While I have my reservations about the Grammys as a reliable form of recognition for music, it's still gratifying to see Norah Jones ring up four nominations. As the old saying goes, "even a blind squirrel finds a nut once in a while". Here's an article in today's USA Today, in case you haven't read it. She's Ravi frigging Shankar's daughter. That blows my mind.

In case you're wondering where the heck I've been today, well, it's none of your gosh darn business.

Aww, c'mon, I'm only joshin' around. I took off work today to help my daughter through the complicated process of Freshman orientation and registering for classes. Today was her OAR day at Western Ky. University. We also helped her move into her dorm room, met her roommate's parents and just generally did the parental thing. They've been busy on the Hill since I was enrolled there a scant two years ago. I spent a great deal of time looking around at where they had done construction here and there. We are now faced with the dreaded "empty nest" syndrome; we're coping so far. It's been three hours.

Comics reviews tomorrow. I'm tired.

I had forgotten all about this before I noticed it over at A Small Victory.

Sorry about the picture quality, it's a scan of a booklet page that I did for a Elvis mix CD I made a while back. I slapped a Photoshop filter on it. Best I could do on short notice.

Happy Bacardi Show Birthday to ya, King, wherever you are.

People send me stuff. I go check it out. If it's interesting, I pass it on, that's how it works. The redoubtable Mistah Tabor sent me this. I have done no research into its validity, I leave that up to you, gentle reader. Another one of those things that, as the cliche goes, make you go "hmm". I have no trouble believing its claims, but then again I'm predisposed towards disdain for the Bushes.

I'm first and foremost a Mac guy. I've used them both at my job(s) and at home since 1991. Don't understand why more people aren't, herd mentality notwithstanding. I'd be super excited about this if I could afford to buy any of it.

Looks like it's gonna be another one of those nights where I think I'm done writing, then I go and sit down to watch TV, and it occurs to me to look for something online, and when I go wherever then I wind up going somewhere else, and...I'm sure you know what I mean. Then I pass it on to you lucky boys and girls out there. Then I wind up going to bed about 1 AM and feeling like death warmed over all day the next day. Well, the cycle ends now. After this.

Found a link to Modern Drunkard Magazine's site over at Erosblog. Modern Drunkard Magazine. Is that cool or what? Great article there about Absinthe. The Hemingway quote in that piece is a hoot.

Music today, besides the Christmas haul which I'm still getting to know: Four Seasons-Genuine Imitation Life Gazette.

This is one of my all time favorite comics covers. Spectre #8, by Nick Cardy, from app.1968. Maybe it's those force lines, or that dramatic finger pointing at YOU, or the modified logo. Whatever it is, it's a kick ass cover, if you ask me. Maybe I should do a weekly feature- covers I love. One a week. Anyhoo, this is, of course, © DC Comics Inc.

Is it that time already? The new Diamond Shipping List is out, and I'll be getting:

100 Bullets 41
Fables 9
Hawkman 11
JSA 44
Vertigo Pop: London 3
Powers 27
Daredevil 41 (so this is weekly now?)
Killraven 4

Looks like another 20 dollar week. I have got to cut back.

Kinda chalky.

Excellent Buffy episode tonight. I'm trusting Giles a bit more...it would indeed be the most obvious thing to have him be a manifestation of the First Evil, which leads me to think that they won't go that way. I'd still like to know how he managed to avoid decapitation... As always, lotsa yuks to go along with the "who's really who" uneasiness.

I wonder where the hell Faith is during all this? Besides off making movies, that is.

I just wish I could watch an episode of BTVS without wondering why her jaw doesn't get broken when a monster that just powderized a concrete block with one punch hits her, and how she never seems to break any bones when she hits them, or why, when you become a vampire you automatically become the second coming of Bruce Lee, or why nobody ever drives around in Sunnydale in the early evening when eyeless zombie monks go walking all over the place, and where the hell everybody's (well, we know about Buff and Dawny's) parents are and why they never call their kids, and why the hell people want to live in Sunnydale anyway, with its presumably astronomical death rate...and why this silly show so convincingly coerces us to suspend our disbelief and accept these unbelieveable goings-on.

I know, I know. It's only a TV show. Shut up, Johnny, and enjoy it for what it is. And I do.

"God will not suffer man to have the knowledge of things to come; for if he had prescience of his prosperity he would be careless; and understanding of his adversity he would be senseless."

You are Augustine! You love to study tough issues and don't mind it if you lose sleep over them. Everyone loves you and wants to talk to you and hear your views, you even get things like "nice debating with you." Yep, you are super smart, even if you are still trying to figure it all out. You're also very honest, something people admire, even when you do stupid things.

What theologian are you?

A creation of Henderson

Found this over at the Leptard's joint. I know less than nothing about Christian theology. Heck, I'm not even all that much of a Christian. It just looked interesting.

While I'm flattered that Neilalien has chosen to link to me, and quote me, if you've come here after clicking the aforementioned link, know that my quote was taken out of context. It makes me sound a lot more anti-Journal than I really am. My decison to stop buying TCJ regularly had less to do with its overall editorial slant and more to do with simple economics. The perceived negativity and cynicism was indeed a factor, but not the only one. I still buy the occasional issue, like I said in the full quote, when it features an creator I want to read about and I have a light spending week.

Scroll down ten posts to read the actual piece in question, and please check out the comments where Bill Sherman, the Pop Culture Gadabout (and former Journal contributor), and I discuss it further.

Just wanted to set the record straight. Neilalien has no comment function on his site for me to argue my case over there.

Sleep? Who needs sleep?

My friend and coworker Mike Cary sent me this link, but it's been so goddamned insanely busy lately around the ol' salt mine that I never got around to checking it out. I promptly forgot about it until I saw where CzelticGirl also mentioned it.

Ever of the philanthropist bent, I will now pass this wonder link on to you. This is for Epitonic, a really nice looking site for free MP3s. They've got a Soft Boys track I'm going to download very soon. Go!

What? Still here? Whilst restlessly clicking around on OPB (you know, Other People's Blogs) I also found the cute I Wish,You Wish, a listing of other bloggers' birthdays and Amazon.com wishlists, with all the appropriate linkage. Although I use my wishlist mostly as a reminder system, it might be neat to place mine proudly with others'. Anyway, while I decide, you might want to check it out. Go! Go!

I will retire now. 6 AM comes quickly, you know.

I just figured out how to strum most of the chords to the Beatles' Good Night. I have been walking around singing this to Mrs. Bacardi and my daughter. I don't think they like it. I'm having a little difficulty with the "Dream sweet dreams..." part. Oh well. Tomorrow, as they say, is another day.

Just wanted to share.

One more thing, then I'm done for the evening. As reported over at Pulse, it looks like the excellent Comic Book Artist magazine will get a new publisher in June. Jon B. Cooke will still be on board, but the emphasis will now be on individual creators rather than a mix of creator pieces and overviews of various publishers over the years, and the cover price will go up from the already high $6.95 to $7.50.

This is not good news to me. I have enjoyed the previous issues a lot, and many of the best ones dealt with lesser-known comic lines like the Tower or Harvey books. Changing this to featuring the "sexy" artist of the day, a la recent spotlights on Adam Hughes, Mike Mignola and Jill Thompson, might make sense from a business standpoint, and for all I know will usher in a new, golden age for CBA, but it's a leap farther away from what I loved about the magazine in the first place. And they also may have effectively priced themselves out of my range.

Music today: The usual CDs from my Christmas haul, Robyn Hitchcock's Globe of Frogs (wanted to listen to this after checking out Globe of Blogs), and one of the all-time great 70s cheeseball AM radio hits, "Love Grows (Where My Rosemary Goes) by Edison Lighthouse. Man, I love that song.

Enough.

Oyasumi Nasai, y'all.

Picture swiped from the Unoffical Paul Westerberg Home Page, taken by Bob Hyland.

Well, that's nice, JB, but when are you going to spout off about Paul Westerberg's albums like you promised?

Wait no more. Paul's latest, released as a twofer with its immediate predecessor, which initially saw print under his secret-to-nobody nom de guerre "Grandpaboy" is titled Stereo/Mono. Or it's called simply, "Stereo", with a bonus disc enclosed which just happens to be the Grandpaboy album "Mono". Or whatever. Of course, Westerberg came to notoriety, if not necessarily fame, with his previous band, the raucous, too-punky-to-be-Rock and too-rockish-to-be-Punk Replacements. At first, the 'Mats specialized in arrogant, goofy, snotty, who-gives-a-fuck rock n' roll, but then Paul realized he had a knack for writing aching, lovely ballads, often with a slight countryish twang, which made all the critics sit up and pay attention. After that, the 'Mats and Paul's rep grew, often considered by many to be the Stones to R.E.M.'s Alternative Beatles, and they released three classic LPs (Let It Be, Tim, and Pleased To Meet Me) followed by two vaguely disappointing ones (Don't Tell A Soul, the almost-Paul-solo All Shook Down). Eventually, the band seemed to tire of courting fame one minute and running away from it the next and the loud, sloppy rollercoaster ride eventually ground to a halt in 1991. He went solo, like everybody thought he would years before, and released two overproduced, compromised-sounding albums for Warners which absolutely no one liked and fewer heard, let alone bought. His biggest problem, it seems, is that it was no longer 1985 and people expected something more from someone with his obvious gifts, but nobody knew what. Paul himself, to me, sounded confused, like he didn't know how to do anything else but what he did and couldn't make people like it. He was let go by Warners/Sire, and signed to Capitol records a while later. I thought his next album, 1996's Suicane Gratifaction was a remarkable effort, all things considered...full of more great lyrics and melodies that the last two albums combined. It even survived the heavy hand of Uberproducer Don Was. Most disagreed with me, and the album was a flop, but I for one was very encouraged. Westerberg was let go by Capitol shortly thereafter, and emerged not long after with a sloppy indie record, the first under the pseudonym Grandpaboy. While it wasn't bad, and certainly rawer than his previous solo stuff, it was still lacking that certain something.

Now, this past year, he's resurfaced with the aforementioned double CD set. Strangely enough, the Mono half is the most developed, features a full band, and rocks the hardest. Stereo basically sounds like a set of demo recordings, with minimal accompaniment. I found myself wanting to take the two discs and shuffle them together like cards, to get a mix of styles. I might still do this with the ol' CD burner. There are great songs on both discs, and Paul sounds more confident than he has in ages, if still a bit petulant and glum. I especially love "Silent Film Star" and the opener "High Time". Stereo has its share of nice songs, but they're so underdeveloped that it becomes a bit annoying. I liked the cover of "Mr. Rabbit", and a couple of others like "No Place For You" stand out as well. If you're curious, and you are predisposed to like the Replacements, then by all means check this one out. I seriously doubt that it will sell any better than its predecessors, or will even win him many new fans. I like it, but I'm one of the converted. Typically, one wishes for a lot more but I for one am glad Westerberg still cares enough to make the effort. We may never get another Tim, but those only come along every so often anyway.

Some love for Leo Sayer



I remember reading somewhere, in somebody's blog, where 70s icon and Aughts has-been Leo Sayer was getting some badmouthing. Now, I can understand this, and have in fact badmouthed him myself on many occasions after hearing his lame mid-to-late 70s (i.e., anything from or after "Endless Flight") music.

But there was a time, boys and girls, there was a time...when our Leo had pretensions. And was partnered with songwriters like Adam Faith and Dave Courtney that helped him realize those pretensions. Mr. Sayer released three albums, Silverbird, Just A Boy, and Another Year, that were on a par with almost anybody that was trying to write and record serious music. Oh yeah, and there was another album custom written for Roger Daltrey in 1973 which many feel was the best thing old Goldilocks ever did without Townshend. All were done with that classic drum/bass/piano/guitar sound, somewhat folkish and garnished heavily with strings, that many, many other pop musicians of the day like Randy Newman, Elton John, Alan Price, and others used. Swear to God, some of these songs are almost Nick Drake-ian. These songs, on these albums, had substance. They were clever and witty, and often ("Giving it All Away", from Just A Boy via "Daltrey", an excellent example) very moving. Just A Boy is his best, in my opinion, almost a tour de force for the diminutive singer and his cohorts– a far cry from the disco piffle he was to turn to after the commercial failure of Another Year. After that, he hooked up with Harry Nilsson and Ringo Starr's best producer, Richard Perry, and threw all of his serious ideas out of the window, like so many of his peers- say, Elton, Rod Stewart, and so on. The rest was, as they say, history...at least until he wore out his welcome in the early 80s. Ironically, that most vapid of musical decades had no use for this now most vapid of musicians.

It's a common musical perception failure among many otherwise fine and knowledgable people; they tend to remember only the most immediate memory of a particular artist or a general impression cultivated over time. Anyone that cares to remember Sayer remembers "You Make Me Feel Like Dancing", but no one seems to remember what may have come before. Hell, apparently most have never even heard what came before, even the huge hit "Long Tall Glasses". Selective memories are easy. People like easy. Just like Sunday morning.

Sigh. I know, I know, who really cares, Johnny? Who really gives a flying fuck about Leo fricking Sayer anyway? Does it really matter, in the scheme of things and in this post 9/11 world we live in? I suppose not. But it still think that no matter how inconsequential these things may be, if I can add a little clarification and set the record straight then I'm a little more sane. And sanity is a worthy goal, I feel, that I continually strive for.

Shamelessly pilfered from Sharpeworld: The Trouser Press Cover Gallery. I never read it myself, limiting myself to Creem, Rolling Stone and Crawdaddy, but I enjoyed looking at the covers and reading the comments.

Sat up way too late last night watching reruns of the Gong Show on Game Show Network. For a good part of the Seventies, I would come home from school, make a sandwich, and watch the Three Stooges, Match Game and Chuckie Barris' infamous talent show. Warped me, I'll tell you. Then there was the Big Show at 4 PM on Nashville channel 5, which showed, more often as not, monster movies from the 30s, 40s, 50s and early 60s along with Elvis flicks and other great stuff. Those were the days.

Also watched the Chuck Barris True Hollywood Story on E! TV. What a life that guy has had. All this attention is, of course, because of the new George Clooney film based on Chuckie's bio, "Confessions of a Dangerous Mind". I haven't read the book or seen "Confessions" yet, but I hope to at least see the film soon.

I sure did love the Gong Show, though...just a full 30 minutes of absurd insanity, especially in the mid-to-later years, in which Chuckie just went nuts, wearing strange hats, shirt unbuttoned to his waist, and mumbling constantly while clapping and pointing. I loved Gene Gene the Dancing Machine, the Unknown Comic ("Hey Chuckie! Have you ever had sex with your wife in the shower?" "No." "Well you should! She loves it!"), Jaye P. Morgoan (who got fired for flashing audience members. Twice.) and all the strange acts, some of them actually pretty good, that they had. Hell, I even liked the Gong Show Movie, a disaster of biblical proportions. It was lowbrow humor, trash tv perhaps, but it wasn't as cynical and mean-spirited as much of what goes by the name of "reality TV" these days. We'll never see its like again, that's for sure!

Playoff predictions for today's games, as promised:

Browns at Steelers: The spread's waaay too big on this one. The Browns always play their opponents tough, and the Steelers rarely live up to expectations. Still, I like the Steelers' defense against playoff virgin Kelly Holcomb. Steelers 27-23.

Giants at 49ers: The Niners have looked all sorts of bad lately, and the Giants are playing like they're on a mission from God, and I don't see that changing. Giants 31-14.

Now THAT'S what I'm TALKIN' about!

I'm actually at a loss for words. The Falcons came to play tonight. I thought that if they played their A game and got some breaks, they could perhaps squeak one out...but never did I dream that they would go in to Lambeau Field and smack the Pack around. The Packers beat themselves a lot as well...anytime you turn the ball over five times to your opponent's none, you're gonna be on the short end nine and one-half times out of ten.

That's step one. Now we'll see what Philly's got. Oh, and Michele: I'll be in touch.