A saxophone someplace far off played
Overheard (coming out of mine and other nearby mouths) at a tavern in Brooklyn:
Robert Baird
The Download Waltz
I had a nice chat recently with Mark Berry, publicist for classical music’s Naxos label. Naxos, for those unfamiliar, is a label with one hell of a back story.
Achin' To Be
It's always bugged me. And now I have just the blog to spew about it in.
And the Academy Award Goes To
In the world of dino rock, several really interesting tidbits today. For some unknown reason (I'm betting the right blend of meds), Brian Wilson did not push Mike Love off the roof of the Capitol Tower in L.A. when the three surviving Beach Boys met up there on Monday to get a framed metal-coated record signifying that their latest greatest hits compilation had turned the sales odometer over to 2x platinum.
Super Bad
James Brown at B.B. Kings in New York on Friday night. Big semi-crazed shows, what they used to call revues, like the one Brown brought to town are fast becoming a lost art. The band featured three horns, three drummers, four female backup singers called Bittersweet (two black, two white) and four guitar players all of whom were killer and all of whom played in widely diverse styles.
Chicks On Top
The Chicks' victory is nearly complete.
An Amoeba Shrinking?
Much as I hate to admit it, the experience of going into a record store, particularly a big glorious mom and pop indie store, is fast becoming a thing of the past.
Big Mac
The measure of a champion is how he performs under pressure and on Saturday night at HE 2006, Dr. John (Mac Rebennack), despite a nasty running head cold, gave us some vintage Mac.
The joys of cooking
I often joke that when I expire and migrate to the lower rings of hell, I'll find nothing else in my eternity than white blues bands playing "Mustang Sally" over and over and over again. But now I may have found another possibility for the soundtrack to my infernal reward.