My hat is off yet again to the Allman Brothers.  A little bird told me that 38 years ago today, the Allman Brothers laid down their tracks for the Live at Fillmore East album over a two day span.  Those boys rock man…I love their jazzy improv licks fused with solid southern rock.  I grew up listening to Allman Brother vinyls with Dad growing up as a young kid, and I will die with that same vinyl on my wall.  Here’s to you Duane Allman, Gregg Allman, Dickey Betts, Berry Oakley, Butch Trucks, and Jai Johanny “Jaimoe” Johnson…The original Allman Brothers.

To check out some footage from the live show…click here! “Whipping Post”

Go eat a peach man…

Billy

The Avett Brothers covering Springsteen’s “Glory Days”

enjoy.

Remember back in the days of portable cassette tape players, and, for myself at least, a weekly chore involving the cutting of the grass?  Yea, well you wanted a tape that you could listen to–in its entirety–to help pass the time.  You couldn’t skip to the next track and you sure didn’t want to fool with the damned thing to fast forward because you were too busy pushing the mower, which always had rusted, square wheels and your yard only ever went uphill.  And through anthills.  I know.  So what did we do?  Often times, mixed tapes were the answer, to where you could get lost in an entire album, where you enjoyed each song as much as the next and even looked forward to the finale, your favorite that you placed last on that side of the mix.

But occasionally, an album comes along and is flawless from beginning to end.  You take stock in each track and know every snare hit and can sing every solo; you just plain don’t want the thing to end.  This is a rare dinosaur, but they do exist.  Not only are they already roaming about, and have been since the golden days of music, but there are so many emerging artists of our current generation that have the potential to release their own masterpieces, or maybe already have.

To these, I dub the title “Lawnmower Tapes.”

Here is the first submission of many, where I stand so strongly about the entire composition of the album that it must get its own honorable mention.  And this one is not an obvious first submission.

The album is Act Natural, by Quiet Life.  A remarkable band heralding from Connecticut, Quiet Life relies on their tasteful collision of country twang and indie, garage-beating blues, and the result is pretty damn impressive.  Throw in an occasional soft-kissing banjo, a few well timed guitar howls, and a devil of a woman to sing about, and you’ve got this intoxicating symphony of whiskey soaked break-ups and romances.  The melodies are simple and memorable, the bass dives and dances, and the lyrics catchy.  So try this album, as it is truly a rare gem.  And let us not forget, this is their first and only album, so we can expect quite a run from these guys in the future.

Overall, Quiet Life has done something right with this one.

get it.

1. Trying to Get Home

2. Leah

3. Were You Singing

4. California

5. Every Dime

6. Did You Love Me

7. Sweet Smile

8. Head In the Clouds

9. Wedding Suit

10. Nighttime

11. Niantic Bay Blues

There already have been number of attempts to render the personalities of Bob Dylan to the silver screen, from hayden christiansen to richard gere to cate blanchett, and then some.  And we all know that many more folks will attempt future portrayals of this iconic song-and-dance-man.  Great, I really cannot wait.

But please consider Adam Sandler for the part.

With that free-flowing afro and stringy facial hair from his getup in the film Reign on Me, unkempt Sandler has unintentionally nailed the Bob look.  That is, without trying. Now, imagine professional make-up artists and stylists working to give him that Dylanesque appearance.  It works, I know.  Sandler is jewish, can sing and play guitar, acts, and absolutely loves the man.

I’m certainly not the first to point out the similarity, but I did notice it on my own.  And i’m sure others have as well.  It’s just plain obvious.

Now, for a Tom Waits bio pic.

It will happen.

With a personality as dark and dynamic as Dylan’s, a voice made of whiskey and gravel, and a posture as crooked as the hands of two-thirty, who could possibly attempt the recreation of Tom’s madness on the screen?  I mean, it would be best to just have the man himself head up the role, but let’s suppose that ain’t an option.

To make something of this magnitude happen, of course you will need ace writing and a director who’s not afraid to scare children.  Maybe something like Nightmare Before Christmas meets a circus freak show, wrapped in a salty layer of Bukowski, leaving the whole production drowning in morbidly playful, lonesome, and inebriated poetic ramblings.  And with riots, rampaging elephants, out-of-work carnies, sweaty burlesque shows, barfights and grave robbings, military drafts, air-raids, and disgruntled dishwashers and detectives.  It must have all of these.  It must be intoxicating.  But anyway, I digress.

Casting Waits would be a difficult enough of a task, and like I said, I would rather Waits play Waits.  But aside from that, I’ve decided on a few potential, albeit maybe not possible, but potential candidates for the role.

Heath Ledger:  I’m not jumping on the Ledger bandwagon, I’m just saying he could easily portray a young Waits.  He was a very talented actor with a wide range of styles and a knack for innovation.  His manifestation of madness has become an instant classic, and his interest in living his character for the sake of authenticity is admirable.

Then there’s Ron Perlman.

This one’s pretty spot-on.  Perlman is hard, has the bass in his throat, the jaw, and the ability to make any vice look heroic.  He can definitely portray a chain-smoking, sore and drunk old man, and get away with making him a role-model.  A pretty solid candidate for sure.

It’s easy to throw the role to Depp, cause it seems he can pretty much do anything and get it done right.  But I don’t like that choice.  We see him pretty much everywhere we look. And you see, you’ve got to have that right grumble.  The growl that you can’t train for, that comes from the inferno levels of the bowel, that can only exist by way of a hard-lived life.  As Waits said it himself,

“You know me, half drunk all the time, and all drunk all the rest…”

Here are some renditions, collaborations, live performances, and rare tracks of Waits himself,

The Ghost of Tom Waits

get the album here.

tracklist:
01 – Walk Away (Tom Waits & Southside Johnny With La Bamba’s Big Band)
02 – Way Down In The Hole
03 – Walking For Rotoscoping (Vignette)
04 – Skeleton At The Feast (Tom Waits Project)
05 – Little Pollyanna (Kristy Kruger)
06 – Spacious Thoughts (N.A.S.A.) (Tom Waits & Kool Keith)
07 – All The World Is Green
08 – The Ghost Of Tom Waits (Tom Waits & Rolling Stones)
09 – John The Miser (Tom Waits Project)
10 – Goin Out West (Cynthia Witthoft)
11 – Falling Down The Lane
12 – Anywhere I Lay My Head
13 – Tom Waits At The Barber
14 – If Tomorrow Comes (Tom Waits Project)
15 – Too Ruff (Sandy Dillon)
16 – Til The Money Runs Out
17 – Singapore
18 – When The Saints Go Marching In
19 – Valuta (Tom Waits Project)
20 – I’m A Bride (Monique Maion)
21 – It’s Alright With Me
22 – Come On Up To The House
23 – Do You Know What I Idi Amin (alternative take)
24 – Don’t Wait For Tom (Over The Rhine)
25 – Mr. Henry

The internet is kinda like a mine.. every once in a while, after much pining about, you stumble upon a priceless archived file which would make any music fan rejoice in it’s pure unequivocal awesomeness. Yesterday I struck pure gold when I found an obscure radio interview of a drunken but lighthearted Tom Waits from 1976.  He’s stowed away in a dingy New York studio rambling on the piano with a drummer, Ralph Elber, who is cautiously following Wait’s wondering mind with a snare and high hat.  The show has the same set-up as the Dylan “Folksinger’s Choice” interview (which most of you have already heard and is something I’ll save for a later post) where Tom is answering questions and playing at the same time. The telling interview is unrehearsed, unscripted, and absolutely brilliant. It captures Tom at a very unique point… he’s just starting to be recognized as a true musical visionary.

Though road worn and weary he has yet to truly start to crumble, he seems to be in a joyful and unrelenting mood, or he may just be feeling it (the liquor mainly).. either way it’ll make any fan dance around the room.  Doesn’t get much better than live Tom Waits. Enjoy… Nighthawks on the Radio!

Waits in New York.. The two hand in hand

Media Sound Studios, New York City NY, December 14, 1976

1. Emotional Weather Report

2. A Sight For Sore Eyes

3. Step Right Up

4. Eggs And Sausage (In A Cadillac With Susan Michelson)

5. Jitterbug Boy (Sharing a Curbstone With Chuck E. Weiss, Robert Marchese, Paul Body and The Mug and Artie)

6. Diamonds On My Windshield

7. San Diego Serenade

8. Tom Traubert’s Blues (Four Sheets To The Wind In Copenhagen)

9. New Coat Of Paint

10. The Piano Has Been Drinking (Not Me) (An Evening With Pete King)

11. I Can’t Wait To Get Off Work (And See My Baby On Montgomery Avenue)

Waits- Ohh you know… half drunk all the time, all drunk the rest

Me- I was that nine year old hindu boy

A while back I read an interviewer’s description of Tom (can’t recall from where or who, but I remember the quote well).. “Waits always comes across like a guy who’s got the blues so bad, he’s ready to sell his soul for another glass of whiskey”.          In-fucking-deed.

I wouldn’t have it any other way.. here’s one for Tom who, at least in my book,  after Johnny Cash passed away officially became the coolest motherfucker on the planet.

Doc Seuss lives!  Apparently, his spirit has not yet left this plane of existence but has manifested itself into the form of some Jewish boy from Minnesota, US.

Here we can clearly see Green Eggs and Ham as the cry for social revolution that it is:

Would you eat them in a box?
Would you eat them with a fox?
Not in a box not with a fox
Not in a house not with a mouse
I would not eat them here or there
I would not eat them anywhere

And that crazy folk escapade about overcoming prejudice, as seen the Lax:

Read more about musician Kevin Ryan and his hilarious Dylan Hears a Who.

This day commemorates one of the greatest if not the greatest rock and roll moments in history when The Beatles climbed on the roof of Apple headquarters on Savile Row in the middle of the London’s bustling business district and performed an impromptu final concert… The first third of the infamous rooftop concert is below, you can see part two here, the final part here, and if you’d like to have the full concert available for your music collection or ipod you can get it conveniently here.

It was only twenty days earlier that George officially decided he would permenantly leave the band (after the sessions) due many fustrating arguments about the direction of the music and other personal disagreements.  The band was officially getting too big for any of its members each with their own ego and seperate agenda.  Ten days after making the decision the band met agian, this time Harrison returned to the Let It Be sessions with keyboardist Billy Preston which aided to ease the tension within the group and stimulated a much happier and spirited musical athmosphere.

The Beatles knew they would not be together for at least the foreseeable future so they decided to play a final gig.  However since none wanted to return to a stage for their addoring drug infused shreking teenage girl fans nor did they want some kind of official “Last Waltz” they decided to perform live on the studio roof and bother the shit out of everyone with new material! For me the most enjoyable moments of the concert come when the police reach the roof top and the boys look around glancing back at them.  You then see George basically say fuck them by turning the amp up to eleven as the band rocks “Get Back” before they’re told to leave.

I could go on and on about this monumental rock moment in history but it’s getting late in the day and I’d rather go out and celebrate its anniversary with an ice cold brew or two.   “I hope we passed the audition”….. yea right.  And so it goes The Beatles disbanded.

Who is the Whistler Superior?

STORMCROW  VS  BIRD

Let me preface this by saying that I am indeed a Lord of the Rings nerd, and that I am okay with this condition.  And my girlfriend is okay with this condition.  And yes, I do have a girlfriend.  The most wonderful girlfriend in the whole world!

And I have often wondered about this.  But really, between Andrew Bird and Gandalf Stormcrow, who is the better whistler?

Gandalf can summon his steed from just about anywhere in Middle Earth with a simple whistle.  And he can send for an army of giant eagles to destroy your picnic or to protect you from flying dragon beasts.  Anytime he wants.  Advantage?

Then there’s Andrew Bird. He has released some of my favorite albums ever, from his jazzy The Swimming Hour to his Mysterious Production of Eggs to Fingerlings to the beautiful, old Irish folk album Music of Hair, and so on.  Simply beautiful stuff.  Along the way he has tamed many animals, from the violin, to guitar, piano, the xylophone and the glockenspiel and whirled them all up, all together and all at once into a symphony of sweetly chirping birds and a wild gnashing of teeth.  All by himself.

But have you heard him whistle?  He will stand feet away from the microphone and deliver a sound so beautifully serene, calming, but it swoons and swirls and smacks into your body with the force of a hurricane.  And he makes it look so easy.  Automatic.  Unnatural.  But what you hear is real, man.  And it is something else.

Once again, Bird grabs the reins and transforms his symphonic beasts into giants and drives them to be an amazing follow-up to his Armchair Apocrypha album.  So he’s back, and with a new song to whistle.  14 new songs.

Noble Beast

“Andrew Bird is a violin virtuoso steeped in early jazz and Celtic folk who announced himself as a top-shelf singer-songwriter with 2007’s Armchair Apocrypha. Here, he takes another leap, fusing Armchair’s emotive indie rock with the chamber-music experimentalism of his early recordings. “Masterswarm” mixes swirling strings with flamenco hand claps; “Effigy” stirs country fiddling and vocal harmonies into a gorgeous spaghetti-Western theme. But it’s Bird’s impressionistic lyrics that carry the emotional payload. “Nomenclature” is a sweet ballad that explodes unexpectedly. And on “Oh No,” he pledges solidarity with “harmless sociopaths” alongside his trademark whistling, making dysfunction sound as romantic as roses.”  -William Hermes, of Rolling Stone

try the album here.

So, who is the greatest whistler?   Trick question.

It’s the master of wood, water and hill, Tom Bombadil.

this album must be played LOUDLY, or the devil will get you.

simply amazing. greatest slide guitarist of our day, and possibly the greatest guitarist of our generation.

SEE THIS MAN LIVE.  live in concert, not live as in breathing and eating and stuff.

track list:

1. Down in the Flood

2. Something to Make You Happy

3. Maybe This Time

4. Sweet Inspiration

5. Don’t Miss Me

6. Get What You Deserve

7. Our Love

8. Down Don’t Bother Me

9. Days Is Almost Gone

10. Back Where I Started

11. I Know

12. Already Free

And yes, Down In the Flood is a very badass Dylan cover from everyone’s favorite, the Basement Tapes.

support this artist!

try the album here.

after his run with the truckers and a beautiful debut album, i can say that jason isbell’s next solo album is highly anticipated.  his 400 unit takes more responsibility this time around, and jason himself has mentioned that this next album is a complete band effort, not a mere lead-man with a backing-band performance.  with an obvious new direction, one that steers away from isbell’s lone spotlight and adds a little more weight to the talents of the band, what can we expect?  well, i’ve heard what they’ve got to say and i’ve heard their album.

it’s a good album; critics are going to love this one.   it has this whole slow, southern feel to it. like it was marinated in the tears of hank williams and slowly roasted over the coals of sherman’s burning south and chased with a cold mint julep.  folks are going to like this one, but i say, i say boy, it lacks a certain something.  while the lyrics, in the typical style of isbell draw on his take on war and heartbreak, its difficult to notice when one song ends and another begins. they really seem to wash together and come out, well, faded.  the parts that do stand out only do so because after you’ve allowed the slow repetition to dissolve into a mellow, humming background noise, the sudden loudness and crunchiness of the album’s rare guitar riffs wakes you up.  im not kidding.

there are so many attempts at long-winded ballads that isbell and his 400 have forgotten how to make their music enjoyable enough to listen to alone in your head, over and over, when they are stuck and you are just dying to whistle them out.  there aren’t many catchy hooks or building tempos that swell into a bursting crescendo of cops reruns, beer and fireworks like i had hoped, something that oozes all those glorious southern sensibilities that i am used to in isbell’s previous projects. and when there is a deep-fried guitar driven melody, it sounds like a progression rejected during his dance with the drive-by truckers.

i expected a little much, i suppose. but i do get the album; it’s supposed to move at the pace of a southern drawl, and it does.  and dont get me wrong, there is beautiful music here.  “no choice in the matter” is wonderfully written, and “soldiers get strange” has a guitar riff that sounds like it was written for sonic the hedgehog.  try it out. this album creates rainy days.

the album will be released feb. 17. or you can get it here.