You all know by now my penchant for owning the physical disc. Even when times are hard. I’d love to tell you it’s because my high morals won’t allow me to copy OPD’s (other people’s discs) but, well, I just really like to peel off the wrappers and pop out the pretty inserts and stuff.
And, I do like to cuss the postal system when it’s late, cuss the state of our society because there are no independent music stores – you know, get myself a little worked up. Then, when I finally get my hands on the actual item, I run my fingers over the lyrics booklet, read the dedication and thank yous and all before I listen from track one to the very end.
From the moment I sussed out the info that Steve Earle was releasing "Townes", I knew I’d have to have that one. It’s a forever keeper. And, Guy Clark’s "Sometimes the Song Writes You" was getting multiple rave reviews before I’d ever heard of it, so I internet-ordered that. Kris Kristofferson’s "Closer to the Bone" kept me camped out by the mailbox for a while. Well worth the frostbite, though.
Had to share with you my favorite Christmas song – “Gumdrop,” Brent Best’s sweet tale of Christmas joy and domestic violence. Also, a brilliant take on the classic Clement Moore poem “The Night Before Christmas.” I grabbed this years ago off a Slobberbone fan site (sorry, don’t remember who posted it) and I dust it off every year to remind me of what Christmas is really all about.
I can’t believe this has never been released on an album. . .
There is this Dallas band I’ve been hearing about. They’re called The O’s. And last week they came up here to Denver to play some fancy gig at the Brown Palace.
Turns out that gig was private and they felt bad that their other Denver fans wouldn’t be able to see them so they tacked on another gig after the fancy gig (thanks to Jay Bianchi of Owsley’s Golden Road for scheduling The O’s at the last minute).
So I get Ronnie Fauss’s EP, New Songs for the Old Frontier (FTG Records), in the mail today. I play it a couple times and immediately fall in love with it. Then I play my favorite track (favorite so far – these things change) for Bucky.
“How do you like my new favorite song?:” I ask him.
“It’s good!” he says. ‘Is that Jeff Tweedy?”
“Nope,” I reply, smugly. “It’s someone you’ve never heard of.”
“Yeah?” he says. “Sure about that? ‘Cause it sounds like Pre-