Another sleepy, dusty, delta day.
“In 1967, it was a No. 1 hit for Bobbie Gentry, a singer-songwriter from Chickasaw County, Miss. For two weeks, Gentry was bigger than the Beatles, as her album bumped Sgt. Pepper off the top of the charts.”
“There’s so much power in the brilliant instrumental arrangements in the song, the string section echoing the sound of flowers fluttering down off the bridge, and the pulse of the Tallahatchie River itself.”
OCMS’s 50 Years of Blonde on Blonde is an excellent record. Some of the best covers I’ve heard in a long time.
This is beautiful. The Barton Hills Choir, at Barton Hills Elementary School. Austin, in Texas. Of course.
Sad news out of Atlanta.
I’m not a huge fan of Col. Bruce Hampton‘s music overall, but his influence cannot be overstated. And his Cold Mountain is one of my favorite songs.
This is awesome. And there are more.
As best as I can tell.
I’ve been anxiously awaiting the release of Sarah Shook & the Disarmers‘ new record, Sidelong. Well, let me tell you friends: it was worth the wait.
This is a fucking excellent record.
I could stop at that, and have the most accurate record review ever written. Or I could add that a record hasn’t made me want to guzzle whiskey this much since Decoration Day. Or that I can’t decide which is more perfect, the songwriting, the playing or the (fantastic) arrangements. One thing I’ve learned as a songwriter is that there’s a lot of sausage making in the recording studio. I’ve had songs evolve into excellent songs and I’ve had songs devolve into horrible songs, all thanks to the way they’re arranged and played. Whoever made the sausage on this record is a master chef of boozy, alt. country, rocking ear cuisine.
Want a taste?
“My momma used to tell me to buck up. I guess I’m just too much of a fuck up.” And it gets better. Holy shit.
The studio version of Sidelong is just as excellent as I expected. It’s a whisky-fueled lament to everything that might have been OK, and everything that wasn’t. Dwight Yoakam is a slow burning alt. country number that lives up to its anxious namesake. “She left me nothing but heartache and tears. She took every last one of my good years.” Yep.
There’s more, but I’ll just finish with a thought that stayed in my head the first time I listened to this record. In this day of pop-sounding, watered-down country music and computer-generated, auto-tuned gibberish on the radio, we should all be thankful that there are young folks out there making music like this.