Before the internet, people used to buy their music at good old-fashioned record stores. Actually, some of us weirdos still do. Now we have our own little holiday. Check out the Official Record Store Day website (or click on the magic logo above) for more information.
Social Distortion - Hard Times and Nursery Rhymes. The first time I heard the gospel/southern rock style background vocals on "California Hustle and Flow," I laughed out loud. I like it. S.D. could easily coast on formula and get away with it, but I like the new twists and surprises that pop up here and there. Not everything works for me, but enough works to keep me listening.
Meat Puppets - Lollypop. It sounds a lot like the album before it but it works for me. Nothing really groundbreaking here, but a good cross between catchy and surreal.
Brian Setzer - Goes Instru-mental. It's about time he made an instrumental album. I believe I suggested this idea in one of my reviews many years ago. I'd like to think that Mr. Setzer was inspired by looking through the Barflies archives. This is not your typical guitar show-off album. He also shows off his impressive banjo skills. However, it is not a 100% instrumental album, it sounds like he gave into pressure from the wife to let her vocalize on a couple of songs. I guess keeping the domestic peace is sometimes more important than maintaining artistic integrity.
Nick Lowe - The Old Magic. This is nothing like his old power-pop stuff, but he's still pretty darn clever. I really like the low-key horn arrangements and his loungey crooning.
The Beach Boys - Smile. Okay, I know it was recorded forty-some years ago but it finally came out as a complete work in 2011. This was available in a zillion-dollar box set with a bunch of bells and whistles, but my level of geekiness was satiated by the simple two-disc set. There may or may not be a theme or storyline to follow in this "concept" album, but you might be better off (I know I am) by just enjoying the sound of it.
Best Yard Sale Score:
Elvis Presley - Roustabout. I gladly paid a buck for this. Elvis snobs who frown on his soundtrack albums have never heard such great songs as "Poison Ivy League" or "Carny Town."
Worst Thrift Store Score:
Gun Club - The Las Vegas Story. Not that this album is especially bad - it's probably not their best - but my problem has to do with warpage. To correct a slight-to-moderate warp in the record, I tried the old "putting it in the sun between two panes of glass" trick. I've had varying levels of success with this before, but never in 100 degree New Mexico heat. The poor record ended up looking like great-grandma's antique ribbon candy. Oops.
Fashion Trend to Watch For in 2012:
Prosthetic Overbites.
The world still isn't ready for unibrow toupees.
Happy Holidays!
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I guess Journey had it wrong.
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Randy Rogers (of the Randy Rogers Band) at last night's sold-out show at the Troubadour. Reckless Kelly co-headlined, and Micky and the Motorcars opened, making for a solid four and a half hours of Texas country goodness.
RRB and RK will continue their tour through California this weekend, with stops in Bakersfield and San Luis Obispo, both of which I will also be attending. Livers of Steel indeed.
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I was in Phoenix, AZ last weekend. I hadn't been there in a long time. When did The Valley of the Sun get annexed by California? I'm not saying it's good or bad, I'm just saying it.
Close to half-gentrified and half-demolished downtown Phoenix, I was pleased to find Revolver Records - a happy haven of vinyl geekdom. It looked, felt, sounded, and smelled exactly like a record store should. I was also pleased to observe that the store appeared to be thriving - not just with the old weirdos crawling on the floor to peruse the boxes of albums that were tucked into every nook and cranny of the room, but also with younger folks who still care enough about life to practice personal hygiene. I limited my shopping to the upper racks and bought some mid-priced classic-rock comfort food by the likes of John Lennon, the Who, and the second Generation X album that I used to have but lost over time. I've been playing it safe and boring for a while, but the store does stock plenty of the newer stuff that all the hipsters dig. Revolver claims to have over 25,000 records in stock and that looks about right, although most of them have been relegated to the $1.00 boxes on the floor. I didn't want to bother with those because I knew I would end up buying a bunch of crap, but I was forced to. There was a dry-erase board by the front counter with a rock trivia question written on it. The prize for the correct answer was a free $1.00 record. Long story short, I selected a rode-hard-and-put-away-wet copy of "Elvis Sings 'Burning Love' and Hits From His Movies."
Alice Cooperstown is a rock-themed sports bar and restaurant in downtown Phoenix. Yes, it is owned by Alice Cooper and yes, I had to go there. I had no problem with the "Welcome to My Nightmare" chili, which I found quite delicious, but I did have problems with some of the rock memorabilia on display. For example, there was an autographed white Fender Telecaster in a glass case with a plaque stating that it was Jeff Beck's guitar, but if you looked closely at the signature, it looked like "Billy Joel." Another issue was the memorabilia near our table, which were record company certificates commemorating sales or radio play of the dippy Alice Cooper ballads "You and Me" and "I Never Cry" instead of REAL Alice Cooper songs like "School's Out" or "No More Mr. Nice Guy." Other than that, I liked it.
ABQ Record Store Update: I finally made it to Mecca Records. I read some online reviews that said the clerks were rude and condescending. However, I found the clerk to be pleasant and polite. I'll probably go back anyway.
Correction: In a previous posting, I referred to a store called "I Buy Music." The correct name of the store is "We Buy Music." I still don't think it's a very good name.
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Matador On Velvet, artist and date unknown
I paid 76 cents for this beauty. One ruthless art critic (my wife) described it as "hideous" and suggested that it would look much better on the wall of my den/studio/man-cave than it would in our living room.
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Following the demise of Cross Canadian Ragweed, lead singer Cody Canada formed a new incarnation of Oklahoma music with a band called The Departed, featuring his brother-in-law and former CCR bassist Jeremy Plato, guitarist Seth James, drummer Dave Bowen, and Steve Littleton on organ keys. They made their California debut at the Mint last night, to an enthusiastic, if small, audience, and even though it's hard to see in the picture, Cody Canada is sporting a magnificent new Wonder Beard.
(And by the way, Seth James' guitar playing is PERFECT. Just. Perfect.)
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When I was a kid, my dad would occasionally drag my brother and me to a train museum out in the middle of the desert. Next to the train museum was the saddest zoo in the world. The only thing I remember about the zoo was an old disease-ridden monkey in a cage. Next the monkey's cage was gumball-type vending machine that dispensed "monkey food" (suspiciously like dried dog chow) for a nickel. After getting our nickel's worth, we would throw some food in the cage and the monkey would squeal and scramble for it. Years later, while attending a Bob Dylan concert together in the Livestock Exhibition Hall at the Red Bluff, CA Fairgrounds, my brother and I both recalled that childhood memory. We anticipated the Bob Dylan show would be like the sad monkey we remembered from the train museum zoo - you put a nickel in the machine, it dispenses some monkey food (or a cigarette) to throw in Bob Dylan's cage, and he would respond by singing a song.
We were wrong. Bob Dylan has made a career out of defying expectations. Bob Dylan does not eat monkey food.
When Dylan's recent Albuquerque appearance was announced, I wasn't really interested, but as the date approached my interest grew. Finally, the day before the show, I broke down and bought the cheapest ticket in the house. Upon entry at the venue, I was given a free upgrade due to low ticket sales. I ended up not sitting in either place because there were enough empty seats for me to see the show from several different vantage points. I eventually ended up in about the third row. The only drawback to this prime location was a 70-ish woman who kept shouting "I love you, Bob!" That woman may or may not have been Joan Baez.
This was not a young crowd. In order to buy beer, you needed two forms of ID - a license and an AARP card (rim shot!). Not only that, but the bartenders would also check your file for possible interactions with your medication (rim shot! cymbal crash!).
You can tell that many people attend Bob Dylan shows to merely pay homage to what he used to be rather than to appreciate the artist that he is now. Many observers expecting a greatest hits revue are left dumbfounded. Dylan's voice is not much more than a hoarse croak these days, but he makes the most of it with masterful phrasing worthy of the smarmiest lounge singer. Here how the songs usually go: the band will launch into a loose-but-tight bluesy, jazzy jam based on some vaguely familiar riff and then Dylan will jump in at some seemingly random point. After a key line or a chorus, audience members will finally recognize the song and start applauding. Some will attempt to sing along before becoming hopelessly lost and giving up. Call it what you want, I call it damned fine entertainment. Bob Dylan's demented Southern Colonel suit, with white hat and shoes, was merely the icing on the cake.
Dylan didn't play much guitar. He spent most of the time either behind a keyboard or stepping out front - sans axe - to bleat with his voice or harmonica. Center stage was usually occupied by the still-handsome guitar whiz and former teen idol Charlie Sexton. It was nice of Bob to provide some eye candy for the ladies - all twelve of them.
It may be my imagination, but during Bob Dylan's harmonica solo in "Forever Young," it sounded like he was playing that horrible "Sing It Out Loud" song from that Heineken commercial. Side effects may include...
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Just a few years ago, Josh Abbott was learning how to play the guitar. Earlier this month, he played to 15,000 fans in Austin, all of whom knew every word to his single, "Oh, Tonight." Last night, he brought his Texas goodness to the Viper Room in Los Angeles. After obsessing over his music for over a year, it was a treat to finally see him in action.
Sandy displays his super-power of staying cool in 100 degree weather.
Things were going well until someone spiked the lighting guy's drink with elephant tranquilizer.
Most photos by Julie
Jason Isbell at the Troubadour earlier tonight. Formerly of the Drive-By Truckers, Jason's new band is the 400 Unit, which is named in honor of a psychiatric ward in a Florence, Alabama hospital. Perhaps that's why they closed the show with a cover of Talking Heads' "Psychokiller."
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Notice the hands over the ears - it's good to know that rock and roll can still offend. The cliche "If it's too loud, you're too old" is too obvious here. What comes to my mind is "Why did you sit so close?" or "Why not give your seats to the rockabilly hot rod guys at the beer stand that want it to be louder?"
Phil Alvin displays his famous grimace as he is eaten by a giant electric cactus.
The duck pond is very effective at discouraging stage dives.
Before the show, the cactus lies in wait, ready to strike.
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Nick 13 at the second of two sold-out shows at the Troubadour this weekend in celebration of his solo country album. He's on tour now, but you can see Tiger Army at the Orange County Fair on Saturday, July 30th.
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