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I used to give money to bums from time to time. Bums, homeless people, guys down on their luck. But after a few years of living in Memphis (or any major city) you get a little cold. I used to work downtown and you couldn't walk ten feet without some stranger approaching you and asking for something...some change, a cigarette, a dollar for something to eat. You feel sorry for a lot of these guys at first. But let me tell ya something, brotha-I can't spare a dime. I got so sick of the con stories so many years ago that I'm sure one day someone in real need of help will get none from me. For that person, I'm apologize in advance. Sorry. The other bums ruined it for ya. Sell it to someone else, mister. David Jett ain't buying.

SIDE NOTE: Back in my younger days, when I would find myself in a strip club from time to time, I noticed that about once an hour, the homeliest stripper would come around to all of the gentleman patrons and ask for a dollar. You never saw the really hot gals doing this, well, cause they were making money. Tips, table dances. So the gals not making money had to come around to all the guys and shame them into giving them a dollar. And they always said the same thing, "Can I have a dollar for the jukebox?" This cracked me up because at one point, maybe during the 1950's, strip clubs had jukeboxes. Right before a girl went on stage, she had to go to the jukebox, pick the song she wanted to dance to, and pony up a quarter. See, that shit makes sense. But by time I ever set foot in a strip club, they had DJ's. And big DJ sound systems that could play "Pour Some Sugar On Me" so loud that your dick would get hard from the sonic vibrations (that really helped the girls with small tits.) Nonetheless, the gals still used the old phrase "dollar for the jukebox." I used to call it "dollar so you will get the hell away from me." You can apply the same thing to bums. Except for the fact that if I ever run into a bum with big tits, she might get two dollars.

I actually did go to a strip club once that still had a jukebox and the girls still had to walk over and play their own song before they danced. This was in Camden, TN. It was kinda sad. I'm talking about the fact that I was actually in Camden. What's even sadder, though, is the time I was in Washington, DC years ago and wandered into a downtown strip club. It's some sort of law there that the girls have to clean the stage after their routines. So you see some gal getting all naked, the song would end, and she would whip out a big bottle of Windex and paper towels and wipe down the stage mirrors and the floor. Let me tell ya, there's nothing sexier than watching a cute gal get naked, dance around, tease you with sex that is not going to happen, and then do household chores. If I wanted that, I would get married...

Ok, back to the bum stories...

Earlier today I was in a local comics shop (or as I girl I know once called it, "The Nerd Store.") So some middle-aged gal in a wheelchair rolls in. She's frantic. Distraught. She may have been legit. She certainly seemed it. She asked the guy at the counter if the owner was in. He said no, but how could he help her. (by the way, the owner was on the other side of the store. I know this cause I know the guys who work there. I'm just leaving their names out of this story to protect the innocent.)
She then went into her story. Her mother had died a few days ago and the funeral was tomorrow. In Houston. She needed a little more money for the airplane ticket to get back there in time. The pastor at the church a block away from the comics store was going to give her the money. He was supposed to meet her at the church to do so. But because it was raining today, she was late getting there. And the pastor had left. And he was too far away to get back in time to give her the money so she could catch her flight. All she needed was $27.

When the counter guy told her that he was broke, she asked if he knew of some place she could get the money. He, sounding sincere, said he really didn't know of a place that could help her. She then almost had a breakdown and said she was scared that she wouldn't make her mother's funeral and that she was running out of time, and she was on the verge of tears. She sounded legit. At least five aisles over, which is where I was by this time. Seriously, by this time, I was over in the Dungeons Dragons part of the store. That's how much I was hiding.

She then asked if it would be ok if she asked the customers in the store for money. She was allowed to do that. She WAS convincing. I then moved over to some other horse-shit section I've never been in. And fuck a bunch of eye-contact, man! I was slinking around like immigration had just pulled up in the Home Depot parking lot. When I did go up to check out, I got some shit for wandering all over the store during her story. "I'll get that Humanitarian of the Year Award in the mail for ya!"
Pot, meet kettle.

To this person's credit, (and lack of cynicism,) someone gave her the money. I'm thinking it may have been less for the "jukebox" and more for the "get away from."

Once again, let me say that she seemed legit. She was about to have a nervous breakdown right there. She was about to cry. Her voice trembled. It gave you doubt. But let's think about her story. She had to fly to Houston for her mother's funeral. She was in a wheel-chair. She had little time left to catch the flight. In these post-9/11 days? You can't just roll up (or "roll up") to the gate at the last minute and get on the flight. You have to be there hours before. And what's with the $27 dollars? What if there were extra charges for the luggage and such? Airlines are doing that now. Did she drive to the comics store in a handicapped friendly van or car? Why couldn't she drive to Houston? If I had tomorrow off, I would have offered to drive her to Houston. If she agreed, I would have been doing a good deed. If she declined, well...but I wasn't in the mood to call her bluff. Or not bluff. Mostly, I didn't think about that until I got home. Damn it.

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Say Hi is, according to both the website and liner notes, a boy named Eric Elbogen. Eric lives and records in Seattle, and is, ostensibly, the whole band (there are some ancillary background singers), playing all the guitar, bass, synthesizer, and drum machines. . . encapsulated on this compact disc, vinyl long player or digital collection.*
Right away Im somewhat skeptical, as my personal tastes tend to gravitate less toward the laptop and more toward . . . well, not new country music, and not the laptopthough I dont mean to conflate the two. But the opening strains of Northwestern Girls, the first track on does much to assuage my worrys an immediacy in those two-and-a-half minutes that grabbed me and pulled me in. The following tracks Shakes Her Shoulders and Toil and Trouble continue piquing my interest, especially which I can really see delivering live, given of course that its performed loud enough. Theres a nice balance of what Ill call, for lack of a better term, organic tension in the song, and the lyric sometimes the slow simmers to a boil contained within well, syllogistic isnt exactly the right word, but lets just say that the line delivers on its promise.

Unfortunately, the wheels more or less come off the wagon for me after that. Back Before We Were Brittle, Oboes Bleat and Triangles Trink, and Magic Beans and Truth Machines are tracks that, for me, dont really go anywhere but sideways and in circles. And at this point it should be noted that, while Im sure he hates the comparison, is more than just a little (Postal Service) Give Up- esque and Elbogens singing voice is, again, more than a little similar to the nerdy romanticism of Ben Gibbard But Say Hi is no Postal Service, and these three songs prove it.
and get us back on track somewhat, but the damage has been done (though does contain the best line of the album: s the thing with her father, the thing with me broken, her new jealous ex and the press And while there is good imagery like this throughout the album, such lyricism ultimately doesnt make up for the lack of dynamism or cogency for the overall lukewarm songwriting that I feel typifies it.
This is cemented with the last three songs, Zero to Love, Apples For the Innocent, and We Lost the Albatross, songs which all deal with themes of either obtaining or need(ing) something new. On the whole I would recommend to Mr. Elbogen to capitalize on what works on this album the first three songs, specifically and jettison the rest. In other words, a third of what hes got works. The other two-thirds need something.
Additionally, I would simply warn him of the risk he takes when opening up, in general, and exposing the elements inside, their inner-working. . . I would warn him to think twice next time about the robot on the cover of his record. For when the robot opens up, it reveals itself to be hollow, its contents nothing but cold air. I dont think Mr. Elbogen wants his art suffering the same criticism.
*That Elbogen is Say His only decision-maker has lent him the space and freedom to employ some personal touches (like this one) in the albums layout that I didnt like, and some that I did: specifically that, though only symbolically, it is broken up into a side A and a side B, a la a throwback vinyl record. I wish more artists, when tracking their albums, would factor in this variable.
**And Conor Obersts, for that matter. And mine. But, Senator, I am no Jack Kennedy, and I digress.

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ALANIS MORISSETTE. At all. Yet, recently, I spent the better part of an afternoon listening my way through her discography. All of it. Put a rush on that coroner. Clean-up on aisle three.

In part, this sudden and unexpected immersion in masochism was inspired by the release of Morissette's latest LP, FLAVORS OF ENTANGLEMENT (the woman has a gift for catchy, roll-right-off-the-tongue album titles, does she not?). Mainly, though, I was remembering the head-over-feet phenomenon that was 1995's JAGGED LITTLE PILL. The fellatio-emblazoned "You Oughtta Know." The ironically non-ironical "Ironic." The boatload of Grammys and Junos. The 30+ million units sold. The question was: How would that album hold up 13 years down the line -- with grunge gone to ground and Lilith Fair a distant, misty memory?

Answer: It doesn't hold up very well at all. Yet Morissette has never entirely abandoned the musical blueprint that she and producer GLEN BALLARD (the Jerry Bruckheimer of audio overseers) were working from back then. Musically, we get faux-funky confessionals built upon bland, drum machine-driven rhythms and LED ZEPPLIN-esque storm stress. Vocally, Alanis cycles from "hysterical howl" to "woeful wail"; from "bitter whine" to "grrrlish growl." And it grrrates. It rrreally, rrreally grrrates.

Always worst of all, though, was (is) the woman's insistence on ripping her lyrics directly from her personal journals, and singing them as-is -- syntax be damned. It gets old right quick, and you sort of want to slap her. Anything to get her off that self-pity/self-empowerment teeter-totter of hers. Anything to put a stop to all that endless, self-obsessed navel-gazing. Alanis, honey, here's a thought: Not every emotion you've ever felt deserves its own song. Sometimes, you just gotta swallow that shit.

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American Kirby Chambliss Crowned Fastest Race Pilot in Border Battle

Red Bull Air Race World Series Dazzles Crowds Simultaneously in USA Canada

Crowds topping 750,000 witnessed American pilot Kirby Chambliss battle for first place during the 2008 RedBull Air Race World Series in Detroit. Chambliss’ winning time of 1:12.08 was mere fractions of a second behind Series points leader Paul Bonhomme at 1:12.23.

Austrian Pilot Hannes Arch placed third with a time of 1:12.73. Fans waited intensely as announcers confirmed that Chambliss was the winner resulting in a celebratory uproar.
Brand new Red Bull Air Race fans gathered along both banks of the Detroit River shattering North American attendance records at previous stops of the worldwide motorsport.

Spectators rushed to witness 12 of the world’s bestpilots introduce the Midwest to a new dimension in motorsport. Cheers roared as it was announced that an American was taking home the first-place title, and enthusiastic spectators proudly sang the American National Anthem in unison as Chambliss accepted his first-place trophy at the awardsceremony.

“I knew I had to fly really fast today because we weren’t able to race yesterday. I went out and just flew as hard as I could,” stated Chambliss.“Winning is always great, but is makes it more special to win on U.S.soil.

”MASSES SWARM TO THE MOTOR CITY
Detroit marked the first time the race occurred between two countries making world history for the Series and for the cities of Detroit and Windsor, Ontario.

Although the Series visited Deroit at the same time as two major of its major sport teams were battling for championship titles, Detroiters came out in droves to the newly revitalized Riverfront for the race. Even though gusty winds prohibited enthusiasts from seeing the race on Saturday,fans formed lines as early as 8:00 a.m. to grab a front row seat on Sunday.

“This put Detroit on the international stage,” said Matt Koenig, a college student from Kentucky who came to watch one of his favorite televised sports in person. “Red Bull Air Race gave this city wings.”

Pilots were under additional pressure as winds caused Saturday’s qualifier to be canceled, forcing the two-day competition to be combined into one dayand eliminating a qualifying round. However, that didn’t stop fans who traveled from around the Midwest to see the third stop of the Red Bull AirRace World Series.

“ALL ABOARD!” THE NEXT TEMPORARY LANDING IN SWEDEN
The Detroit race followed the first U.S. stop of the 2008 Series in SanDiego on May 3 and 4, where it returned for a second year with 120,000spectators. It will be viewed globally by more than 400 million people later this year. After today’s race, Mike Mangold, Kirby Chambliss andHannes Arch are tied for Series’ second place points standings (21 points).

In the Red Bull Air Race, the world’s best pilots race at speeds reaching230 mph, enduring forces of up to 10 Gs as they navigate a low-level,aerial race track made of air-filled pylons.

In the United States, each race will be broadcast on Sunday evenings on FoxSports Network starting in July. The Detroit race will air on July 27 and again on October 5.
Previous U.S. cities have included San Francisco, Monument Valley and San Diego.
The Series also returns to London,Budapest, Porto, and Perth, which all held races in 2007.

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Bobby Bare's news report is nearly as bewitching as his medicine. Bare's mother died when he was v. His father couldn't earn enough money to feed his children, forcing the fellowship to rip up. Bare was working on a farm by the time he was 15 years old, later working in factories and marketing ice cream to support himself. Building his low guitar, he began playing music in his late teens, playacting with a local Ohio band in Springfield.


In the previous '50s, he moved out to Los Angeles. Bare's low appearance on record book was in 1958, as he recorded his own talking blues "The All American Boy," which was credited to Bill Parsons. A figure of labels refused the record before the Ohio-based Fraternity Records bought it for $50; the fee too included the publication rights. "The All American Boy" was released in 1959 and it astonishingly became the second-biggest individual in the U.S. that December, crossing all over to the pop charts and peaking at number ternion. The exclusive was too a big hit in the U.K., reaching number 22.


Before Bare could capitalise on his success, he was drafted into the armed forces. While he was on tariff, Fraternity leased another isaac M. Singer to become Bill Parsons and sent him kayoed on turn. After Bare left the army, he became roommates with Willie Nelson. During this time, he distinct to go a pop singer. Soon, he was touring with pop/rock stars like Roy Orbison and Bobby Darin, recording records for a number of California labels. Meanwhile, his songs were being recorded by a figure of artists; ternion of his tunes were featured in the Chubby Checker motion picture Adolescent Millionaire.


Level though he was having some meek success, Bare decided he wasn't fulfilled playing pop music. Instead, he turned back to rural area, development a distinctive portmanteau word of area, folk, and pop. In 1962, Chet Atkins sign-language him to RCA Records. By the end of the year, he had a dispatch with "Dishonor on You," which was renowned for organism one of the first records out of Nashville to make concessions to the pop charts by featuring horns. The production worked, as the individual bust into the pop charts. The following year, he recorded Mel Tillis and Danny Dill's "Motown City," which became his instant straight single to make both the land and drink down charts. Bare followed up the exclusive with a traditional folks song, "five hundred Miles from Home." It was some other liberal dispatch for the singer, peaking in the Top Ten on both the area and pop charts. Bare continued to rack up hits in 1964 and 1965, as easily as appearance in the Western motion picture A Distant Trumpet.


As the '60s progressed, Bare continued to blur the lines betwixt country and folk, as he was influenced by songwriters like Bob Dylan, recording material by Dylan and several of his contemporaries. Not only did he explore American folk, simply Bare travelled to England, where he was pop. In 1968, he recorded an album with a Liverpool rural area band called the Hillsiders (The English Country Side), which signaled his artistic drive.


Stripped switched record labels in 1970, sign language with Mercury Records. He stayed at the label for deuce age, producing a string of Top Ten hits, including "How I Got to Memphis," "Please Don't Tell Me How the Story Ends," and "Come Sundown." Upon leaving Mercury, he recorded an album for United Artists called This Is Bare Country, which remained unreleased until 1976; rather, the label released a collection, The Very Best of Bobby Bare. After going UA, he re-signed with RCA in 1973.


Later on in 1973, Bare released a forked album of Shel Silverstein songs, Bobby Bare Sings Lullabys, Legends and Lies. Not only did the album interpret the beginning of a collaboration with Silverstein, it was arguably the low rural area conception album, adding fire to the lawless movement of the '70s in the work on. The record was a remove with rural area audiences as good as rock candy fans, gaining airplay on FM wireless stations of the Cross. The following year, he had his outset number one individual with "Marie Laveau." Bare released some other record of Silverstein songs, Bobby Bare and the Family Singin' in the Kitchen, in 1975. Unfortunately, the singer's oldest girl died shortly afterward transcription the album; she was only 15.


In 1977, Bare received a major packaging push from Bill Graham, the legendary stone concert booster. Graham signed the isaac Bashevis Singer to his direction company, proclaiming that Bare was the "Springsteen of country music." Soon, the vocalist found new audiences at college campuses and in Canada. He switched record labels the same year, transcription the self-generated Naked for Columbia. Two age later, he released Sleeper Whenever I Fall, which featured contributions from Rodney Crowell and rearranged careen vagabond songs like the the Rolling Stones' "The Last Time" and the Byrds' "Feel a Whole Lot Better." Bare resumed his coaction with Silverstein in 1980, releasing the lively ingathering Downward and Dirty, which spawned 2 humourous hits, "Book of Numbers" and "Tequila Sheila." The following year, he released As Is, which showed that he was continuing to record a diverse pick of songwriters, including Townes Van Zandt, J.J. Cale, and Guy Clark.


Disdain the fact that his act was consistently critically acclaimed, Bare's record sales began to slip in the early '80s, as the 1982 Silverstein coaction Drinkin' from the Bottle, Singin' from the Heart and his 1985 record for EMI failed to set up whatsoever major hit singles. Nevertheless, Bare continued to retain a devoted undermentioned in the U.S. and the U.K., and his influence on contemporary rural area music remains apparent. In 2005, the Dualtone label coaxed Bare out of retreat and released a new record album, The Moon Was Blue.

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The beautifully lit Crackerfarm-directed video for "Rebel Side Of Heaven" takes place at the Box in Manhattan. It looks really good (lots of rich shadows and tones), which makes sense: Crackerfarm, aka the husband/wife team of Mike and Lindsey, are also photographers, who've shot Sonic Youth, the Avett Brothers, Sparklehorse, Regina Spektor, Langhorne himself, etc. (The image to the right's a screengrab from the video, not a promo photo.) Content-wise, it's a simple, raucous performance by PA-born, Brooklyn-based Langhorne Slim and his War Eagles interspersed with spotlit mugging by the band, various bar and bathroom tableau (folks making out, a guy reading the newspaper on the can, a peeping tom, a dude blowing his horn). It's our second video of the day that features a woman wearing a tie. If we have one more, we declare a trend.

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MAY DAY! Celebrate it at Baltimore's Charm City Art Space with Denton, Texas' own Fishboy, The Up Set, Thee Lexington Arrows, and Markitect. Or perhaps you would like to go to DC for RJD2 and Happy Chichester at the 9:30 Club. Another option is Langhorne Slim performing at Iota. Finally you could head north to see Steve Goldberg and the Archenemies perform at The Fire in Philly with Sarah White and Sleeper Car.

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I really do live for moments like this - when I find great new talent and the songs end up working for me on so many levels. (You know what I'm talking about... the joy of finding albums that don't have any bad songs...) Today's project is Langhorne Slim The War Eagles.

This indie-rock artist (obviously influenced equally by country, blues and folk) is one hell of a talent! His lyrics are ironic and the band is just sensational. One of the finest things I can say about this project is how tight the band sounds - despite the varying punctuation and pace of the 13 tracks. (Sometimes they are tempered slow, steeped in tradition like the slow and steady blues in the summer heat. Other times, Langhorne delivers his words in rapid fire aggression - howling for punctuation. The drums and bass, they come along for the ride.)

The songs are short - but they are well-received abbreviations (just nipping at the edges of the band's creativity). Having missed the band during their recent Boston appearance (believe me - I wouldn't have had I heard this album beforehand), I can only imagine what these songs would sound like cracked open and performed live.

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I really do live for moments like this - when I find great new talent and the songs end up working for me on so many levels. (You know what I'm talking about... the joy of finding albums that don't have any bad songs...) Today's project is Langhorne Slim The War Eagles.

This indie-rock artist (obviously influenced equally by country, blues and folk) is one hell of a talent! His lyrics are ironic and the band is just sensational. One of the finest things I can say about this project is how tight the band sounds - despite the varying punctuation and pace of the 13 tracks. (Sometimes they are tempered slow, steeped in tradition like the slow and steady blues in the summer heat. Other times, Langhorne delivers his words in rapid fire aggression - howling for punctuation. The drums and bass, they come along for the ride.)

The songs are short - but they are well-received abbreviations (just nipping at the edges of the band's creativity). Having missed the band during their recent Boston appearance (believe me - I wouldn't have had I heard this album beforehand), I can only imagine what these songs would sound like cracked open and performed live.

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This eponymous album from New Yorican neo-folkster Langhorne Slim opens up with a simple melancholy cello line which turns into the ragged and rousing seaside stomp of “Spinning Compass”; authentic and irreverent in equal parts, it sets the standard for Langhorne Slims songwriting approach. Which, in a nutshell, involves taking straight folk music tropes and subverting them.
A hint of cheese and cheeky humour disguising something serious seems to be the order of the day. Langhorne Slim sings “Restless”, and its just the paean to the unfettered wanderers life that youd expect, all simple fingerpicking and wistful lyrics. But underneath the surface lurks what sounds like honest bafflement - “I just dont know what it is,” sings Slim, and you really feel he doesnt know.
But nor does he sound like hes going to let it bring him down too much. If you could reduce Langhorne Slims songs to a gesture, theyd be a rakish shrug combined with a turn of the shoulder as he heads off down the road. The worlds a crazy mystery, he seems to say, but thats what makes it worth wandering around in.
If youre on the hunt for musical virtuosity or rock-out heaviness, Langhorne Slim is not the droid youre looking for. The album is mostly mellow (though hardly ever mopey), driven principally by simple folk guitar playing or piano with a supporting cast of accordions, strings, brass and who knows what else – all the sounds of your local roots club, essentially, minus the smugness and real ale fascism.
And theres the thing – Langhorne Slims mission seems to be a good-time send-up of that oh-so-serious beard-strokin post-Dylan stuff. Its like a subtle Muppet Show spoof, a satire with multiple layers of subtext, alternating between humour and insight and in many ways I wish theyd gone a little easier on the instrumentation to let the lyrics shine through.
Its Slims delivery that makes it work, though – from the sweet and (one assumes) feigned naivete of “Rebel Side Of Heaven” to the hipshakin organ wig-out of “Honeymoon”, via the straighter styles of rattle-trap country (“Tipping Point”) and mellow jangle of “Oh Honey”, its that ragged and broken young voice that pulls you past the simplicity of the tunes. Its a tough style to trap on record, though, and Id be willing to bet that Langhorne Slim is ten times more powerful seen live.
But hey, why worry about it.

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One of my favorite Slim songs - She's Gone - was a stripped down masterpiece when he played it on Daytrotter. Now, the frantic pace is bolstered by some crazy instrumental choices. When he screams, "filthy demands", I expected to hear the gentle cymbal wash, but instead was hit with a banged out piano line.

For these tracks, it's mostly just Slim letting his band fill in his ideas. The energy and grit still shine trough and the backbone of the songs is still there, but it's the three song block - Hello Sunshine, Diamond and Gold and The Honeymoon - that really shows the big shift. Hello Sunshine is piano and drum drive, complete with some chaotic swirling electronic textures and falsetto vocals hovering above the chorus. Diamond and Gold is a piano driven soul track with nary a guitar strum to be found. Instead there are some twinkled ivories and a stand up bass solo all which play well with the more sensitive, optimistic Slim. The Honeymoon is a keyboard, almost new wave sounding track that almost begs for some campy British dance party like you'd see in an Austin Powers flick. Even more shocking is how well the songs fit and how great they sound.

Just as quickly, he returns to form with the boot stomping Tipping Point. The sing-along chorus and hi-di-hos will make this one an instant fan favorite for those lucky enough to see Slim and the War Eagles up close and personal. The record closes with two beautiful songs - Worries and The Hummingbird- which shows how accessible Slim can be. The songs float by like a summer breeze, forcing you to tap a foot and slow down a step.

Overall, I have to say that this isn't the record I expected, but it's one I'm really enjoying. I haven't stopped listening since I got it - forcing Sun Kil Moon and Justin Rutledge to the back burner - and can't see me changing the rotation anytime soon.

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