Here's an article in today's NYT with Pat Metheny. I like the format of this interview. The goal here is not to create a list of Metheny's favorite songs and musicians. Instead the pair (interviewer and musician) talk about music. Wow. What a novel idea.
Speaking of studios, no one told me that Muscle Shoals Sound Studio had closed down.
The recording session this weekend went great. 10 songs in a day — a new land speed record for the Boondogs.
Track Listing:
Track Listing:
Since us Boondogs aren't distributing any flyers for our musical engagement tonight at White Water Tavern, I thought I'd share the handbill the singer for the Applescruffs made. Now if you would like to obtain one of these flyers, you need to go to Leo's and just happen to look on that shelf to the right of the cash register. No. Down and to the right. Just about at knee level. Right there, behind the stack of Redbook magazines, and don't be distracted by the baklava in the display case to the left! Keep looking... there's a little clear plastic box. Voila! Flyers. As you can see, I've been carrying mine around in my pocket for awhile. Anyway, sincere thank yous to the Applescruffs for promoting the show. It will be fun. See you tonight!
USA TODAY covers podcasting.
I guess its time to update those old RSS feeds.
Session notes for The Farmer:
Harrison — vocals, wind-up bird, shimmering flute
Dada — loops
Recorded on Sunday, 2/6/2005 (a cold and rainy afternoon). After vocals and initial tracks were laid, Harrison suggested that the song needed "woodwinds". We both agreed his third take on the keyboard was the keeper (by that time the novelty of holding down several keys at once had worn off).
Music for and inspired by the drawing "The Farm" © Harrison (see previous entry).
So look over there. No, over there, right above the calendar. Not the most beautiful creature but hey, it works...
Kind of. Its not showing up in IE. So if you're using IE, you won't see anything new in the Red Chuck links bar, but if you're using Safari or Firefox, its party time!
First, a big thanks to the Gurus Network tutorial. Lots and lots of code but it's all well explained. Also I found Steve's "Flash MX MP3 Player" tutorial discussion thread extremely helpful, especially Brian's post on page 9 concerning Movable Type.
Really the only major obstacle (other than IE) that I encountered was getting the player to successfully load the mp3s from xml. Somehow a directory change made that work.
Of course I'm writing all this without checking the site from outside this LAN. I'll probably go home and find that none of this is working at all.
So now I just gotta fill it up with moods. And in case you were wondering, The Kung Pao Groove is the most recent Garageband dish.
I don't know what it is about this Arthur Russell compilation that has me so entranced. Maybe its because his instrumentation is so unusual (drum machine, distorted cello, and voice). He's been described as a mix between Nick Drake and New Order but this doesn't do him justice. Why? Because Nick Drake never sounded so damn catchy and New Order never sounded so incredibly haunting. Given those hints, I guess you'd call this sorrowful dance music. Need a genre? How about early IDM. Whatever. It's good.
Here's a couple articles from the Village Voice and the New Yorker. Obviously from these sources you can tell this guy was a lower Manhattanite. So chalk up another point for the Big Apple. A dead NYC songwriter is now mayor of my iPod.

So these guys didn't get the memo about not spending money on Inauguaration Day but maybe they've got a better idea. Anyone feel like playing a show next Thursday?
I forgot all about this little ditty. It popped up in iTunes over the holidays and the kids started dancing. So it must be good for something. I'd describe it as attention deficit disorder disco jazz fusion with some cable TV sound bites sprinkled on top. And what would a Red Chuck instrumental be without some Fuzz Probe? So without further ado, here's "If The Shoe Fits, Bad Weather May Follow".

Word is, Isaac and Rob have a new song for us to learn before the big show tonight.
This has got to be the worst Christmas message I have ever received. This comes from an old friend of mine in SC. He called at 9 in the morning on Dec 24th. Yow. That must have been one hell of a party. Anyway, let me say first off, he is not a redneck. Low country, yes. Redneck, no, but given enough refreshments, it seems... well, you be the judge.
Of course, I used Garageband to record this off the phone. So then I had to put an out of tune guitar loop and some amp noise underneath it to make things a little more colorful. Enjoy.
Breezing through the NYT list of Grammy nominees this morning I was pleased to see the following nominations.

The NME is reporting that the kids that sang the chorus on Pink Floyd's "Another Brick in the Wall" want their royalty checks.
Which reminds me, when did the practice of paying performance royalties end anyway? Wasn't it sometime in the 70s? And didn't Elton John have something to do with it?
At long last, this revealing interview with "the clarion call of rock 'n' roll's everlasting triumph" has appeared!
Speaking of great playlists, I've been listening to WXYC religiously for the past two days. This was one of my favorite college radio stations when I used to live in good old North Carolina. I had no idea they have been broadcasting over the internet for 10 years! Wow. They just launched live playlists which is also very cool. I also like their take on FreeForm Radio. Way to go guys and Happy 10th. Here's to ten more years of great independent music.
Have you heard the new U2 EP? It rawks! I'm so glad they didn't record any overwrought ballads this time around.
6 inspired songs. A lean mean fighting machine. U2 jam econo and its about time. Nothing but hits on this lil' sucker. Nothing but hits.
Ahem. It's called playlisting boys. And it works wonders.
Elliot Smith, From A Basement On The Hill: A-. The White Album it ain't. But we don't really need another White Album.
Arcade Fire, Funeral: B. Grim. Very grim. (Check the title.) Maybe because I'm old. And to the Arcade Fire I am probably very old. I dig the Gang of Four folk-ness, the hypochondriac's disco grooves, but, and unfortunately, not the songs.
So who's got my Saharan nomads cd?
"The Knitting Factory along with H.O.P.E. (Horrified Observers of Pedestrian Entertainment) are offering the good people of America who have been duped into buying Ashlee Simpson's CD a reprieve; the opportunity to turn in her CD for one of a higher entertainment quality. Just bring your Ashlee Simpson CD down to the Knitting Factory Box Office between 10 and 5 PM Mon thru Sat and get one by the likes of Elvis Costello, The Ramones, X, Jimmy Page and Robert Plant, Aretha Franklin, Mr. Bungle, Ray Charles, Abe Lincoln Story, Grateful Dead, Neil Hamburger, Joni Mitchell, and Brian Wilson... "
I guess these guys haven't read the recent Ashlee Simpson appreciation piece in the Village Voice. Don't they know that Ashlee Simpson's debut Autobiography has "Fruit Stripe bubblegrunge guitars and insanely chewy melodies and an ear-tickling production job".
Mmmmm Fruit Stripe bubblegrunge guitars.
Remember that no man loses any other life than this which he now lives, nor lives any other than this which he now loses. by texas hold'em poker

Here's another link today to the NYT, this time because they are profiling Autolux.
And here are links to Autolux's self pronounced influences:

Do you play guitar? Do you like effects processing? Do you have a messianic complex? Well then, this is for you.
Did you know that in the last months of his life, Johnny Cash regularly took communion with Rick Rubin? Yep. Cash acted as priest and administered the sacrament. This comes from a great article by David Kamp in last month's Vanity Fair. Unfortunately those greedy CondeNast people won't publish the article online so you'll have to pickup an issue at the newstand. Its a good read. Kamp approaches Rubin and Cash's friendship with a great deal of respect, unlike some people. Thankfully there are other readers out there. And believe you me, if Johnny Cash was alive today and officiating anywhere within a 5 hour drive...
So I was thinking about putting together a "Notta Nutha' 4 Years" playlist. Seemed like a good idea. As usual I've been turning to my music library for consolation. But 1) I have zero time for such a cataloging endeavor and 2) I started to think it was very BLG.
And who needs playlists when we've got prophets like Greg Sage. The first 7 songs of the Wipers' debut , Is This Real? cover the wide range of emotions I've been experiencing this week.
Here's my bafflement, anger, frustration, despair, and horror played out by some Portland, OR punks circa 1980. And really what could be a better shock-and-horror-that-so-many-turned-out-to-vote-for-this-creep tune than Return Of The Rat anyway? So everybody sing along:
You better watch out
You better beware
They're coming from all sides of the country
You better beware
Return of the rat
No, no, no, no!
Once again, you can purchase aforementioned platter of tuneful angst here.
I haven't heard or even thought of this song in a long long time. It popped into my head about an hour ago and won't stop going. In high school I thought it was cool cuz it name-checked the Minutemen and Black Flag. Today it's chillingly appropriate. Especially the way the list of political/ethical/global crimes snow ball into a chorus that oh so cleverly challenges American political/ethical/global torpor. X we need you again!
And don't forget to buy the album.

Consider this a warning: we practised last night.

This is a big week for music in Little Rock. Tonight American Music Club and The Court and Spark are at Sticky Fingerz. Friday Mulehead plays its final show at White Water Tavern. Saturday The Easys get lost at the Living Room. But the big big show has got to be Mini Kiss at the Uptown Tavern. The semantic mirroring going on here is astounding enough for me. (Coupling the words Mini Kiss with the words Little Rock portends a doubling of each constituent's powers, don't you think?) But I feel as a true lover of rock in all its shapes and sizes, I need to attend this show. Sorrry Mulehead. I'll try to catch your show as well. But only if Mini Kiss keeps their set — ahem — short. (Sorry Mini-Kiss. I couldn't resist.)
Cautionary note. Tickets are advertised as $10 but historically, the Uptown Tavern has levied a $5 membership fee for "non-members". And please don't ask me how I know this.

Wed, October 27 - Anthro-Pop Records instore, Little Rock, AR at 4 PM
Wed, October 27 - Sticky Fingerz, Little Rock, AR (opening for American Music Club)
Here's the BBC coverage. What an incredible champion of independent music this man was. I was surprised to find out that he held his first job as a DJ in a station in Texas. (How ironic, seeing that the same state has also produced another radio giant in recent years, the great squasher of free thought, Clear Channel.) John Peel, you will be missed.
In memoriam, Radio 1 broadcast Peel's favorite song, Teenage Kicks by The Undertones.
The greatest thing about moving is finding stuff you thought you'd lost. This amazing fuzz pedal was given to me by the world's greatest tone patron — E. It saw a lot of action in the last 2 years of Stella's life and then disappeared when we moved to AR.
Found! When? — yesterday. Where? — deep inside a blue gym bag in the SE corner of my attic. The only question left — does it still work?
Unfortunately I couldn't bring this to the Easys' recording session last night to test it out. The worst thing about moving is...

I first saw James Hall perform in the summer of 1995 at the Nick in Birmingham, Alabama. James materialized from behind the bass rig, blew a terse introduction from his trumpet, and led his band through one of the most exciting sets of live music I have ever witnessed. It was like seeing a Southern version of Nick Cave (circa the Birthday Party) or, better yet, David Bowie.
This Saturday night, nearly ten years later, I saw James Hall perform again. His new band is called Pleasure Club and you know what...

he's gotten even better.


The local-rock-radio-DJ came on stage, screamed "Sonic Yooouth!" in his biggest, local-radio-rock-DJ voice, and we watched an empty stage. It felt like 10 minutes. This wait game was more than a pregnant pause. I think it is safe to say it was the first song. Let's call it "Dis-associative Silence". If you are Sonic Youth, you play whenever and whatever you want.








Last time I was in New Orleans, me and the boys had us a real good time.
Its 7 hours from LRAR to NOLA. If we can leave by 4pm on Friday...
