I'm head over heels for these guys! Hot off their appearance on the Late Show With David Letterman last week, Vintage Trouble are burning up the Internets with their fabulosity. With stellar retro cool vocals and assertive presentation, how can you not want a little Trouble in your life? You get why, right? Even my 16 year-old son gets it. We spent the other day listening to The Bomb Shelter Sessions for a few hours and my kid says, "the singer's voice sound familiar. Why is that?" After thinking it over and running through my artist playlist, it dawned on me: Ty
Recently in Two-Fer Tuesday
Rhythm & Blues with verve and soul
Revisiting a favorite, I discover a great surprise from The Mavericks
Back in the '90s, I was transitioning from San Diego girl to Denver girl, from country back to blues and rock, from just a single gal to oh-my-God-I'm-a-mom; it seemed there was always something coming at me and I did what I've always done when life overwhelmed me: I dove deeper into music. One of my favorite bands from that time was The Mavericks. They were country. They were rock. They were a little bit of everything that scratched all my musical itches. I didn't have to make mix tapes or buy a bunch of CDs by other artists as
Ian Britt is my new Neil Finn this week
The blues never sounded so good
Chris Cain, one of the Bay Area's greatest treasures, recently played a show here in Vegas and blew the doors off the joint. Cain is as nuanced a player as you'll ever meet. There's so much power in each note, he makes shredders look like fools. There are no limits to what Cain can do with a guitar. He plays it all, from hard rockin' to slow burnin' blues, jazz, you name it. He's as sly as can be, making your heart break one minute, and then callin' you out with your boogie shoes the next. Taking the stage
More than a "Lonely Boy"
Last Friday, the music world lost the man responsible for the song we all sang along with whenever The Golden Girls came on -- Andrew Gold. Back in 1977, Gold had a minor hit with "Lonely Boy," a song I loved to hear whenever it popped up on the radio, which it did often since it reached #7 on the charts. And the following year, he released "Thank You For Being A Friend" -- the song that would later be sung by someone else and become firmly associated with those brassy, sassy broads on a sitcom. Me? I always remembered the Andrew
It's my party and I'll play what I want. And I want Rod Stewart!
The rumors are true. By tomorrow, I will be old. But I've decided I'm going to take a page out of Rod the Mod's playbook and not let that stop me. I'm sure that makes no sense to you, but living in Sin City, where everyone is (pardon the pun) forever young, it's not easy to watch those years tick up. Rod Stewart, however, has never seemed to age. The man's 66 years old and he's still rockin'. In fact, he's set to take up a residency at Caesar's Palace in August, playing everything from his early blues on up
Crazy visions swim in my head as I await the gradual absorption of heavy meds. My musical needs are many and make no sense, not even to this uneasy mind.
Between waiting for medication to work its way through my system and all the side effects to come to some sort of sensible level, I'm a wreck. Not ideal living conditions, but it sure as hell makes for intriguing musical choices. My mind wanders. My heart wants what it wants -- even if what it wants is Pink singing Led Zep, or James Brown & Pavarotti teaming up for a song. And here we are. And our little bonus:
Can someone please come smack me out of this insane loop I'm in?
Most parents look at their teens with dismay and consider their taste in music to be utterly lacking in sophistication and nuance. I'm not one of those parents. In fact, I dare say my 14-year-old son has better taste in music than many adults I know. He's also a little... odd. He began singing to me the other night; songs I grew up listening to; songs I've loved. Which was all well and good, except that he sang them to me...as Sean Connery. Yes, Bond. James Bond. Sean Connery. Honestly, it was hysterical. But it caused me to re-examine exactly what
Everything's Better With a Little Vedder
I will readily confess I was not a Pearl Jam fan back in the day. It wasn't that I thought they were horrible or anything, I just wasn't interested. The timing was bad. I was deep in my country phase, about to embark on motherhood... stuff that doesn't lend itself easily to jumping on the PJ train, you know? But that doesn't mean I wasn't aware of them or that some of Eddie Vedder's charm was lost on me. Quite the contrary. I knew, but I tiptoed away gingerly. Cut to today (I was going to say "twenty years later"
Like a fleeting dream, the fever took me away to another place, a place where J.J. Grey and Mofro danced for me.
I don't do "sick" well. Lord knows I have had enough practice in my lifetime, but somehow I've never really mastered the art of recovering from illness in an artful manner. I always wanted to be the sort who could lie about and gracefully sip from fragile teacups while those who love me look on with concern. Yeah, never happened anywhere but in a novel from the likes of Austen or Alcott and my life has never looked like anything from one of their books. Instead, I tend to curl up wherever I feel least uncomfortable and pray a stereo
Following the long-awaited Tower of Power concert, I was reduced to giddy fan girl and met almost the whole band. Here are a few of my favorite songs...
Larry Braggs has an amazing voice and he leads Tower of Power ably to the edge, dangles them before us, and then returns us all to safety. Emilio Castillo, the actual leader of the band, is just as impressive vocally, and he's a dangerous man. Yes, indeed, he is. He riles the crowd up, gets us dancing, dancing along with us, and then tears it all away like a man possessed! Just like that, we have nothing. Except that we do. We have more music! And we have memories. Ha! Tower of Power took the stage at South Point Resort
Some songs transport you to a time and place deep within your memory bank. Other songs just take you on an out of body experience, returning you to the now only when you're fully cleansed.
My fellow BBS writer, Josh, shared his "let me lose myself" song the other day and it was a wonderful choice for many reasons. I love Shelby Lynne. Always have. But when I want to get lost, when I need to escape, when I need to cleanse my soul of all the travails of this world, I need to look no further than one beautiful and heartwrenching song from the one man I would likely stalk if given the chance (also if I weren't lazy about such things) and if I were in Italy: Adelmo Fornaciari, henceforth known by his sweeter
Since the day that Nanny came to stay with us, we've wondered who wrote the theme song and what else they might have been responsible for.
For those of you unfamiliar with my quaint little "Two-fer Tuesday" series on previous blogs, let me assure you I will never write extensively on the music, instead preferring to let the music speak for itself. Except sometimes. Sometimes there is a story, or ten, to tell. Sometimes the story holds the presented clips together. Other times it's simply my way of explaining why it matters to me. But mostly, I will try not to write endless paragraphs and I will try more to present you with two, three, four, five, or even eight videos that appeal to me come