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I'm madly packing the remainder of my worldly possessions, but I paused long enough to record this update for you:
CIMG1181_xvid from http://krissy.vox.com/
The movers will be here tomorrow at 9am!!
Red Shirt Woman drove us to drink. Not literally.
** The accidents my car has been in were not my fault. I swear.
One day last week I woke up with a song in my head and I didn't know who it was by. Which meant I had to research it and then tell you about it.
It started with the chorus "It's gonna take a lotta love..." streaming through my head immediately upon waking. Google told me that "Lotta Love" was sung by Nicolette Larson, no one you or I have ever heard of (correction, reader Chris says she's a known entity. Sorry, Chris). Yes, it's a cover of Neil Young's original, but hers was the version that was inexplicably stuck in my head.
And of course, YouTube has the video! In this one, Nicolette is rocking a, um, natural personal style -- somewhat of a cross between Crystal Gayle and a woman that might be rescued from a cult's compound in the middle of Texas. She's young and pretty and slightly unkempt, and therefore a perfect candidate for a makeover. The flute solo in this song kills me:
I noticed there was a "live" version of the song (hint: it's not live) on YouTube as well. Here, the makeover dream has come true, and she has upgraded the hired guns in her band as well. The flute/sax player looks like a member of Kajagoogoo, which I suppose was a good thing at the time.
Nicolette had a nice career as a backing vocalist in the '70s and '80s, working with Emmylou, Willie Nelson, The Doobie Brothers, Jimmy Buffett and many more. According to Wikipedia, she was nominated for a GRAMMY for Best New Artist in 1979. Sadly, Nicolette passed away in December 1997, but she left a nice legacy behind.
So as not to end this post on a sad note, and to give me any excuse to talk about Heart, here's a bonus video featuring a killer flute solo. Ann breaks into a staggering, jazzy flute solo about two minutes in. The stage wear in this video is also a sight to behold, especially the corset/vest thing worn by the bass player. Stay tuned to four minutes in when Roger plays his electric guitar with a violin bow.
This past Saturday was National Record Store Day. I woke up to a forecast of 85 degrees in Austin, so I put on my favorite green sundress and set out to buy some records.
The Chronicle had posted a full page ad with every participating record store, 12 in all, but I only ended up making it to three of them. After I stopped by the Sunset Valley Farmers Market, I made my first stop at End of an Ear. I've blogged about this store before, so I already knew they'd have a good selection of indie vinyl and small but well-curated selections of older records. It was really nice to see more than three people in the store. In fact, all the stores I went to seemed to be benefiting from increased traffic.
At End of an Ear I picked up St. Vincent's Marry Me (of course I've had the CD and mp3s since the get-go, but it's such a great album I wanted the vinyl version too) and Bob Dylan's Hard Rain which caught my eye because he looks so dreamy on the cover. I tell you, eyeliner on certain men, at certain times. Seriously.
And I bought Shirley Bassey's How About You? partly because she looks so fierce on the cover.
Whatever she was singing about, I was prepared to listen. I hope to someday have something happen to me that makes me want to strike that same pose. I've already told you about the other purchase I made at End of an Ear, which, I'll admit, came close to making me strike the Shirley Bassey pose in the middle of the store.
Next stop was Friends of Sound Records which I'd never been to before. The Chronicle's big pull out map was a little misleading, plus it was just listed as "in the alley" off South Congress. It took me a while to finally find it tucked back behind a row of buildings, around the corner and at the top of a concrete ramp. The fact that I actually spent about ten seconds wondering if I was trespassing was not a good sign.
Once I found the place, it was small and set up a bit awkwardly, with the record bins feeling just slightly too narrow for the actual records, so that I ended up shuffling through the albums at a weird angle. If ever I were to open my own record store, I would make the record bins tall so that you didn't have to bend over to look at them, and wide enough to allow for quick shuffling, and - most importantly - I wouldn't overstuff the bins so as to prevent people from actually being able to look through the records.
At Friends of Sound I picked up a copy of Rahsaan Roland Kirk's Blacknuss which contains his cover of Bill Withers' "Ain't No Sunshine" (read my previous posts about Withers and Kirk) and also a random jazz record by Cal Tjader called San Francisco Moods. Each song is named after a San Francisco landmark ("Sigmund Stern Groove", "Grant Avenue Suite") but having never heard of Tjader I wasn't sure if it was worth the asking price. Once I discovered it was pressed on red vinyl and released in 1958 (according to the guy at the counter) I decided to take a chance.
I was heading home after Friends of Sound, when, driving north on Lamar, I saw the sign for Emerald Press Coffee. I'd stopped by there earlier in the week to try out their drive-thru service and had gotten a pretty tasty soy latte, so I decided to park this time and try out their iced soy latte. As they were making my order, Ben behind the counter engaged me in a friendly chat and we ended up talking about records. I told him what I'd bought and we talked about turntables, although he uses his to DJ and likes house music, which isn't my cup of tea. Then he served me the second best coffee beverage I have ever tasted:
Best Coffee Beverages Of All Time
I've been back there almost every single day since to order the same thing. They even wrapped my drink with a silk rose one day. I love that place.
Since Cheapo Discs (not to be confused with Austin's beloved Chepo) is just across the street from Emerald City, I made it my third and final stop. There, I picked up Joni Mitchell's Mingus, Cyndi Lauper's She's So Unusual, Best of the Doobie Brothers, Rachmaninoff: Symphony No. 1 by the Philadelphia Orchestra. The Doobie Brothers have so many good songs -- and Michael McDonald to boot:
Young Michael McDonald makes my heart stop. So handsome, and that voice! I'll leave you with this snippet, because, really, young Michael deserves his own post.
About a year ago I was looking around on MySpace, probably doing some research for a music post on SFist, when I came across a mesmerizing photo of a chihuahua wearing a wig. I didn't know the person who I stole the photo from, but I immediately downloaded it, resized it and created a userpic out of it. I used this as my photo on instant messenger and a few other places. "Dogwig", as I came to call him, got a fair bit of exposure and several compliments whenever I posted to LiveJournal news. I really came to love the little stranger.
Fast forward to last weekend, when I was hitting a few record stores in honor of National Record Store Day. I was browsing around End of an Ear when the tiny painting caught my eye. Here's how tiny it is:
Next to the group of paintings on the wall there was an index card with the artist's name and number on it, so I called Kesey and asked him how much he wanted for it. "Oh, those have been up there for a few months, I kind of forgot they were there. I remember that painting though - my friend I play soccer with, that's his dog. I've never actually sold anything, um, I guess just leave twenty bucks at the counter?"
Done and done!
I thanked Kesey profusely, left thirty bucks for him, and walked out of the store with a couple of records and the second most thrilling piece of art I have ever purchased.
The most thrilling piece of art I've ever purchased? The artwork I specially commissioned last fall for the banner of this blog, by one of my favorite artists, Marc Johns. This scan doesn't do it justice, but I'm including it for those of you viewing this post from your feed reader:
There is something I really admire about artists and creators who just keep doing what they do, despite success, failure, trials or trends. It takes an impressive fortitude to soldier on and not be afraid to suck or repeat yourself, to muscle through any downturns in inspiration.
Of course, some artists are just charmed with a level of talent and inspiration that matches their work ethic. Tom Petty is one of those artists who has consistently churned out amazing music for decades, continuing to write, record and tour when he could be just resting on his royalties. When I heard he was getting his old band back together, Mudcrutch, my immediate thought was that he's doing it for the sheer fun of it, not for the glory or profit or even by popular demand. It's more because they wanted to, they can, and people are interested. It helps that Mudcrutch also includes Mike Campbell and Benmont Tench, two legendary members of The Heartbreakers.
But it kind of blew my mind when I read that Mudcrutch will release their only official full length album next week, 38 years after they formed in 1970. Holy mackerel, it really is never too late, huh?
Thanks to aa I've heard six songs and they're the type of wise, simple, southern rock that Petty's been known for since the very beginning. A few of the songs are from the old days, but many were written after the band reunited to rehearse and record last year. According to this great article in EW, they insisted on all live takes and no overdubs in the studio. Tench was quoted in the article as saying:
"There was no intellectualizing going on here, and not a lot of editing on this project. The only rule was, we're gonna set up in the rehearsal room and everything will be live takes — including vocals and solos. That was our only rule.''
Back to basics, flexing your chops, not relying on a formula -- cheers to that! (It almost sounds a little like whomping.)
Mudcrutch played two shows at The Fillmore this week and I'm crushed to have missed both of them. Here's a quick clip from an audience member at one of the Fillmore shows. I'm loving Tom's beard and his cowboy shirt:
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