If you haven't read this week's cover story, then you haven't lost an eye to Phil Lee, knife thrower, reformed rapscallion, and one of Nashville's very best songwriters. Much better than reading about him, though, is seeing him live. He'll be doing an early evening record-release show tomorrow night (Saturday) at Norm's River Roadhouse to play songs from his new CD So Long, It's Been Good to Know You.
Here's a testimonial from songwriter and Tennessean music journalist Peter Cooper that didn't make it into the story, but it's too good not to pass along:
I haven't toured with Phil, but I have gotten to play some shows with him. One memorable one was at the Bluebird. We were doing an in-the-round with Fayssoux McLean, and Emmylou Harris came by to sing on some of Fayssoux's songs. Emmy needed a place to sit down and sing, and Phil suggested, "Why don't you come over here and sit on old Grampee Lee's knee?"
Emmylou declined the offer, and we found her a spot. At song's end, I said something into the microphone like, "Well, folks, you never know what to expect here at the Bluebird. You might hear a hit song, you might hear an unknown song that brings a tear to your eye, or, apparently, you might witness Country Music Hall of Famer Emmylou Harris being sexually harassed." Phil then said, "That was Emmylou Harris? Somebody needs to fill Grampee Lee in on these kinds of things." And Emmylou's smile was absolution. Here's a woman most songwriters in town treat like the Virgin Mary, and Phil Lee gets her to smile by inviting her over to sit on his knee.
If there's no baseball game on, I don't really do anything except sit around and listen to music all day. Sometimes I type while I'm listening. Sometimes I drive while I'm listening. Sometimes I strum a guitar and sing while I listen to myself strum a guitar and sing. Anyway, I listen a lot, and I've never heard anything that reminded me of Phil Lee. He's a singular fellow. While the rest of us appease, he frightens and charms, and sometimes offends, and always entertains. He's the only songwriter in the last 15 years who has come up with an effective couplet that rhymes "maybe" and "baby": "The woman I love's got an ugly baby/ He calls me 'Pa,' I don't know, maybe."
If Guy Clark was raised by a carny, he might write Phil Lee songs.
Like me, I'm sure you've missed the man-on-the-street review videos courtesy of You Tell Concerts. I personally would've been sorely disappointed had Chrystal & Co. not exercised their DIY coverage talents at last week's Judas Priest/Whitesnake show at Municipal. Luckily, they did, and we now have what can only be considered a remake of the Heyn and Krulik classic Heavy Metal Parking lot--albeit much shorter. This film is a true testament to the sentiment that rock 'n' roll will never die. What we learned? The show was badass, Municipal is where ['80s rock] was born, Jabba the Hutt's favorite Priest song is "Livin' After Midnight" and apparently Whitesnake are face-rapers--the original HPL ain't got nothin' on that line.
Take a look after the jump for classic clips from the original.
You know, the '90s weren't all flannel and slackerdom and Dr. Dre, dudes. Here's Enrique's "Do It in the Dirt," from their 1996 album Cut the Cheese. Do it!
Woot woot! Ever since I posted that infomercial for The Gathering, I kind of haven't been able to stop thinking about Juggalo subculture. Initially it's hilarious; but the more you read about these people, the more depressed you become. It's an abject way of life. Anyway, if you're looking for a way to kill time before The Gathering, here are some shows that won't feature any sad-ass clowns with faux psychological depth:
Green Day w/Kaiser Chiefs at Sommet Center. You know, I tried out for my high school talent show with a version of "When I Come Around"--featuring a scorching albeit primitive version of Billy Joe's solo--so if they call me onstage to play, I'll totally be ready. Didn't make the talent show, btw.
Davila 666 w/JEFF the Brotherhood, Turbo Fruits, Heavy Cream & Natural Child at Springwater. Davila 666 are from Puerto Rico, and they make--according to Matt Sullivan--music that "Hover[s] somewhere between Nuggets-era garage rock and '60s power pop."
Max and the Wild Things w/Thunderbear, Adam Dalton & Sam Stewart Band at Café Coco. Something about basketball. Oh, and Max and the Wild Things aren't bad.
Frist Friday feat. The Super T Revue at the Frist Center.
Battery: A Metallica Tribute at Mercy Lounge.
Knowing Me Knowing You: An ABBA Tribute w/The Mothership: A Led Zeppelin Tribute at 3rd & Lindsley. Settling, once and for all, the great debate over who kicks more ass: Sweden or England.
India.Arie at the Ryman.
Casper and the Cookies w/Everything Now, Palm Threat & Ikaik at The End. I totally wrote a pick for this show when Darla Farmer were on the bill, but they dropped off, so I got nothing.
Atomic Garden w/Ampline, The New Depression & The Slow and Steady Winner at The 5 Spot.
That's all I had room for, but you can see the full list here. If we missed anything, let us know. Check back tomorrow, and have a good weekend, my ninjas.
When 106.7-FM went from being ESPN sports radio to being Top 40 yesterday, did you shed a tear? Did you dance a jig of Auto-Tuned happiness? Did you not notice?
I don't really listen to sports radio very often, but when I want to, I want to, and now I can't. Where will I be able to hear Jim Rome?
The i106 website doesn't have much to say about anything, except suggesting that maybe a 12-year-old pimped it out. My other question is, shouldn't they be playing 1,067 songs in a row, not 1,006? (And are they really doing that? The radio in my office broke, so I can't check up on that.)
If you've been wanting to hear Beyonce and 3 Doors Down in the same block, here's your chance!
As we stood on the floor of War Memorial Auditorium waiting for The Dead Weather show to begin, our companion--looking at a group of fans fondling their new DW merch--said, "I bet Jack White could sell his poo and people would buy it." Maybe they would, we thought. Maybe. But not before shouting, "Wooooo!!!"
This was a night of much wooing.
Every time the house music reached the end of a song, the audience would cheer. Every time a roadie adjusted an instrument, the audience would cheer. Every time the lights got darker or brighter, or there was the slightest indication that something in the room was different than the moment before, people would cheer. We don't go to many shows where everyone seems so gotdamn excited about everything.
So when Screaming Females took to the stage, it was to a much bigger ovation than the last time we saw them. We can count on one finger the number of bands we've seen open for JEFF the Brotherhood and then, on their subsequent visit to town, for one of Jack White's bands. The Females are peerless in this category, and why not? Singer/guitarist Marisa Paternoster is a powerhouse, and the band reeled through a frenetic set of heavy chords and cascading rhythms hung with psychedelic shreds. They even played Spin favorite "Bell," and in the process won over the crowd (except maybe the two guys behind us) with their set.
Shortly after SF left the stage, we got a text saying that Tré Cool and Mike Dirnt of Green Day were in the house, though we never saw them. (Lots of familiar local rock faces, though.) It was around this time that the wooing started to get ridiculous. The band's crew, dressed up in black suits and fedoras, got round after round of breathless, anticipatory applause. All the waiting kept reminding us that we'd skipped dinner. But then, at long last, The Dead Weather made their (public) Nashville debut, to a roar that was absolutely deafening. The giant black curtain behind the stage was yanked down to reveal the band's backdrop, which was, uh, it was...a ghost-y fox head with, uh, some kind of shaft coming out of it, rising into, um, a ghost-y...grasshopper-flower? Or something?
"The computerized Tepoe guitar is like having a recording studio, personal assistant, back-up band, sound technician and a guitar-teaching guru right in your instrument".
Ya, buddy, that's exactly what I need, a computer built into my guitar so I don't forget the lyrics while I record the song that I'm forgetting the lyrics to. I also need--I tell you, NEED--to print out sheet music for the song I just wrote at Grandma's house so this is gonna be totally sweet. And it even has the Internet--I've heard that thing fucking rules! And to have it all inside my fucking instrument--well fuckin' A right! Do all the "pages" on this "cyberspace" look as awesome as yours? Thank god I have Sky Mall's phone number on speed dial, I can't wait to get my hands on this thing!
* A few Raconteurs and a My Morning Jacketeer back Corey Chisel on "Born Again," which debuted yesterday on the Rolling Stone site.
* Nashville Nights has a pretty funny meta-blog post about trying to be the first blogger to blog the newest blog house track. (In this case, it's Bloody Beetroots' "Romborama.") "The blogger must then post a track that is new and untouched; then write from a perspective of someone who has actually taken the time to thoroughly listen to the whole album (even though he has only skimmed through each track to find the best one)."
* The Dead Weather show tonight at TPAC is sold out, but if you have a ticket, do consider getting there early for Screaming Females. I like 'em alot. Check out this nice video of SF from their show at The End, courtesy of Optic Audio.
* Oh, and that Miley Cyrus song that leaked? Replace "Jay-Z" with "Kanye."
I know this link was dropped in the comments recently and has been making its rounds on the 'Netz, but it had to be posted. Psychopathic Records, or, ahem, the "label that runs beneath the streets," apparently puts on a massive shindig every year for the folks who call themselves Juggalos. That's slang for Insane Clown Posse fans. If you watch the above infomercial for The Gathering, as it's called, you'll hear ICP member Violent J eloquently describing the feeling of the magical energy that's in the air and how that feels, energy-wise. Magically. Now it's time for the Violent J Drinking Game:
The real magic is the energy that's in the air at the Gathering. Nothing can match that energy. The second you get there, you can feel it. It's pure, utter magic in the air unlike anywhere else on the planet. The Gathering; the feeling in the air; the feeling and the camaraderie between each other; the feeling of family love...It's sort of what it's like what I'd imagine it's like for Muslims who visit the holy land of Mecca. That's what I imagine it to feel like. What it feels like for Juggalos who visit the Gathering.
If you picked the word "feeling," finish your beer. Look, I know this is shooting fish in a barrel, but this event has apparently existed for AN ENTIRE DECADE. I had no idea. I wonder if Darwin Award entries from Cave in Rock, IL, spike dramatically one weekend in August every year. This year's festivities will feature performances by the usual suspects (Kottonmouth Kings, Vanilla Ice and all that) as well as Pauly Shore, Ice Cube and Coolio (how's that Academy Award holding up, buddy?). They also have
roflcopter helicopter rides, wet t-shirt contests and probably more Faygo than anywhere else in the world.
Totally agree with Caves as top album of the year----killer album!
Mac was in the first Southern Rock group called Area Code 615 and Barefoot Jerry,…
We covered this. He is talented.
Does puke come in piles?
It's not because he's black, altho his being black & throwing it in our face…
Guys it's because he's black.