James McMurtry at The Bluebird, Me at 12th and Porter

Lately I've found myself at The Bluebird Cafe a lot. For those who don't know, The Bluebird is a legendary, extremely renowned acoustic listening room in Nashville. 99% of their shows are songwriter rounds, and they have 2 rounds per night: a late round with mostly established songwriters who have lots of hits sung by other people (Montgomery Gentry, Reba MacIntyre, etc), and an early round with mostly songwriters with no hits. Sometimes you see some amazing music. People like Tony Arata, Georgia Middleman, Walt Aldridge, Rivers Rutherford...people with soul, and songs that go beyond being just hits or cuts. Then a lot of times you hear weak carbon copies of older better songs, exclusively about Jesus, whiskey, I'm-from-a-small-town, guns, mama...all fine topics, I suppose, but please - this territory has been freakin' covered. Sometimes you see everything wrong with country music rolled into one show. Last month, I happened to see a late round with 4 lunkheads who were actually worse than the early round (a rarity). Every moment was catered entirely to the "proud of my 15 IQ" crowd, much flak was given to the one guy in the round who forgot his baseball cap, and they worked hard to alienate as much of the crowd as they could with insanely stupid jokes (eg. "What's emptier than an empty soda can? A democrat's head"). Then they started gay bashing, right there the stage. And eventually - you can tell where this is going - they sang a whole gay bashing song they had written. Imagine. This isn't some hole in the wall off the highway in rural Kentucky, this is an esteemed club. Then to finish off the set, we find out that one of them is the guy who wrote "She's Country". So they all played that. Yee haw!

At the other end of the spectrum, in every conceivable way, you have James McMurtry. Here's the thing with James: he rocks. James is out of Texas, and as far as my world goes, in terms of Texas songwriters you have Townes Van Zandt, James McMurtry, and then everyone else. Guy Clark and Willie too, I'll give you that. So James played last night - part of the 1% who gets his own show - and I spent 6 weeks making sure I could be there for it. Amazing. And then...then...sadly, a tragic confluence of events made it so that I could only stand down the back hallway of the Bluebird and listen. I hadn't seen James play in about 2 years, and my soul was painfully aware of the landscapes of which it was being deprived. I used to see James all the time in Austin - he plays almost every Wednesday - and I never had to go too long to start missing him. My old guitar player Charlie is very close to him, and he used to go on about him (like a number of things, I came to find out later that Charlie was right and I was wrong). Like all of the best things ("Exile On Main Street", Bob Dylan, broccoli rabe), James took some extended exposure for me to really come around. Some things plant their talons in you and just grow. With James...there is a way of writing songs that makes you pause and breathe between the lines and notes, like in a novel. What's in the lines somehow emotes this strange shadow that makes you look for what else is there, like he's not telling you everything (and James tells you a lot). It's never finite, it can always change. It's between you and the song. It's endless. What makes it great is what is in the lines, but what makes it everlasting is what's left between them. His characters' landscapes, stories, emotions (or sometimes lack thereof) - the way they're spelled out is very real and you can practically reach out and touch them. Or at least you can feel them brush up against you like an impending tornado squall. The dry, often twisted, pain that these people go through - you feel them, and they don't leave you. And that's what James does. And the authority with which he delivers his songs! It's terrifying! Not for the faint of heart. James McMurtry as a pure singer will never be confused with Aaron Neville or Smokey Robinson, or Norah Jones. Not so much a "singer", per se. Think more Lou Reed. His voice is one of those very rare voices, like Bob Dylan, Johnny Cash, whose sole timbre is the truth. "We Can't Make It Here" - 3 chords and the truth - that's it, folks. Yet embarrassing as it is to say, I routinely well up when I listen to his music - the vivid pictures and relationships he hits you with, how it could be you, me, someone we love, anyone. How can someone's voice weigh so much, and yet still walk with a light step? The unique and personal melodies he delivers, that belong only to him. He's really a one of a kind, is James. And last night I found myself welling up from the back hall (secretly, of course), listening to so many of these stories going by, too far away from me. "Ruby And Carlos", "Holiday", "Rachel's Song", "Hurricane Party"...on it went. Finally then, towards the end of the show, I was able to go sit down and watch, to close my eyes, and go there. "Levelland", "Lights Of Cheyenne", "Peter Pan". It hit me hard, maybe harder than if I'd been able to watch the whole show. It was the soundtrack of the last 5 or 6 years of my life. I'm considering driving to Birmingham Sunday night to see him again - properly. I don't think I'll ever do that for the "She's Country" guys.

James McMurtry isn't for everyone. Some of you know him, some of you don't. Ruby And Carlos came out right before I packed up and moved to Tennessee. On the studio version, my friend Harmoni sings a harmony part on the chorus. It's one of the most breathtaking fleeting audio moments I know of, I get all John Boehner every time, choking up.

Holding back the flood just don't do no good
You can't unclench your teeth and howl the way you should
So you curl your lips around
And you taste the tears and the hollow sound
That no-one owns but you
No-one owns but you



*************************

A couple of weeks back, my band and I played 12th and Porter. Like always, I unknowingly booked a gig in the middle of another Nashville initials week (CMA's, AMA's, CRS, etc etc). My friends Kevin Gordon and Rick Brantley - both excellent - were also on the bill. I think we had 14 total payed at the door. Combined! Oops. And these guys are actually pretty successful artists! But...I will say, for me it still ended up being a very memorable night. When my band and I started, there were 4 people in the crowd. Somehow, by song 3 or 4, another 10 or 15 people had trickled in (there is a lounge outside). Sad, but...what a difference! We didn't know who they were, but they were way into it and stayed for the whole show. It's a small room, so 18 people - it can feel OK. We had 3 new songs in our set, and it was the 2nd show with our newest guitar and bass players. And everybody just played great, and it was such a high! 18 people and it was one of my best band shows. It's crazy, when you forget about your expectations and just go wherever the pitch is, you can sometimes be liberated. Always...always...a pieces of my heart is broken when I put effort into getting people out to shows, and they don't come. Posters, handbills, emails, texts, blogs...and then no-one comes. You can't understand unless you've been there. You feel like what the hell are you doing with your life? We had a special long rehearsal the night before, to work up 3 new songs for this big show. Don't get me wrong, it's not like it happens every show. But when it does, oh is it brutal. It's indescribable, and it can take you to very low places. The winning thing is, though, I'm having so much fun with these guys in the band...we just said fuck it - let's just have fun and give these 4 people a night they'll not soon forget. So Jen Cancino, Larissa, Andy, Kim - thanks! We'll think about who's not here later. I'll think about how far it puts me in the financial hole later. That's the plan, let's execute.



I don't get to play with my band nearly enough (it's economics), but this night showed me that with these guys, no matter what the situation, I think we'll overcome and prevail. And it's going to happen. We've pulled it out every time, but somehow 12th and P took things to the next level, for me anyway. It was fun as shit, and I couldn't be more psyched for the next time I get to play with these guys, and show more than those 18 people what we're capable of. The club loved it, said forget the numbers, we're having you back.

As for life, Kim is doing great, Alaska is doing great, its 78 degrees, and we're cooking out tonight. Thanks for the grill, Dad.

February Shows

Greetings. It has been awhile since my last posting, I know. That's mainly because I haven't had much to do other than work on songs, and how exciting is that to blog about? Answer: not very. Here's something I'm liking....though these things aren't always finished.



I "filmed" this in Arkansas. Oh, I was in Arkansas, I did a nice weekend run through Alabama and Arkansas a couple of weeks back. Played 3 good venues - Moonlight On The Mountain in Birmingham, Poet's Loft in Hot Springs, and R. Landry's in Fort Smith (AK). In Birmingham I shared the bill with a new buddy, Kevin Gordon. Check out his website. He's got killer songs, and a refreshingly bone dry sense of humor. It also turns out we are East Nashville neighbors. Time for a few six packs and Stephen Wright DVD's, I say.

This coming week I will be playing in Louisiana and Texas.

Wed Feb 2: New Orleans, LA - Neutral Grounds Coffeehouse
Thu Feb 3: Baton Rouge, LA - Boudreaux & Thibodeaux
Sun Feb 6: AUSTIN, TX! - House Concert at Doug Marcis'
Mon Feb 7: Dallas, TX - Opening Bell Coffee

I feel like I've gone on about Austin in posts past. All I can expound is that it will be very emotional for me. And not just because of Torchy's...mmmm...Torchy's....my God.... er, but rather that Austin gave me some of the best years of my life. My home now is Nashville, with Kim and Alaska, and I wouldn't trade it for anything. But I do miss Austin. I love it like no other place, because it is like no other place. Like New Orleans, New York...entirely its own special world. So help me, Austin - let's all have a great night at the Marcis/Jarry house. Screw the Super Bowl!

I've got 4 songs done and in the can for my next record. It drives me crazy not having the means to go ahead and keep on working, recording more songs for it. Sometimes I feel the only moments in which I'm truly artistically satisfied are those few days every couple of years when I find myself in a recording studio, able to arrange and properly record new material. It's the moment of payoff for all the thinking, planning, and obsessing that people like me do for the other 364 days of the year. Opening presents with the family on Christmas morning? I'm there too, thinking about what type of organ sound I should try to get for the bridge on such and such song. Staring at the Grand Canyon? I'm thinking about vocal reverb. I have a friend who is going to help me move the CD through Nashville and try to drum up some interest - label, publishing, or otherwise - some capital. In time, there will likely be a Kickstarer campaign as well, where folks like you could donate towards a set financial target for the project. If we would fail to reach that target within a specified period of time, all the money gets returned. How about that? This would ensure that what wouldn't happen would be not enough money getting raised for the project to be done right, and me thus spending all of your money on whisky.

Making my own records is most important to me. A large percentage of writers here in Nashville write songs purely for the purposes of pitching them to other artists. I'm all for that. It's something I'm working to get into, too. It's the principle reason I moved here. But I look around and know it could never, ever be enough for me on its own, I'm also always going to need to make my own records, and play to my own audiences. That's what drove me to begin all those years ago. It pisses me off, but that's how it is.

Oh, last post I told you all about that Springsteen Darkness tribute I did. As you would imagine, I felt like Rush Limbaugh in an OxyContin lab, a kid in a candy store. Here is an edit of the entire show, courtesy of this very cool videographer in town named Steve Boyle. We all appear twice, once during the album sequence itself, once later during the encores:



More soon, be well.

The Darkness Long On Players (On) The Edge Of Town

This weekend I'm involved in a really cool project. There is a band here in town called The Long Players, made up of a bunch of A-List veteran Nashville players. Core guys - Bill Lloyd, Steve Allen, Steve Ebe, John Deadrick, and Brad Jones. As The Long Players, they assemble to do album tribute shows - 47 since 2004, I believe. 2 months ago, they did "Exile On Main Street" with none other than Bobby Keys on sax. Their bass player Brad took over from the original bassist when he moved out of town 3 years ago. Garry Tallent. Yeah, that Garry Tallent. This weekend, The Long Players are doing Bruce Springsteen's "Darkness On The Edge Of Town". And I'm singing in it!

As those of you who know me know, I am a completely delirious, unjustifiably ridiculous Bruce Springsteen fanatic. While Bob Dylan and Townes Van Zandt's muses may in fact be closer to God than anywhere I'll ever visit, Bruce Springsteen's rest in our unique earthly orbit, and musically and spiritually they permeate every single artistic thing I seem to believe in. I've seen him in concert something like 11 times. I would likely have seen him more times, but until I finally had the opportunity, he hadn't really toured in any capacity that I could attend since the '80's, when I was still a child, and hadn't really grown into him yet. The first time I saw him was when he did a 15 night stand at The Meadowlands in July/August 1999. I went 4 nights. 3 were in one week.

I've grown up some since then - meaning I spend less money on concert tickets - but I have been psyched like a teenager for this show since I got the call 2 weeks ago. Last night at the rehearsal, the reminder I'd set on my phone for the show - before I was even in the show - went off right as we were starting. Is this crazy? Sometimes you just have to remember the reasons you devoted your life to music, and surrender fully to the joy. Not surprisingly, the rehearsal itself last night was one of those moments! I was telling Kim right beforehand that I didn't know the last time I was as excited for a rehearsal. I love rehearsing with my band, it's very fulfilling and is always time well spent. You learn a lot, and you get better. But...I was practically as pumped for this rehearsal as I have been for the show itself tomorrow night. I slept for only two hours the night before (for other reasons), but went on pure adrenaline. I'm almost afraid I blew my load too early, and might not have another level to go to tomorrow night!

I guess its likely that won't be a problem. One of the other reasons I'm excited about this show, though, is it's a great hang, and a great opportunity. I got involved in this sort of thing back in Austin, too, with a bunch of guys called Will Taylor and Strings Attached. Through it, I met and started working with a whole new network of people. It opened up a lot for me, things that wouldn't have happened otherwise. A bunch of new friends, a bunch of new people in the audiences. I enjoyed everything in Austin more. Looking back, my last few years in Austin were definitely my happiest years in Austin - for a few reasons, obviously. That wasn't all of it, but it certainly contributed to the picture.

Anyway...needless to say, if you can come to the show this Saturday night at Mercy Lounge (March 20) - you should. 10% of the door goes to a selected local charity. The band is so spot on, and I feel practically every singer involved will be unleashing at least part of their inner teenage fist clenching, heart thumping, boundary breakin'....EARTH QUAKIN', HISTORY MAKIN'....er, self.

If you missed it, check out Bruce with The Roots on Jimmy Fallon, I've been buzzing on this performance for 2 days. What intensity. ?uestlove - Jesus, man! Sit through the 30 second commercial, it's worth it.

Also below is something from print the day after the show.



Backing Bruce Springsteen on Late Night With Jimmy Fallon Tuesday night was a near-surreal experience for The Roots drummer ?uestlove. "During rehearsal, when the producer said, 'Ladies and gentleman, 'Because The Night' with the Professor and Little Steven, here's Bruce Springsteen and The Roots' — I couldn't move," ?uestlove tells Rolling Stone. "And they were looking at me like, 'Okay count the song off.' And I was like, I said, 'Holy shit. I heard that.'"

He adds: "I mean, I've done some intense playing on our show, but that was the most intense playing I've ever done. He completely surpassed any expectation I've ever had for any mythical god of rock figure."

In a rare talk show appearance to promote the new Darkness on the Edge of Town box set, Springsteen chatted with Fallon on the couch about everything from his brother-in-law to the setbacks of new technology. Alongside The Roots and E Street band members Steven Van Zandt and keyboardist Roy Bittan, he ripped through five-minute takes of rockers "Because the Night" and "Save My Love" — and hilariously dressed up as himself circa 1975 for his own take on Willow Smith's "Whip My Hair."

Before the show, the band rehearsed for 90 minutes, running through "Because the Night" six times and "Save My Love" four times. "[Bruce] was just like, 'Hey, you do what you do,'" ?uestlove says. "'I don't want you to be Max Weinberg. I want you to be you.'"

But soon, during a take of "Because the Night," the drummer got found himself in one of Max Weinberg's familiar dilemmas. "Bruce and Little Steven were giving me the exact opposite instructions — It was kind of like good cop, bad cop," he says.

Check out the exclusive Rolling Stone Q&A with Springsteen

"There's a moment on the bridge where Bruce said, 'You got to watch Steven's body language. He will come over, bend his knees — that means to bring the dynamics down. Play to a whisper," he adds. "But then two seconds later during the song Springsteen's looking at me like, 'Yo man,' jumping up and down and Steven is like on his knees. My band's laughing at me because they know exactly, you know, the type of quagmire I'm in right now. One guy is telling me he wants to see blood drawn because he wants me to play real powerful and the other one wants me to bring it down a little bit."

He met them in the middle. But on TV, nothing was brought to a whisper. And just as Springsteen has been known to do in arenas, the band went over their allotted set time. "If you look at the last 20 seconds [of "Because the Night"], all of us are literally in a circle. It's like no one else is in that room except Little Steven, the Professor, Bruce, and all seven of my guys," says ?uestlove. "We're totally disregarding the minute mark and the deadline. I'm surprised they got it all on there 'cause Lord knows we went 32 bars over. We were supposed to end after the end of the bridge, but we just kept going. None of that stuff was expected — the guitar solo."

But "Whip My Hair" will be the moment fans remember the most — Springsteen decked out in his classic beard, sunglasses and leather jacket while Jimmy Fallon is dressed as a 1970-era Neil Young, duetting on Willow Smith's viral hit. It was Fallon's idea, but "[Bruce] was absolutely game for it, especially dressing up as his 1975 self," says ?uestlove.

He's silent for moment. "I just got a text from Jay-Z saying he's watching right now and it's incredible."

Hallowe'en and The Who

I hope you all had a fun hallowe'en. Ours was good - in one of the more rare occurrences of my life, I actually dressed up in costume. I didn't go all out - no makeup or wig (you need to plan more than 3 hours ahead for that), but I still made the effort. I was Dio.



Or can't you tell...



It was fun, we blasted Neon Knights all the way to the Grace Potter show we attended. Kudos to Grace and co, they did a great show, one that it turns out was their tour finale. They dressed up for hallowe'en, too:



The whole show had a 'sense of occasion' vibe about it, which made it special. Kim, as usual, put a bit more thought and planning into her costume, so consequently we were Dio and a much more badass ladybug.



Good times!

Last night I was watching a thing on TV with some footage from one of the great rock performances of all times: The Who, at The Concert For New York City. It's something I've had on audio for years, but haven't seen since that night. This was one month after 9/11, and truly, as far as all time most memorable performances...I mean....Hendrix at Monterey, Dylan at Newport...whatever your poison, this is a performance to behold, and community at its finest. Everyone was happy for the first time in their new lives. Daltry, Entwistle, Zak Starkey were all on their A game, but Townsend - my god - he was possessed by something that night I don't know if I'll ever understand. I don't know if I've ever been as close to tears watching a man play guitar in my life - and this is 9 years removed from all the emotion of that time. Attacking his guitar like a goddamn F-11. You want to talk about the healing power of rock and roll, you need not look any further than this, and the faces of those heroes in attendance. There will never be another night quite like that, and there will never be another band like The Who.

And the thing that made me smile at the end, as it all came to a close, was looking down on the stage in front of Pete. 2 pedals. A cord going in, a cord connecting them, and a cord going to the amp. Woohoo!

For your viewing pleasure, here is the entire 4 song performance. I don't remember where it was in the running order of the night, but it is certainly the moment that no-one who saw it will ever forget.

Who Are You...


Baba O'Reiley...


Behind Blue Eyes...


Won't Get Fooled Again...


Long live rock!

Promo Video, Memories of Jeff Buckley

So there's that.

I did a 2 1/2 week job in Lexington, KY this past month, to help make ends meet. Er, actually...to create two ends, lengthen them, make them meet..the whole nine! It was...different...but had its ups, and I got to hear Lyle Lovett perform, which is always cool. And I listened to Jeff Buckley all the way up and back. Having not put him on in at least a couple of years, I taken by both how quickly I was thrust back into his landscapes, and also by the immense character he has in his silken voice - a character in my world usually reserved for gravelly throated old man troubadors (ie. 90% of my favorite singers). I have always been pissed off I did not have a more weathered sounding voice. I could just never commit to all the whiskey. I've always kind of felt like if you're trying to sing the truth, you've got to at least sound like you've put in the years making the mistakes required to even come close to understanding the subject. Howling Wolf, Leonard Cohen, Bob Dylan... even in their younger days, a raw and unrefined glory, letting you know they're really of the earth (well I can't speak for Wolf, I don't know if he ever was young).

Anyway, Jeff reminded me you don't have to sound old to be an old soul, you just have to believe the life you live. I miss Jeff and his music. He was gone right as he headed out of the gate, and it's everybody's loss. He was one of a kind. Like Wolf, Dylan, and the rest of them..



New DN music coming soon..

New Tour, Same Home

Over the last few weeks, I went out and made up the dates I had to miss in July. This took me to Ruidoso and Las Cruces in New Mexico, and Midland/Odessa in Texas. As you all know, I'm terrified of driving, but over the course of 2700 miles, I seemed to settle down. I was a little nervous heading into Ruidoso, as I hadn't done a full night of my own material in 8 or 9 months, and I remembered the crowd there as being pretty attentive. Somehow it all came together, though. In fact, I felt a little extra surge, as maybe it had all built up. Some of these songs, it had been quite some time, it was exciting to actually play them again.

Maybe it helped that the drive out there looks basically like this:



Also helping wasthe added serenity I experienced all the way out there, having discovered this newfangled invention - the audiobook. Ahhh. My ears aren't dead after 20 hrs of driving an old Volvo.

Oh, speaking of long drives, that reminds me - I haven't yet mentioned the end of my tenure with Natalie Stovall and her band. Yes, it's true. All things must come to and end, and my memories are fond. We're all friends, I have little doubt we'll all work together in varying capacities in the months ahead. Certain paths seem to cross for a reason. I wish them all the best.

Sadly though, while they've filled the hole left by my departure, I haven't quite filled the ones of my own resulting from...their going back out on the road! I kind of got ZP into that gig with me, and with Miguel I kind of stumbled into the good fortune of having him on for a few gigs and recording sessions. One good thing about sharing musicians with the other band is that when it's your break time, it's their break time, too. But alas, they're back out getting paid again, and I've got work to do. I'm not sweating it, but I will offer a shout out: ZP, Jefe - you're both unique talents, as well as special guys. It'll never be the same, but...22-25!

A few weeks ago, we had a great show at 3rd & Lindsley, and were graced with Natalie's presence for a song as well... Note her exceptionally awesome hair on this night!







So now I'm working with my booking agent on filling up my fall and winter, and plugging away with the recordings for an eventual new record. Kim has been sweeter than ever. I've been under the weather all week, and spent a lot of time at home with Alaska listening to the radio and playing cat toy hockey. All in all, it's good times.

Amarillo

Well I took my first serious drive in the wake of our crash over these past two days. I've driven around town and stuff, but not this kind of driving. I left Nashville yesterday morning, and am in Amarillo tonight. Tomorrow morning I head to where my first solo tour show is - New Mexico. This is a lot of driving for someone who is suddenly paralyzed with fear on the road! When can I be Fleetwood Mac and just fly everywhere? Everything is different now. It's hard to believe that during all the time before, I just....assumed I was going to stay on the road and not be subject to death or serious injury at any moment. Like traveling in a mobile metal projectile on wheels at 75 MPH for 8-10 hours straight doesn't lend itself to odds that something crazy might happen. What are the chances? I'm doing the best I can to believe that rubber tires can actually achieve traction on a concrete road - even when going around a bend - but it's not automatic like it used to be. Especially in Oklahoma. It's always noteworthy how sudden your surroundings change when you enter one state from another. As soon as you enter New Mexico from Texas, for instance, you see vague plant life in the desert, a different hue in the land, a different sound in the wind. Enter Colorado from New Mexico - suddenly there are more trees, mountains, it's greener. And as soon as you pass by the "Oklahoma - Discover The Excellence!" sign, you spend the next 4 hours fending off death from some of the most unbearable highway in America. Then you hit Texas, it's suddenly smooth again. Right now it's even worse, because the whole of Okie's I-40 is under construction (I guess Tom Coburn decided to use that money after all).

Construction or not, though, I feel like Luke Skywalker when he's barreling down the Death Star corridor - needing to do what he needs to do and get the hell out (in his case blow up the Death Star and save the universe) - every time I pass a semi. You just never know, you try to get by them as quickly as you can, and occasionally they still flash their blinkers when you're about halfway up on them. Word - do they see me, are they blinking in anticipation, or are they about to go? I've had them start going on me in my little Volvo a couple of times over the years, and have to fend them off with the horn. Passing, I mean, not hanging out in their blind spot. But it's too terrifying, especially the part at the end when the air pocket sucks you up for that millisecond, and all you can do is ease through it and pray. No fun.

Relaxed driving used to be second nature to me, now it's going to take some time, I guess.

In short, the road used to feel something like this to me:



Now it's more like this:



The tie fighters are the semis. The semis, and those IQ 25'ers who slow down from 105 mph to tail you from two feet behind, because they want you to move. Even if the 4 cars in both lanes in front of you are going kinda slow, too (or if you're actually in the freakin' slow lane already). I swear, it's all I can do sometimes not to hit my brakes so they can slam into me and I can take their money.

That last line is a joke. I wouldn't do that, I'm just especially sensitive with aggressive drivers these days, knowing how easy it is for something terribly minor to go wrong, resulting in things very major. People should remember the immense mass, weight, and kinetic force of what they so callously weave and twist - sometimes push - throughout those lanes with. You ever accidentally bump a pole or something while backing into a parking spot? That's going at 3 MPH. Imagine swiping someone at 80.

Anyway, I'll get over it. It's part of the gig, I have to. And people think being a musician is all about making music...