78 times before. Damn. Among the other phrases I considered was “more hooks than a slaughterhouse” but I thought it might be too rough. Besides, it is too similar to another music writing cliché “more chops than a butcher shop.”

**********************

The Final Day – December 20, 2006
All CD’s were a buck or a buck twenty-five – buy 4 and get the 5th for 1 cent. Being the way I am, I had to buy in multiples of five. I ended up with these ten items.

Hank III-Rising Outlaw. A friend of mine used to refer to him as “Hank Williams Junior the Third.” I can’t think of him any other way now. I like the way the major label slick production on this album contrasts with his wild quivery voice.

Hank III-Lovesick, Broke & Driftin’. On his second album, Hank Williams Junior the Third was given a little free reign. He wrote most of the songs and the whole thing has the back-porch feel that I think he wanted. However, I have a problem with the song “Seven Months and Thirty-nine Days.” Based on a thirty day month, wouldn’t it be more accurate to call it “Eight Months and Nine Days?” That’s like me saying I’m four feet and twenty-three inches tall.

Thin White Rope-The One That Got Away. I remember seeing this band sometime in the 80’s or 90’s. They were critical darlings from Central California. They sounded kind of like Television with a little bit of twang. It’s okay, but I’m thinking that I should have got that CD by Blackmores Night instead.

The Waitresses-The Millennium Collection. A guilty pleasure. I liked the blasé, hipster art chick singer. When KNAC was a new wave station they used to play the song “No Guilt” a lot.

Starz-Stadium Rock. This band was kind of like UFO Lite. They had a great song called “Cherry Baby.” It isn’t on this CD but I got it anyway.

VH1 Hair Metal Unplugged. I forget the real title, but it’s something like that. I don’t have it in front of me right now so I’ll just take a guess. It has bands like Winger and Dokken doing stripped-down acoustic versions of their songs. Who would have known that behind all of the makeup, all of the hairspray, and all of the silly costumes were a bunch of really bad songs?
I bought this as sort of a gag gift – as if I owe anybody an explanation.

Melvins-Houdini Live 2005. Heavier than dirt. Heavier than wet stinky dirt. Heavier than wet, stinky, polluted dirt from a nuclear test site. I think you get the idea.

The BellRays-A Little Faith. I like the way they sound with horns. They should do more of that. Just when you think they start getting pretentious and showy, they throw in a song with a title like “Snot Gun.” I hope they have a good lawyer because the title track sounds a lot like “Have A Little Faith in Me” by John Hiatt.

The Pirates-Home and Away, Live in the 90’s. This is ridiculous and great. The Pirates were best known for the 1960 hit “Shakin’ All Over.” The 1990’s version consisted of guitarist Mick Green, his son on bass, a drummer, and some obscure “could have been a contender” heavy metal singer. Almost every song sounds like “Shakin’ All Over,” but the only time we hear the real song is during the last minute of an eight minute jam/medley. A magnificent train wreck.

Ben Vaughn-Designs in Music. Ten years after the revival of instrumental space age bachelor pad music and forty-some years after its peak, Ben Vaughn has the final word on the genre. The word is “beautiful.”

Getting to the theatre proved to be a bit of a challenge, as the Bakersfield Christmas Parade had not only shut down several streets and traffic lights, but made parking quite a challenge, as the Fox Theatre doesn't have it s own parking structure. I wound up parking in a church five blocks away and hoping that the Presbyterians wouldn't tow me away (they didn't). The Fox Theatre is beautiful - it has an old-timey marquee like the El Rey, but has a majestic interior like the Henry Fonda Theatre.

Jack played a set that was reportedly very different from his Los Angeles set - a testament that he was easily able to pick up on the fact that the Bakersfield audience was (surprisingly, to me, at least) a little more conservative. No jumping off amps for Jack in Bakersfield. Jack didn't play any radoi hits until about four songs in, instead leading with some of my favorites like "Fool" and "Biloxi," which he dedicated to his estranged father, who was having a birthday that night, and was the unfortunate impetus behind this sad and angry song. Jack's new single is a remake of Hinder's "Lips of an Angel," which is indicative of how ballsy Jack is to try to introduce this song to a country audience. In the words of my friend Tricia, it's "kind of a fucked up song" about hooking up with your ex while your girlfriend is in the next room. Bakersfield didn't know what to make of that.

We headed backstage after Jack's set, where the sound was terrible, so I can't say anything about Gary Allan's set, although I'm sure it was incredible. I like Gary Allan 'cause he not only covered Todd Snider's "Alright Guy," but also made it the title track for one of his albums. I like it 'cause he says the word "dick." In case you were wondering, nothing particularly exciting was going on backstage, but several members of Jack's Beat-Up Ford Band raved about a punk band called The Dead Ringers. And plenty of drinking.

Texas' Randy Rogers Band lit up the stage at the Universal Amphitheatre Wednesday night with their high-energy (especially fiddle player Brady Black, who I really thought was going to do damage to his fiddle, with his aggressive playing - check out their Live at Billy Bob's CD to get a taste of what I mean), while Miranda Lambert burned it down. She's a well-adjusted young lady who likes to sing about revenge, murder, bar fights, etc. Her big hit is called "Kerosene," her current single "Crazy Ex-Girlfriend," and she's got another song coming out (her label thought it "inappropriate" for the holidays) called "Gunpowder." Her on-stage presence kicks ass - and I'm not just saying that because I'm afraid she'd kick mine if I didn't - but because she's the real deal (Who else has the good taste to make a point of covering Steve Earle's "Hillbilly Holler"? Okay, I was the only one in the audience singing along, but good for her for making the people aware!).

Dierks was for sure the most mainstream act of the night, but he is one of the more genuinely talented artists of the genre. While I think he has yet to put out an album that truly captures how strong he is live, Dierks always entertains, and gives me hope for mainstream country music. Dierks has a background in bluegrass (and unlike a certain other mainstream artist who has recently made the laughable announcement that he's going to produce a bluegrass album, because bluegrass is such an influence on his shows), and it shows. Dierks played a couple of songs - including his hit "My Last Name" - acoustically - with fiddles, banjos, and the four or five guys gathered around one mic. Dierks is a guy who likes the atmosphere of small clubs, and to re-create the feel of a more intimate venue, the first several rows of the orchestra section were removed for standing room only - for those who had wristbands. Unfortunately, the sound was a little off - it seemed that after the first song, one guitar was awfully loud, and to compensate for it, Dierks seemed to be singing even louder - distorting the sound. Many audience members left early, citing the loudness as the reason, which unfortunately made the venue even emptier. This was clearly not a sold-out show, which was disappointing for such a strong lineup. The show finished with a cover of Johnny Cash's "Folsom Prison Blues," turned into a duet with Miranda. And believe you me, there's nothing scarier than the intensity in her eyes when she sings, "I shot a man in Reno just to watch him die," 'cause you believe that after a song like "Gunpowder," she just might have.

What's meaningful to the Duhks is doing their part to protect the environment. They've teamed up with radio station Indie 103 and key members of environmental organizations like the Natural Resources Defense Council and Heal the Bay to discuss how individuals and the greater community can support environmental sustainability. This press conference is taking place at the legendary Cherokee Studios on Fairfax, following a four-song recording session with the legendary Bruce Robb, who has engineered albums for Ricky Lee Jones, Art Garfunkel, and Frank Sinatra. The current structure that houses Cherokee Studios is scheduled to be torn down and replaced with the first-of-its-kind "green" professional recording studio.

The Duhks themselves admit that it's sometimes a challenge to minimize their impact on the environment, since being a touring band doesn't not easily lend itself to the cause. But whenever and wherever possible, the Duhks do their part. The following are some simple (as well as more challenging) suggestions and reminders that the Duhks, NRDC, and Heal the Bay suggest individuals and bands can do to help minimize your impact on the environment:

- Eat organic and eat local. Shopping at Farmer's Markets is not only fun, but also supports local growers and farms.

- Don't leave the engine idling while waiting for that last band member to jump in the van.

- Use the towels provided in hotel rooms more than once. You'll help conserve water and energy by minimizing the amount of necessary laundering.

- Turn the lights off when you leave a room.

- Use the same paper coffee cup 16 times a day if you have to. Minimize waste.

- Use hemp products. Not only are they chemical and pesticide free, but hemp clothing also provides more UV sun protection than other kinds of clothing and lasts four times as long as cotton!

- Have a rider in your touring contract? Request organic foods and natural water for your dressing room. You'll not only be eating healthier, but also help spread the word about minimizing environmental impact.

- What to do with all those record bags from Amoeba? Take them to the grocery store when shopping as an alternative to "Paper or plastic." No need to deal with double-bagging!

- Work in an office? Start a recycling program if there's not one already in place. All you need is a plastic waste can or bin - and a sign that says, "Recyclables only." It may take some time for your co-workers to catch on (and not throw trash in there) - but once they do, you'll all be making a considerable contribution.

- Get involved with Heal the Bay or other environmental organizations. They offer a variety of time commitments for even the busiest of people.

- Join Quarter2Three Records in "Rock Your Planet" - an environmentally focused eco-music tour focusing on spreading this message to Southern California's college and university campuses. Be a title sponsor, media sponsor, donate food / drink, instruments, etc. Contact Tiffany Downey at 323-653-3412.

- Adopt an endangered species as a Christmas gift for friends and family. Save the Mantee Club and other organizations offer "adoptions" as gifts, which usually include a quarterly newsletter, adoption certificates, photos of "your" creature, plus the great feeling of knowing you're protecting our natural resources!

All the ingredients were in place for a kick-ass show, and Wayne (and Safari Sam's!) delivered. I was at work until 11:30p, but a call to the venue ahead of time assured me he wouldn't go on until 11p, and I was further informed "He's gonna play for a LONG time." Despite having to stop at the ATM, despite having to walk for what seemed like forever to get to my truck, despite being stuck in traffic on the 101, despite being stuck behind a slow-ass mother fucker on Sunset Boulevard who clearly did not understand that I WAS MISSING WAYNE HANCOCK FOR CRYING OUT LOUD, I managed to get there around midnight, just in time for "Thunderstorms and Neon Signs" (which made my life complete) and STILL got to see Wayne play for TWO HOURS. He did take some breaks, letting his girlfriend / merch girl take over for a couple of songs. She delivered a pleasant enough set, but for sure couldn't compare to Robert from Big Sandy, who relieved Wayne for a song. In addition to old favorites, Wayne did a bunch of songs from his latest CD Tulsa, and some requests, even some which he clearly would rather have not performed ("Don't ever write a song you don't want to sing," Wayne advised - I don't know what his problem was - 'cause I totally dug the song).

Kudos to sidemen Eddie Biebel and Jake Erwin, who strum and slap like there's no tomorrow. Even on ballads, the combined energy about these three guys makes them unstoppable, but at the same time - in more boisterous songs, there's something about the breaking of Wayne's voice that makes him seem as lonely as the train he's nominatively compared to. And we're totally okay with that.

Words and Pictures by Kevin Hillskemper

The Detours have been doing some reunion shows lately. Check their website for a history lesson. You probably know some of their songs. The Adolescents recorded a few and DI recorded a few more when former Detours passed through their ranks. The last time I saw the Detours was about 25 years ago at a backyard party in Anaheim. No, I don't expect you to care.
This was likely to be the last show that will be at The Mort, a rehearsal and performance space in a run-down industrial park in Orange. It's rumored to be haunted. That's probably why my pictures came out all spotted.

The set got off to a shaky start when the PA system quit during the first song. Singer Gordon Cox conducted the crowd in a sing-along until the sound came back. He is equal parts Huey Long. Robert Goulet, Cal Worthington, and Joe Piscopo. He could have also sold them a car, had them speaking in tongues, and sold them acreage of California Pines. He's pretty darn good.

The set was short and action-packed. I'll throw out a few songs titles in case you want to catch any - "OC Life", "The Saint", "No Way", "Creatures", and so on. I'm not sure if they played "Falling Out" or not. It seems to be stuck in my head for some reason.
Rikk Agnew certainly let his presence be known. The small size of the room emphasized his guitar-hero theatrics and usual antics like thwacking himself on the forehead with a microphone.
Halfway through the bands performance of "Hang Ten in East Berlin", he suddenly abandoned his guitar and stormed offstage. After retrieving his grocery bag full of liquid refreshments, he ran up to me and grabbed me by the shirt collar. He pulled me toward him and started us both in a swirling death-spin. Not being much of a hoofer myself, I did not reciprocate on his offer of a personal slam dance. He then tossed me aside and disappeared into the night.
I admit that it caught me off-guard, but I wasn't really surprised. If you put yourself anywhere in the proximity of Rikk Agnew, stuff like that is going to happen.

Rikk Agnew drops his pants for the camera.

Much later, I realized that that was one of the defining moments that made me want to work in music. I wanted to be that person saying to others, "You have to hear this song." I remember purchasing the subsequent Chicks albums (Fly and Home) the day they arrived in stores. By the time Taking the Long Way was released, I was high enough on the radio food chain to not only get a free copy, but an advance, even. A nice little bookmark for career progress.

And while some would critize the Chicks for the progress of their own careers, many more would celebrate their progress as artists, as evidenced by their just-about-sold-out show at the Staples Center Friday night. In short: they've come a long way from the days of "pink feather cowboy hats," as Martie put it. Their audience, which four years ago, would have been comprised primarily of droves of fifteen year old girls linked arm in arm, or seven year old girls accompanied by their mothers, is now made up of a much more mature, NPR - type audience, gay men, hipsters, and plenty of stars, including Gregory Peck's wife, Benjamin Bratt, and Laura Dern. Reports were that Natalie Maines' husband Adrian Pasdar had bought 400 tickets for stars and staff of his TV show, "Heroes," and two windows at the box office were devoted exclusively for "Adrian's Heroes" to pick up their tickets.

Although the show opened with an instrumental rendition of "Hail to the Chief," before launching into "Lubbock or Leave It" from Taking the Long Way, this was not a political show, outside the music, and with the exceptions of Natalie's fleeting references to "The Incident."

This was also not a show about theatrics, spectacle, or pyrotechnics. Production elements, although not sparse, were relatively simple, and did nothing to distract from the music. No flying over the audience, no costume changes, no magic acts. Likewise, Natalie spoke calmly and quietly between songs, but again - nothing to detract from the music.

Not surprisingly, "Not Ready to Make Nice," was the highlight of the show, performed with as much personal passion as ever, earning the Chicks a standing ovation and a full minute of thunderous applause. While the audience was clearly not as familiar with the music from Home, and even less so with the music from Fly (the title track was the only selection from Wide Open Spaces performed). Clearly, the folks in the audience were the type who had maybe one or two Chicks albums in their collections previous to Taking the Long Way (if you'll recall, there was certainly a time when, even if you weren't a fan of mainstream country, even if you weren't a fan of anything remotely country, it was cool to own a Chicks CD), but had never really appreciated the genius of the band until "The Incident."

Ironically, when songs from Fly are played right next to songs from Taking the Long Way, one realizes exactly how much times have changed for the Chicks. Not sure what I mean? Listen to "Some Days You Gotta Dance" from Fly, and then "Easy Silence" from Taking the Long Way. These are clearly not the girls who once wore pink feather boas to awards shows.

On the other hand, some lyrics from their previous albums prove to be erie forecasts of what was to come. There's a bittersweetness to the line "Room to make her big mistakes" that didn't previously exist in "Wide Open Spaces." Likewise, a certain sadness in their remake of Stevie Nicks' "Landslide." At the same time, a triumph when Natalie pumps her first when she sings, "You don't like the sound of the truth comin' from my mouth" in Patty Griffin's song, "Truth No. 2" from Home.

Although the Chicks' set lasted almost two hours, it was barely enough time to scratch the surface of their material. The course of their set included a new song inspired after they saw a rough cut of the documentary Shut Up and Sing (co-written by opener Pete Yorn), and their rendition of "Mississippi" makes me want to like Bob Dylan. On the other hand, I wouldn't have minded the aforementioned "You Were Mine," or Maria McKee's "Am I the Only One" (also from Spaces), or Radney Foster's "Godspeed (Sweet Dreams)," or "I'm Gonna Let Him Fly" or "Favorite Year" or "Voice Inside My Head" or...I could go on.

The Dixie Chicks may have traveled a hard road to get to this place, but it's been well worth the wait. In regards to "The Incident," Martie says, "It's the best thing to ever have happened to me."

It's the best thing to ever have happened to their fans, too.

Like his latest solo album You're Only Lonely Raul's set was very ballad-driven, showcasing the smooth purity of his voice, but occasionally feeling a little sleepy. It was the kind of show to attend with your significant other. Raul's set list included mostly stuff from You're Only Lonely (which is largely an album of covers), and a handful of Mavericks staples like "O What a Thrill", "Dance the Night Away," and "All You Ever Do Is Bring Me Down."

Not a show that'll get you all wound up, but a calm, lovely night of very romantic music.