RECORD REVIEW 3 THE SHINS "WINCING THE NIGHT AWAY"

I like the Shins. There...I said it. They are on that awkward 3rd CD thing that all bands that live that long must go through. It is a historically painful one because unlike the forgivable sophomore slump the third CD if bad, kills careers so there is a tendency to try to hard, be too clever and not do anything that is both cohesive and interesting. There is normally no reason to combine bouzakki, Gregorian chanting and the sounds of Sigma Chi fraternities boys breaking wind but bands have tried this approach and it is a mess.

The Shins have not fallen over this obvious stumbling block. They have some unusual songs and some instrumentation that is...interesting. A few songs like “Split Needles” sound more like “fingernails on chalkboard” with synth and James Mercers voice. As I see it the band IS Mercers voice. The songs are all tuneful and nonsensical enough to be open to any interpretation if you can indeed figure out what Mercer is singing about at all. All that negative stuff having been said, what a voice he has and there are some pop gems on this one.

The first cut “Sleeping Lessons” is of the indecipherable/over wrought genre. Skip it. Moving to the song “Australia”, it compared reasonably with anything on “Chutes Too Narrow” and the following song Pam Berry though a little mopey has a nice edgy cello which makes you think of teen angst and suicide and everything that is wonderful. The fourth song “Phantom Limb” is a strict winner and was released last fall as “THE SINGLE”. It is once again just sweet, well constructed pop that tunefully wraps around Mercers lilting disaffected voice....beautiful.

The CD does have more production and instrumentation the Chutes but holds up to listening over and over again and I have had it as a sound track for the last few days in my office and...well...you can work to it. What else can a boy ask for? At this early date it is the Album of the Year. Buy it. Smile. Be happy. It receives 8 Slingers out of ten. High praise indeed.

Dads 80

My Pop. He turned 80 on Monday. Thats old. Had me when he was 35. I would like to write a book about all the ways my father disappointed me...how he wasn’t there...but I couldn’t. He and me sainted mother had three kids and we are all still around. We are all still struggling with our faith. We are all still raising our families...living in St. Louis, holding down jobs...screwing up...sometimes not screwing up...generally getting along with one another...trying to be marginally productive members of society. I hope...I guess.. to live till 80 but what a blessing it would be to have three kids and seven grand kids and no major public traumas. It is kind of unbelievable. He has had a rough life. he has had a great life. A nice legacy of kids who love him and grand kids who love him.
Loving him has not always been easy. He was a hard successful man who never suffered fools easily. But...God is funny. And along with that great sense of humor God rounds us into form for the purpose he has for our lives. I know this through the privilege of watching God mess with my dad. He gave him an unhappy mom who could not show affection. He gave him an oldest son who wouldn’t listen. He gave him a younger son who would listen but would lie about whether he obeyed. He gave him a daughter and it really does not matter how you package a daughter...they are...daughters. He was wildly successful and retired by the time he was my age. Then he was wildly unsuccessful and had to work again...hard...at a time when he thought he could mail it in. God messed with him...and made him so much better. Made him kinder, gentler and so much more patient.
So we celebrated. His kids and their respective spouses took him out in a limo. Went to the Ritz, and had cocktails, went to Lucas Park and had dinner, went to the Chocolate bar for cocktails and desert...and then to Ameristar and gambled a little. We stayed up late and had a good time.
The next day we all went to Church together and our family had two pews reserved. The pastor acknowledged his birthday and our celebration. It was nice. As part of the sermon the pastor said,
“God loves us just the way we are...and loves us too much to let us stay that way.”
And although he didn’t mean it in that context he made me think of my dad...and me...and really all of us. I whine about my life a lot but when pressed I always tell people I am blessed. One of the reasons I am blessed is because of my family and one of the big reasons my family is so great is because of my dad. He changed...at mid life. He got better. He got nicer. Maybe it could happen to me. Even though it was my dad’s 80th birthday it is still all about me.

The Subpar Bowl

So, it is that time again. Super Bowl, historically one of the worst football games of the year, more likely to be a boring blow out then a good game. This year it is Bears v. Colts. The Colts are obviously a superior football team...and offensive machine...one of the greatest Quarterbacks of all time, a consistent scoring machine...until the big games. The Bears are getting 7 points. They unquestionably have a superior defense and they seem to show up every game. Marvin Harrison...great receiver...getting old. Their running back Addai seems to be getting better and better but is one to two years away and never played in a Super Bowl. Everything statistically says the Colts are a LOCK. Seven points is like 100 in the NFL. The only more convincing number would be 7 1/2. The Bears are walking dead with rex (the crippled wonder dog) Grossman. No matter what his numbers and record say... this guy is NOT a great quarterback. He might not even be a good quarterback. They do not know how to score a lot of points. They are however a group of love able guys headed up by a big cushy defensive wizard...Lovey Smith.

A lot has been made of specter of two black coaches in the Super Bowl where they have never had even one play before. How can people be so assinine? There are a lot of black NFL coaches. They are running more and more teams and they are very talented and running talented teams. What possible difference can it make and why does it even merit mention? And why aren’t more people pissed off about it? Anyway, that is a rabbit hole but seriously...it is an offensive conversation. Both Smith and Dungy seem like such genuinely nice guys and great coaches that it is a pleasure to watch them stand off against one another. They seem to like one another too. That is a good story.

So, The Man, Norman Chad says the point spread is generous to the Bears and that the game will be over...and I quote...”by the time Prince splits his pants at half time.” I thinkest not says the humble diner patron. I am sticking to the age old adage, defense wins Super Bowls. The Bears got the defense. Although the Colt’s defense has been showing up in the post season the Colts were kicking field goals for all their points till they finally shook the New England monkey off of their back. Not speaking about winning or losing...The Diner Review takes the Bears...and the points.

Mississippi Nights (the death of a friend)

It is not enough that we should lose Howard Hunt so early in the year but January 19th saw the closing of Mississippi Nights. I was not able to be there because of prior engagements in Hot Springs Arkansas with a 3 year old mare (but thats an entry for another day) but I am glad I missed it. The closing was a poorly kept secret throughout the fall as the “coming attractions” section in the Riverfront Times Dwindled down...and down...until the only thing left was the Bottle Rockets/Todd Schneifer two night party on December 30th and 31st of last year. I am sorry I missed that. By all accounts it was a blow out. The RFT chronicled all this for us and did a properly laudatory series of columns (and follow ups) on all the shows but there was something eminently miss-able about the final night on January 19 which sounded more like a maudlin hootenanny of St. Louis never was talent then a reasonably respectable send off to an old friend.
This was a venue that had seen...everyone worth seeing. Sure, Dylan and Neil Young might never have played there but if the place would have been open in the 60’s or 70’s you could not have kept them away. Seriously almost everyone played there and different people have different memories and priorities but to think of Mississippi Nights most people...we my people...think Uncle Tupelo. I did not see Tupelo there but I did see Wilco, Sun Volt the Bottlerockets and Golden Smog. The Jayhawks and Soul Asylum. Richard Thompson, T-Bone Burnette, Souther Culture on The Skids, Paul Westerberg, Blue Rodeo, Built To Spill, Cracker (opening for Counting Crows), Chris Whitley, Cursive, dada, Del Amitri, The Drive By truckers, the Frames (if these seem alphabetized it is only because I am scrolling through iTunes to help me remember), Freedy Johnston, Graham Parker, James Mc Murtry, The Lemonheads, Los Lobos, Lucinda WIlliams, Material Issue. Matthew Sweet, The Old 97's, Reverend Horton Heat, Seven Mary Three, The Silos and those are just the ones i saw that I can remember.

You do have to wonder whether Beatle Bob will have ANYWHERE to go. Seriously if the guy goes out and hears music everynight and you take away Mississippi Nights...what does he do? Where does he go? Should we putting a collection together? Should we be inviting him over to the house?

For years there were rumours of the clubs demise. In a city as screwed up as St. Louis there were all kinds of possibilities. A landing redevelopment...and my favorite...the Jacque Cousteau Aquatic Museum. That seemed perfect. On the banks of the Mississippi? What were they going to have, the worlds largest Catfish aquarium? Not that it would not have been attractive. But it of course was the fucking casino that eventually killed it. I do not want to rant. I like to gamble, but has there been a worse cancer on our city and state then these stupid casinos? All of these people who should not be betting...blowing disposable income and exacerbating already nightmarish financial situations. I know they say the money goes to the schools but I do not think we are spending another nickel with that income then we were before. They just made casinos as the way to fund schools so they could get over everyone's objections. They are awful...and now they have cost us the Nights.

I have a lot of favorite memories of that club and lots of good times. I probably saw more shows by myself there then I did with people. The favorite offbeat memory though was going down to buy tickets for The Lemonheads show and finding Evan Dando on the nod, lying in front of the door. I stepped over him.

The Tupelo thing changed a lot of music for me and watching all that alt country that sprang up became a very bad habit and brought me a lot of pleasure. 98% of the shows were all ages according to them and it took 800-1000 people per show. Site lines could be atrocious but if you got there early and got a spot on the floor there was nothing better. You had to make sure you stayed off Beatle Bob's corner because ducking his gyrations could ruin a show. Getting close enough that the guitarist could spit on you. Stealing the set list after the show, occasionally having a beer with the band...it was all good.

Forget the Kiel Opera House and the Fox and the American...forget even the late lamented Ciceros Basement Bar and the High Point.
Where do we go from here?

Where indeed? There have discussions about the club moving to the Grandel Arts District (does'nt that sound fancy?) along with the Creepy Crawl but...it seems hard to imagine. Of course they have to be ib the City. County cops would make mincemeat of most club goers at midnight on a weeknight. DUI revenue would skyrocket and local law enforcement would be heros. So we will wait. We will watch. We might even pray.

Official List of St. Louis "Diners"

So it comes down to your input dear reader...what are the "real" diners in St. Louis. I want your help...I NEED your help, America needs your help. If we do not get this list right then it is a complete retreat and the terorists win. I think that is what the President told us. Here for your review and comment is a list of St. Louis Diners which need to be visited, photgraphed, catalogued and reviewed. Four our purposes we are limiting the inquiry to the City and County of St. Louis. Below for your review is a partial list but I await to be corrected and where appropriate berated.

1. Courtesy on Hampton
2. Courtesy on Kingshighway
3. Billies in Soulard
4. Big Ed's Chili Mac Diner on Pine, Downtown
5. Spencers Grill in Kirkwood
6. Eat Rite on Vandeventer
7. Eat Rite on Lindbergh near Ronnies
8. Olivette Diner on Olive
9. Tiffany's Diner on Manchester in Maplewood
10. White Palace on Olive in Midtown
11. Hoagie Diner on Olive in Midtown
12. Former Chili Mac now Spencers in Clayton
13. Goodies Diner in North County
14. Big Ed's Chili Mac Diner on Broadway
15. The Buttery

Questionable:
1. South City Diner
2. Waffle Houses
3. Majestic Diner in West End
4. TJ's Diner in Concord
5. Place in Union Station that used to be O.T. Hodges

Purposely Excluded and PLEASE do not argue with me about this:
1. Uncle Bill's Pancake House
2. Mimi's "Diner" in Chesterdield Valley
3. That Big Thing That Says "Diner" up by the airport

These are important discussions. I need feedback. I suspect that I am forgetting a few and further (gasp) that there are several which have escaped my unblinking eye (see Lord of the Rings). Anyway... think on this. The list needs to be exhaustive. I believe one of them can be formally tackled each month and that means that I need to get to work for January's formal review. God this is exciting.

In Re: Hashbrowns

In regard to hashbrowns one MUST take a position. This is after all...The St. Louis Diner Review. Hashbrowns are one of the keys to any good diner. But what makes a hash brown? Wikipedia makes a nice stab which you can check out here:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hash_brown

But it is not decisive enough. It does not really take a stand on so many important issues. A lot of diners "say" they have hash browns and then you get "breakfast potatoes." * Potato chunks fried up. Everyone KNOWS these are not hash browns. these are breakfast potatoes for God sakes. Their still honorable...unless tainted with green peppers and onions at which time they morph into the heinous potatoes O'Brien. the Irish can ruin anything if given a chance to cook it.

The real hash brown is the shredded hash brown. Waffle House (The Walmart of Breakfast) serves them excellently and in a number of different forms. Sometimes they cook them into a cake but otherwise they are "scattered" (spread out on the grill), "Smothered" (covered with cheese), "covered" (topped with onions), "peppered" (with jelapenoes on top). Waffle House according to their web site has served over one billion orders of hashbrowns. It makes me tear up. You can check out other fun Waffle House facts here:

http://www.wafflehouse.com/funfacts.asp

So...we know they need to be shredded. The Chili Parlors in St. Louis serve a breakfast potatoe which are made up out of sort of an au gratin style potatoe which would be embarrassing but they do a nice job with them. I would suggest only getting them covered in gravy. Courtesy has good traditional hash browns which I once again reccomend with cheese and onions. Billies downtown does a breakfast potatoe but they kind of crush them and fry them up well so that they are almost edible.

I believe in the nobility of the hash brown. I believe in a hot griddle because that of course is key. I believe in an middle aged woman pushing them around on that grill, avoiding the breakfast sausage, bacon and eggs but using their grease. I will eat Mc Donalds hash browns but do not...believe in them.

*I had some criticism from the ever vigilant Mr. Tiemann regarding my use of "Potatoe."
From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
"Potatoe" is an archaic spelling of the word potato as a variant form, with the most recent usage cited from 1880: "She found the parson in his garden..making a potatoe pie for the winter." However, it is considered a misspelling in modern English. Although the English plural potatoes is spelt with an "e", the singular form is not, and no dictionary considers potatoe to be an acceptable modern spelling.
Former United States Vice President Dan Quayle became notoriously associated with this misspelling in a June 15, 1992 incident. Quayle went to a photo op at Munoz Rivera School in Trenton, New Jersey, where he was to officiate a spelling bee by drawing flash cards and asking students to write the words on the blackboard. Twelve-year-old William Figueroa wrote potato, but Quayle prompted the student to append an "e".[1] The incident briefly made national news in the United States and became a source of entertainment for the tabloid newspapers in the United Kingdom.
For the June 25, 1992 airing of The Simpsons episode "Two Cars in Every Garage and Three Eyes on Every Fish", Bart Simpson's opening blackboard punishment was hastily changed to read, "It's potato, not potatoe".

Rituals One

This weekend the St. louis Diner Review traveled to Hot Springs Arkansas for some golf, drinking and handicapping. Although all those activities went well I found myself on Saturday morning sitting in a big old ceramic tub at the Buckstaff (pictured above). The water coming from the 47 protected hot springs located along the lower slopes of Hot Springs Mountain maintains an average 143° at their source at an average flow rate of 850,000 gallons per day. sitting there I began to consider...rituals. This Diner likes his rituals...in an almost pathological and certainly mentally unhealthy way...and bathing at “The Spa” is a ritual among rituals. I am certain it seems like I am always defining things but good rituals...define themselves. The Spas at Hot Springs are all run by the Park Service who describes them...thusly:

“The Buckstaff Bath House still offers a traditional style treatment with its staff of highly trained and dedicated personnel. Offering you the privacy of individual tubs, with an all men's department on the first floor and the 2nd floor being dedicated to the ladies. To bathe at the Buckstaff, you need only present yourself during the admission times (no reservations or appointments accepted). All supplies and linen are provided to cover your self Roman style between your bathing stations (bathing suits optional). Each department has locking lockers and small valuables may be deposited at the front desk in private lock boxes. Some age and health restrictions may apply, your inquiry welcome.

Operating under regulations of the U.S. Department of Interior, National Park Service, the Buckstaff offers traditional Thermal Mineral Baths and Swedish style massages. Our services include a 20 minute tub bath at a maximum temperature of 100°, Hot Packs for a maximum of 20 minutes, Sitz Bath for 10 minutes, Vapor Cabinet (steam cabinet) for a maximum of 2 minutes with the heads in cabinet or 5 minutes in the heads out cabinet, finishing it off with a 2 minute maximum rinse in the needle shower. Each tub is equipped with its own whirlpool and may be used while in the tub bath. You may then top the whole experience off with a full body Swedish style massage making your visit to the Buckstaff the most enjoyable and refreshing part of your stay in Hot Springs National Park Arkansas. Please allow approximately 1½ hours for the entire process and longer during peak periods.”

This description does not do the ritual justice. You walk into that beautiful building above after parking somewhere in downtown Hot Springs (boyhood home of Bill Clinton) which is a truly charming place even on a rainy January day. There has been very little development downtown and it sits in a narrow (often flooded) ravine of the Quachita (waw-shee-taw) mountains and many of the buildings back up to bluffs blown out of the mountain. It is a dying downtown but charming and a little eclectic and is dominated by the two large hotel spas, The Arlington and The Majestic which have been there since... forever and certainly since there was still legal gambling in Hot Springs. I arrived with three gambling compatriots deciding to take a mental health break and refusing to golf in the rain with the rest of the tribe. You enter a small lobby and there is a que for the reception desk where they ask you what services you want. The “classic” along with a loofa rub clocks in at about $51.00. At the desk they take all your valuables and put them in a safe deposit box and give you a key on a band you can wrap around your wrist or ankle. They also hand you a grocery store plastic shopping bag with a loofa mitt in it. Once you pay if you are a man they usher you to one side or the other depending on the crowd. Both sides are a mirror image to one another. The woman ride in an old fashion steel grated elevator to pleasures above that I can only guess at.

Once you enter a greeter (in this case a Willie Nelson look alike...circa “Red Headed Stranger”) acknowledges you and marches you to a small screened in stall with a several lockers and picks one for you and slips another key over your wrist. He also hands you a cheap (but very clean) bed sheet telling you to strip, including your glasses, put everything in the locker, lock it and then let him know. After following orders you come out (in your own poor effort to wear the sheet toga style (ala Blutarsky) and he leads you to a large tiled room with much hissing and spitting of pipes. You sit on a wooden chair and he puts your name on a hook. You absently hold your gorcery bag with loofa mitt wondering whether anyone will come along and thinking how absurd you look sitting in this large room, naked but for a sheet (which you are still trying to arrange to look cool) waiting....

From here, eventually an attendant, in my case James, comes and greets you and tells you to follow him. He does not look behind to see if you are complying having no question of his authority. You walk past a long line of chaise lounges to a large stall about the size of a handicapped commode, but instead of a toilet there is a six foot ceramic tub...very deep. You stand there for a moment as James fiddles with the hot and cold water which all come out of a huge spigot. In the tub there is a large steel thermometer and what looks to be a small outboard engine. That is the whirlpool unit. James keeps the water running as he adjusts the temperature and takes a dixie specimen cup filling it with the mineral water (very hot) and saying...drink it all. And when you drink the warm water he refills it, hands it to you and says...again. You comply.
He then peels off your sheet, briefly examines your sad middle aged body (James by the way is a black man of indeterminate age between 40 and 68) and then he directs you to a stool to stop up into the tub and offers a supporting arm guiding you into the tub. You sink and the water feels hot but not too hot. I notice that the thermometer says 105. James hands me another cup of water which I obligingly down and then he makes sure to tell me how to settle into the tub and stretch out. James apparently is used to dealing with idiots like me. He takes the loofa and allows me to use it as a head rest and grunts approvingly at his handiwork and my ability to follow simple instructions.

You sit in the tub with your back to the entrance of the stall and so have no distractions but a clock about 15 feet up on the wall and the sound of other customers behind you. My ADD does not start to kick in till about 10 minutes when I start to rearrange myself out of pure boredom stretching...wondering whether the whirlpool thing will malfunction and electrocute me...pressing my feet against the jet out of the whirlpool and getting a free foot massage. And then I start to really sweat. Even though 105 is not hot....sitting there...hot water cooking inside you...you start to remove various parts of your body from the soup. You sit up straighter....you hang your arms over the top. You experiment with draping your legs over the edge...you sweat like a pig. Almost all good rituals have some quality suffering involved. (my opinion).

A few words about “the waters”. The water pours out of the mountain very hot. it has a huge mineral content and throughout the bath house everywhere the water has run for years results in calcification and it reminds me of Meramec Caverns or Onendaga Cave’s limestone formations. Anyway, the waters are thought to have healing and restorative powers both internally and externally. FDR swore by the place and throughout his life would come to the spas in hot Springs for relief from the polio he was afflicted with. It taste good and is bottled and sold by at least one company nation wide as Mountain Valley Water. It does not feel different on my skin but once again just knowing other people think it’s special...helps make it magical for me.

Eventually James comes back and he is ready for business. He asks if I hurt anywhere and I say, “No, I actually feel pretty goo”, but before I can finish he is nodding knowingly and saying my lower back seems really stiff and so he bends me forward a little bit stretching me out. Then he begins using the loofa mitt and begins a methodical scrubbing of my body making sure he misses you private parts but firmly scrubbing most of your flesh. I cannot lie, having this man rub my flesh feels good. Which brings us to another point. There is nothing sexual about this experience but it is not for the homophobic. There are a lot of naked men (most of us in various disrepair with a large range of obesity and sagging flesh) walking around and there are at least two instances where men are...rubbing on you.

Anyway...you forget about the sweating. James then helps you out of the deep tub and takes you over to a shower stall with water coming out at knee level into a basin with what appear to be 2X4 as a seat. James scrubs it in front of me with comet as I imagine awkwardly standing there and James works on my feet I guess. He then grabs me, turns me around and tells me “sit down just like you were getting onto your car.” I comply and sit on the bench as James explains that the sitzbath really works on that lower back pain and hemorrhoids (how does he know about those?) and he explains it helps “everything below the waist.” I shift there with hot water coursing off my lower back and ass crack. I can only imagine how ludicrous I look to the other man passing by trying not to stare. Once again I gotta tell you...it feels good.

James give the mineral water a long time to let it do his work and then gets me and helps me up and walks me to a steam closet. This steam closet is slightly larger then my close closet at home and it does not seal tight. For steam it has steaming hot minderal water pouring onto the floor under the bench you sit on which then....steams up. It has been doing it for years and there is a lot of calcification. At some of the old baths they used to have the classic steam closet which you sat in with your head out of the box and they closed it around you. So retro. James assures me that he will be back in two minutes....and then he leaves...and leaves me there for 5 minutes. It is not that hot but...once again you sweat and you keep sweating...It feels slightly dirty in there and looks dirty but when you rub your hands you realize it is not dirt...just more calcificiation from all the minerals. Thankfully before I go into a panic attack he comes back.

He then walks me over to a sink and takes another specimen cup, this time filling it with cold water which I guzzle confidently and then hands me another one...and then another one saying “again.” he then leads me to a chaise lounge where I lay on my coveted sheet. He walks over with two HOT towels and has me lean up and then he pack them under my back and leans me back down slowly...very hot. He then wraps me in my sheet and proceeds to drape a cool towel around my head like a hood. The hot/cold like good asian food is enticing and I laid there for quite a while. Sweating...a lot...back with this hot towel as a lumbar support staring at the same clock...sweating and wrapped like a mummy but not wanting to stick an arm or a leg out of my sweat casing because then James and everyone else who might look would see what a pussy I am...sweating.

James comes back and I assume he is enjoying the suffering he is imposing and knowing that he is taking care of me. He gets me up, removes the towels and takes me to another stall. This stall is filled with a contraption known as “the needle shower” which hits you with 360 degree pinpoint jest of water in about 5 rings circling your body while a gallon a second dumps on your head. The CIA would call it water boarding but it feels like a nice controlled drowning. Somewhere outside the stall James is manipulating water temperature in what I assume is a trained and therapeutic way. First warm...then hot...then cool. I spin making sure it hits me everywhere and then after two minutes I am done. James towels me off mainly concerned with drying my face. James tells me what a pleasure it was to be able to help me and makes sure I know his name so I can tell them at the desk what his tip is and he says he would look forward to seeing me again. I have the feeling that he means it and that there is a reasonable chance he would remember my name.

He leads me to the cool down room, kind of a waiting room with chaise lounges and I lay...wrapped in my sheet and wait. There is a gentlemen laying there with me in his sheet with the Mark McGuire fu manchu. We say nothing. Very little is spoken between the patrons here. Once again my ADD kicks in...huge...very tired of being here. Bath and everything with it is great but I remember that I don’t really even like massages and that I should have just gotten the bath and moved on. They take the guy waiting and two of my compatriots are brought in to wait also and it becomes apparent that there is only one masseuse and we wait and break the silence and chat a little. These guys are 23 and 24 years old and they are in awe of the process and it does feel great and relaxing and it is cool and I like it more thinking about the experience through their eyes.

Finally Taylor calls “BECKER”, and I am up for the swedish massage. Taylor is pleasantly gay in that southern gay way that is so inoffensive to me. He asks where I am from and what I do and we have an excellent conversation about St. Charles and Soulard and practicing law. he works on my back, comments on the dryness of my skin and at my request (because we are running late) hurries me through the process so he can get to the other boys. Massages generally are great but for me they are rarely life changing. This one is no different. It is a quiet finishing ritual that seals the deal.

I go back to my changing space, my body slightly greasy. I get dressed and head out to the waiting area...get my belongings and make my tips and are on my way. This ritual like them all takes you through a process and this process is one aimed at cleansing and renewal. All good rituals have a lot of details, a lot of subdelties and take you from point A to point B. I do not kid myself about the healing power of the water or the massage or anything else but I do feel better. And I like it.

So...What do you do about...Southpark? This is a big question as a parent but it is just the metaphor for a much bigger question regarding where you draw the line between parenting and...well... just hanging out. Southpark...I love it but it is a guilty pleasure. I do believe that they address is a funny, smart way a lot of the weird stupid things in todays society. Parents paranoia regarding childhood abduction, odd religions...including Christianity. global warming...hunting...homosexuality...racism...they cover it all and most of the time as i said they do it in a funny and smart way. but I am 45. I have a lot of life experience and know the irony involved. I know the creators hate conservatives...but they really hate liberals. I know when they have Christ, Buhda and others as the legion of super heroes that they do not mean disrespect...they mean to make me think about what I believe and why.

But what about my kids. I have been watching Southpark with my sons for...well for years. Do they filter out the crudity and baseness of it when they watch. For that, do I really filter it out myself? And Southpark is just an example for the many things I enjoy which really are...or might be...totally inappropriate for my children. Nusic with profanity and violence. Movies with explicit sexuality...where do you draw the line.

We try as parents to make the right decisions but often we make the easy decisions. I don't know what else to do and it does not feel like I really have choices but i do...I just do not have the discipline. So...I do what I can...think a little...pray a little...and watch Southpark, sometimes with my kids and sometimes I laugh my ass off. I am not sure that is all bad.

Record Review 2 Tom Waits "Orphans, Brawlers, Bawlers and Bastards"

Tom Waits
Orphans, Brawlers, Bawlers and Bastards
2006
Anti, Inc
What do you do about Tom Waits? Obviously he is the band leader for the St. Louis Diner Review but his “body of work” can most kindly be described as odd and somewhat inconsistent. The problem is that on almost every Album or CD he throws something that is just brilliant. In the last few years he gave us “Alice” and “Blood Money”, both released at the same time and although they had their moments could be described as less then compelling. The you have to reach back to 1999 to find a great CD in “The Mule Variations.” Now he gives us a 3 disc set. Double CD’s and even worse 3 CD compilations tend to be...self indulgent. CD’s are cheap and easy enough to produce and contain over an hours worth of recording time on each. If you have something to say write an essay or a short story. In this case Waits gives us all the brevity of a Russian Author with the equivalent of a 900 page tome. That having been said...I do what I always do which is to listen to a CD three times.
I started out with “Brawlers” which is disc one. Wow. This is some of the best stuff he has done in .Brawlers contains raucous stomps and up tempo jams. This is my favorite time Waits...romping along bellowing angrily at everything. It opens with the song “Lie To Me” where he admits to the woman in question, I”I don’t want to be told the truth.” And all God’s children say Amen. This disc does not have a weak cut. If you don’t know Tom Waits this disc is worth the price of all three all by itself. The CD is tight, bouncy and evocative. Mark Ribot’s guitar just shows why he is everyone’s favorite session guitarist.

The second disc, BAWLERS, is full of lyrical balladry. “You Can Never Hold Back Spring,” followed by “Long Way Home” just kind of break your heart. Something about that ugly...growling voice singing beautiful songs...yin and yang...blah, blah, blah. It is just really..compelling. Some really beautiful playing too. Understated, emphasizing his voice...you almost never notice how great the music is. The band could be playing for Sinatra or Torme on “It’s Over” and songs like “Down by the Train” and “Good night Irene” are just...classic.

The third, BASTARDS, is a hodge-podge of experimental tunes and covers. Many of the songs are outtakes from studio albums, while others are the results of outside projects or one-off oddities. Waits's unique sensibility is in full flower throughout the set: his gruff croon, barks, and howls. There is a lot of spoken word crap and narration and although interesting and as I said, "unique", it is not something you would put on in the background. It is too odd and disjointed yet, still Tom Waits. And when Tom Waits tells you that the little boy found the moon was made of wood and the earth was an overturned piss pot, as part of a bed time story... you believe it.

This is the guy who said in an old Rolling Stone interview I read...well, a long time ago...that he “has always been fascinated by the sounds coming from down the hall.” The insistent clanking of strange percussion which reminds you sometimes of those old radiators in our classrooms (do they still have radiators in old classrooms?) That would clank and moan as the steam filled them making moving metallic noises where you knew even a s a ten year old there was nothing metal moving...just the noise. and his evocative, detail-rich lyrics are all on ample display.

From the spooky rave-up of "Lie to Me" through the heartrending beauty of "Shiny Things" and the familiar strains of "Goodnight Irene," to his off-kilter cover of Daniel Johnston's "King Kong," ORPHANS is packed with spectacular surprises. This is good shit. 8 out of 10 Slingers! Which is unbelievable for a three disc set.

Personnel: Tom Waits (vocals, guitar, keyboard, percussion); Dave Alvin, Joe Gore, Larry LaLonde, Marc Ribot, Ron Hacker, Brett Gurewitz (guitar); Anges Amar (whistle); John Hammond , Charlie Musselwhite (harmonica); Ralph Carney (saxophone); Seth Ford-Young, Larry Taylor, Les Claypool (bass instrument); Casey Waits (drums); Bobby Baloo (cowbells); Gino Robair, Jeff Sloan, Stephen Hodges, Steve Foreman, Andrew Borger, Brain (percussion)

The Couch Slouch

So, who is the greatest American sportswriter and comedian and social commentator? Well the answer is easy if you read the Houston Chronicle's syndicated column "The Couch Slouch" or watch Celebrity Poker on ESPN 7 or even, for you guys who have read newspapers for 3 or 4 years remember the column he had titled "The Man." The greatest is indeed Norman Chad. Likely it is only because Mark Twain is dead.

The man comments on a lot of things but his passion is football. he makes a living announcing poker which would be a total waste of talent if it did not pay the bills and allow him to do a regular column. The man is more then just an incredibly hot and sexy package. The Man has had more wives then I have children (3 for me). The Man understands why George Bush would be having lunch with Tom Coughlin to discuss Iraq war strategy. Speaking of the Iraq war the Man has picked the Arizona Cardinals (that is right, BILL Bidwills Arizona Cardinals) as his team of destiny the last two years. (Stay The Course!)

His link is here and you will notice that I am quoted at the end of the article in the infamous "Ask The Slouch" segment.
http://www.chron.com/disp/story.mpl/sports/fb/texansfront/4438272.html
The Man is a God among men. I have had a irregular but always spirited email link with the Man along with deeply troubled friend and sometime breakfast companion Cary Mogerman (Super Lawyer, Academy of Matrimonial Lawyers, winner of the Shephard Professionalism Award, great person and reasonably good karaoke singer). We have successfully (somewhat) counseled the man through numerous marriages and disasterously bad career choices. I once had the benefit of having the Man drink cocktails with me at the bar at the Paris Casino in Vegas (I believed the Man had recently been operating as a poker "shill" at Binions.

In any case. The Man is unheralded and now...in his declining years. He needs your support. I urge everyone to do the right thing and contact their local papers and DEMAND that they begin carrying his syndicated column. The Man has done so much for American journalism. Lets repay the debt and for God sakes lets find him another wife.

The Troop"Splurge"

Sometimes....
I......
Scare......
Me!

So, last Wednesday we had the President tell us what we already knew. He is going to...indeed he has already authprized...a "SURGE." It is specifically NOT an escalation or so sayether no less then Condy Rice. So, this non escalaltion....a mere 21,000 young Americans is not indeed an escalation. We are only going back to about 150,000 troops and we have been as high as 160,000 so it really is not an escalation. It is just a continuation and reinstatement of stupid and...you cant fix stupid.
The whole concept is offensive. Somehow committing 20,000 more people to the fight is going to help the Iraquis "step up" and take over. It is a bad stupid lie told by desperate people in an attempt to salvage what was started and will be finished by a bunch of lies.

This is not a troop surge but an arrogant "Splurge" with the lives of other peoples kids. I do not think that the Preseident should bow to the will of the people when the people are wrongheaded but when the President has an almost unrivaled track record of being wrong at every turn...perhaps the "wisdom of crowds" is something he should pay a little heed to. And I...personally am sick of people saying "well no one has attacked us here in 5 years." That was accomplished when we were doing the RIGHT thing, the American thing, the sensibly agressive thing of going into a country that actually trained the people who attacked us and dismantling them. That is what a strong country is all about. Not this.

His speech Wednesday was a good honest speech. he said it was going to be hard, take a long time and be bloody. If only he would have told us that 4 years ago we might have never let him start this escapade. But real life does not work this way. It ignores the fact that he has less then two years till he is kicked out of the White House and saddles some other poor fool with the mess he leaves and it will be a colossal mess. "Stay The Course." They just never told us how long we would have to stay the course for. They ignored the fact that no occupying force ever wins unless they are willing to occupy mercilessly and criminally and totally subjugate the people there and intermarry with them and...well...one of the GREAT things about our country is that we do not have the heart for this type of shit.

You cannot even speculate about the damage this war has done to our country. We are going to eventually back out of there like embarrassed bullies to the cacophony of cat calls from friends and enemies alike and from all those countries that did not join our "coalition of the willing." I do believe the President had honorable intentions. He truly believed that we could have a stable democracy in the mideast. He truly believed this would change everything. He truly believed the small circle of believers and idealogues around him and fired everyone who disagreed as he lied and justified and kept us walking down this same road and for that history is already judging him harshly. Worst president ever? he gets my vote.

Devlin

Billies Diner on Broadway in Soulard...kind of.

So. Kid gets abducted somewhere in the outskirts. They identify a white compact pick up truck with a camper shell. Then...four days go by and kirkwood police stumble across the truck while serving a warrant in an unrelated matter in a rather marginal apartment complex in Kirkwood. They confront the guy at his job at Imos. He confesses. They go to his apartment and find not just the abducted kid, alive and well but another kid who has been missing for four years...apparently alive and well. Lets leave the 4 day kid alone. He was lucky. They found him quick, it is a beautiful story. A great, beautiful story. But what about the other kid. He has a stepfather, accosted and disappear when he is 11. He has a stepfather. He is form...Richwoods. He is now 15 and apparently had a lot of freedom and never worked ouyt a way to contact his parents or get back home. For one reason or another, whether it is Stockholm syndrome or a bad step dad he did not want to go home. I do not really want to see what the papers make out of this. The local TV guys have already made it insufferable. I watched the TV news last night where they could not decide what is the biggest story...the killer ice storm (not) or the MILLION DOLLAR bail of the child abductor? What a country.

Resolutions

This picture was taken in the Courtesy Parking lot on January 1, 2007.



So...halfway through January and it is as good a time as any to take stock in the New Year. Lets see..resolutions...revolutions...whatever. New Years is such a great, arbitrary, meaningless time to take stock so...why not take stock 13 days into the New Year. I am 13 days into 07 and, nothing is really changed because no matter where I go...there I am.
1. Exercise: Once. Played squash on Wednesday. That is not bad it's only the 13th.
2. Recommitting myself to work. Not really a chance.
3. Working "Smarter" instead of "Harder.": Hahahahahahahahahaaaa!
4. Laying off the booze: Well...I have not gotten drunk in the New Year yet....but...well...
5. Laying off the crack...well, I have not started that....yet.
6. Read more good books...well...that one is working slowly...I just am so depressed I am falling asleep at 10 each night.

So....13 days in...I would give myself a solid D for will power. Not bad young man...not bad at all. We will see where the rest of the month takes us. Next week I go to Oaklawn for opening weekend at the race track...I am sure there will be a lot of self control and discipline there.

On a brighter note it feels like I have some form of artheritis in my left ankle. Happy New Year!

Recipe

CHILI PEPPER POT ROAST
1 Arm Roast at Dierbergs.2.
2 HOT banana peppers and 3 jalepenoes.
3. 3 cloves of garlic !

4.Kosher Rock Salt
5.1 big white onion
6. A few sprigs of cilantro
7. Can of chipotle peppers in mole sauce
Pre-heat oven to 300 degrees. Take the arm roast and coat it thoroughly in rock salt. Take the banana peppers and cut into 3 or four long strips and TAKE THE SEEDS OUT! Chop the jalapenos however you like and you do not have to take the seeds out. Chop up the onion. Press the garlic onto either the roast sitting in the pot or into the chopped peppers and onions. Mix in the cilantro. Slice the roast on the top about ¾ inch deep and lay in the banana peppers and pack them into the sliced roast. Pour about ½ the can of chipotle sauce with a couple of the peppers on top of the roast. Put the rest of the mixture on top of the roast in the pan. Cook for three hours. Pull the roast out in pieces and split with two forks. Drain some of the liquid onto the roast in the container. The liquid should be very spicy and the remaining onions and peppers are fiery, I throw them away. Put onto hamburger buns or into tortillas with mild cheeses. It reheats well for three to four days either warmed up in a pan or reheated in the microwave. Its SPICY

Record review 1: Greg Brown: Evening Call

I listen to a lot of music and am sometimes called upon for recommendations which I do not make freely, not because I do not have good opinions but because music is a personal thing for me and a passion for me that if you don’t share it...my taste means nothing and will probably put you off. If Neil Young did not at some point change your life or guide your strife then your ability to understand the dreadful beauty of Dinosaur jr., Built To Spill or...a million other groups will simply not be there. So when people ask for pics I smile (pleased at the question) but knowing as I try to inaccurately assess their tastes that I will be unintentionally condescending and my rec ultimately unsatisfying. Alll that having been said...I love music and if your interested....
Greg Brown:
Evening Call
Red House records 2006
Greg Brown. One of our greatest most prolific living singer songwriters. “Singer Songwriter.” What a sick little classification that is. Some sensitive young boy or girl or...even worse some grizzled middle aged or letter, world weary, whiskey voiced moaner strumming somewhat inadequately on a guitar as they...impart unwanted knowledge of all the bad shit that has happened to them. Forget about love songs... this is white man blues and it is sad and troubling and sometimes....yes sometimes beautiful. Greg Brown...fish (trout, fly fishing) obsessed, religious, atheist, humanist, Christian fundamentalist confusaholic. His CD “Slant 6 Mind” has some beautiful stuff on it and every CD has something to unearth but damn this man is tired and yet full of love for everything life throws. He is a good guitar strummer but wisely on this CD hooks up with Bo Ramsey on the electric side and it helps. Brown is a poet before he is a songwriter and his song structure, lyrical choices and phrasing are as interesting as anything Dylan ever threw at us. There are of course songs about love and women and how they rarely hook up anywhere but your head. There is social commentary but it needs to be looked for an inferred as he describes the landscape. Occasionally he hits you over the head with something like this line from Cooneville Slough:
“We came out of the country and drove into the cityscape -Like every other one in America, it's a black and white town.”
That is fine but most of it is nuance. Bleak but...tinged with a little joy and a little pleasure at the struggle. Just enough anyway to make getting up the next day worth the effort. This is an album of back ground music in front of a fire, not talking much...staring...listening and exchanging some soft words and some smiles as he occasionally strikes a beautiful chord. It is not a gem but it is good. We grade hard down at the diner....6 1/2 Slingers out of 10.

What Is A Diner You Might Ask

A “diner” is whatever I prefer to think of as a diner. It is a very subjective definition. Generally speaking a classic diner has counters and booths and sometimes a table or two...but you HAVE to have a counter. The food also has to be cooked directly behind the counter.
If there is a kitchen...it ain’t no diner. A diner does not have to open 24 hours a day but it should or at the very least it should have formerly been open 24 hours a day before “somebody got themselves shot one night.” A diner cannot have men waiting tables. The waitresses cannot be attractive in any manner. Although a real diner may have a useless “no smoking” booth the diner MAY NOT be non smoking. If you banned smokers from diners they would by definition close because...well just look around at any diner. A diner might have more then one location but in this town never more then two. Denny’s is not a diner. Bob Evans is not a Diner and for God sakes Ihop is NOT A DINER.
I will entertain a debate at some point (primarily with myself) about whether Waffle House is a diner. A diner is a place which no middle aged, self aware, vaguely health conscious person should ever go without a fair amount of self loathing. A diner does not serve yogurt (unless fried). A diner at 6:00 A.M. should have a variety of empty beer, vodka, red bull and malt liquor containers in the parking lot. People frequently get sick in and around a quality diner although almost never because of the quality of a diners food. In St. Louis Uncle Bills is NOT a diner. South City Diner...NOT a DINER and anything West of 270 is certainly not a diner. In our town most quality diners are int the city and the reason for this is that City police have more to do and are less apt to sit outside the diner and arrest drunks as they pull in and out between 2-7 A.M..
Diners are dirty although the food preparation area is normally pretty clean. They are dirty because they cater to dirty, tired, sometimes drunk people and they serve a lot of them and do not pay their employees anything so their motivation is sometimes “questionable” especially when not related to a tip. Most quality diners do not take anything but cash. Most also have an ATM close by. Never use a bathroom at a diner, even to be sick in. The clocks at diners, unlike in bars are normally spot on.
A diners coffee is not that good or bad. A good diner should have a jukebox which is never loud enough at 3:00 A.M. and way too loud at 6:00. A good diner has a grumpy owner who drives an expensive car, lives in a nice house, takes in a lot of cash and has never earned more then 30k a year according to his tax returns. The anthem of every diner should be Tom Wait’s song, “eggs and sausage.”


nighthawks at the diner of Emma's 49er, there's a rendezvous of strangers around the coffee urn tonight all the gypsy hacks, the insomniacs now the paper's been read now the waitress said
eggs and sausage and a side of toast coffee and a roll, hash browns over easy chili in a bowl with burgers and fries what kind of pie?
In a graveyard charade, a late shift masquerade2 for a quarter, dime for a dance with Woolworth rhinestone diamond earrings, and a sideways glance and now the register rings and now the waitress sings
(chorus)
the classified section offered no direction it's a cold caffeine in a nicotine cloud now the touch of your fingers lingers burning in my memory I've been 86ed from your scheme I'm in a melodramatic nocturnal scene I'm a refugee from a disconcerted affair as the lead pipe morning falls and the waitress calls
(chorus)

Good stuff? Indeed.

A Thought About The Courtesy Diner

On a more important note I had breakfast at the Courtesy Diner on Hampton this morning. I will begin formal reviews of each Diner down the line but will give intermittent reports on my progress as I go.
One of the great things about the Courtesy on Hampton on a Saturday morning is that if you get there early enough you are likely to catch some professional girls coming off their shift in Sauget. The Courtesy is hard to drive by on your way from the river to west county and this morning we had two young ladies, giggling and slurring as they ate their breakfast loudly making demands on occasional trips to the juke box... But perhaps I judge too harshly and these young ladies were not strippers but you do not see that much in the way of mini skirts, fishnets and five inch heels outside of that....environment.
It all ended badly with one of the young ladies throwing up her breakfast in the parking lot as the regulars looked on over their papers and one well meaning young man offered to call a cab and was loudly told to go screw (slightly rephrased) himself. This never happens at Bob Evans.
God Bless the diner!

Book Review Number 1

Jonathan Trooper
“Everything Changes”
335 Pages

This book was an excellent way to start the year. It is kind of a sissy, wimpy boy book about “what men really think” about relationships and their fathers and urinating blood. Yes that’s right the book features rather prominently the following themes:
Death of friend
Engaged to beautiful women who loves you but your in love with dead best friends wife.
Death of a best friend
estranged father coming back
Slightly mentally retarded younger brother
Family....and
Blood in your urine
It is a good story. They all live in new York and the main protagonist is a “middleman” and lives with his very rich friend, “Jed” and both are recovering from the death of their friend “Rael” who dies with our hero on their way home from a bad gambling night in Atlantic City. His estranged father shows up the week of his engagement party...he has blood in his stream and it all flows to a rather neat conclusion where he ends up with the right girl and a much better understanding of family. There is a reasonable amount of truth and insight in it and it is well written and has it’s funny spots. On our St. Louis Diner review scale of 1-10 Slingers this rated a 7.5 Slingers.

2006 MIX CD

ST.LOUIS DINER REVIEW

January 3, 2007

A new year. A new project. It has occurred to me over the years that there is no authoritative source on St. Louis Diner’s. Similar to my long held lament regarding the lack of meaningful coverage on dive bars. We can only deal with one nightmare at a time so for your 2007 pleasure I give you the St. Louis Diner Review. It will rarely discuss Diners but when it does it should be...insightful. Instead of focusing solely on Diners we will have my occasional thoughts on Books, CD’s and...politics....because 2007 is after all.... an election year. This space should also give me an ability to post pictures from my sweet little digital camera. In order to get things off to a good start I give you...my compilation of 2006 music releases.

1. Solomon Burke: “That’s how I got to Memphis”. Solomon Burke the self proclaimed inventor of rocking soul. Began his career as a gospel singer and...well, never really made it. But he is still around and kicking and this CD is great and this song, a cover of the great Tom T. Hall song. So many songs about love, what you do for love, where love takes you and how stupid love is...and how sublime but this is one of the best. Sweet tune...sugar sweet voice and so much gospel soul. It is all good.

2. Bob Dylan: Rollin And Tumblin: His latest “Come Back” is of course nothing of the sort. The critics loved it, several people bought it...it must be a success and it must be awesome but the fact of the matter is that it is heavy on four chord progressions and bar blues...mixed in with his failing voice but....really some of it is very sweet and it is definitely an excellent CD. Not Love and Theft and certainly not in line with his best work but...even when Dylan mails it in he is awesome and this is a LOT more then mailing it in.

3. Johnny Cash: “Loves Been Good To Me.” I guess we are a little heavy on covers but the fact is that all of Johnny Cash’s best songs are covers. This is a Rod Mc Kuen song popularized by another dead crooner...Frank Sinatra. This is the last...”American V.” CD out of the sessions he did with Rick Reuben. Reuben took a failing legend and with his voice and great song selection did more then rehabilitate but made his last work his most consistent and for a lot of us his best. This song and the whole album is not up to the first several of the American Recordings but serves as a good introduction. If you do not own them....be embarrassed.

4. Los Lobos: “Luna” off of their much acclaimed CD “The Town and The City” These boys are just flat out the tightest band around. Playing in almost the same form since 1973 Cesar Rosas guitar chops and vocals and David Hidalgo’s ability to play everything while singing like the Latino Curtis Mayfield makes for high quality music loping between Jazz, Country, alt-country, rock, blues....everything...at once. This is nothing more then just...a really nice song.

5. Neil Young: “Looking for a Leader.” If you cannot tell we are weighting this CD towards the old guys first. Neil with 6000 albums over the last million years is definitely...a survivor. He was a little self righteous about this CD because he said no one else was doing it (meaning protesting the war) but that fails to take into account Steve Earle, Mike Doughty, Bruce Springsteen....and the list goes on and on. Still, you have to love a self righteous Bush hater... and I do. Neil is full of condemnation, feedback and 4-4 time. Rock on.

6. Elvis Costello and Allen Toussaint: “rearer to You.” Speaking of self righteous it is hard to leave Elvis out. Very little in the way of genres left untapped or causes left untouched by him but...shit...well, what a voice. The Frank Sinatra for an age only he writes most of his own stuff and is a brit (small b). This Katrina eulogy “The River in Reverse” is a great one and easy to listen to as it reccessitates Toussaint’s career again and not with any unpleasant results. His piano, organ and vocals works nicely with Costello’s own band The Imposters as well as the Crescent City Horns. Too tame for the good but this is some fine muzac.

7. T-Bone Burnette: “Baby Don’t Say You Love Me.” A rockin song by one of the most talented, critic’s darling, unknowns of our time. His high point acclaim wise came as the genius behind the “Oh Brother Where Art Thou” soundtrack. He was Costello’s guitarist for much of his best work and tours and plays about as hot a guitar as any white man alive. This song sounds like a cover but only because it is so tuneful. Sort of a mix between “Baby Please Don’t Go,” and “Don’t tell Me You Love Me” (was that by Nightranger?) Anyway, the whole CD is brilliant the way only Burnette can be brilliant.

8. Frank Black: “Elijah.” Frank Black back recording solo CDs after his very lucrative reunion tour with the Pixies turns out a nice little 2CD release, “Fast Man raider Man.” The CD is very consistent in that is top quality, great songs, great musicians and a little punch but of course ultimately it is the words and Black’s plaintiff voice that makes it all worthwhile. It is a little too much material but each disc has at least 4 really good songs that make it worth the price. One of the best releases of the year.

9. Yo La Tengo: “Mr. Tough.” Already a college radio hit from their fabulously titled “I am not afraid of you and I will beat your ass.” Good stuff. Very poppy for Yo La Tengo but they always seem to throw in some gems like this. It could have been a top 40 song in the 80's or 90's. Our favorites from Hoboken, Ira Kaplan and Georgia Hubley along with James Mc New rock on and on and on the album there is plenty of self indulgent noodling and feedback but...Mr Tough is tough.

10. Cracker: “Where Have Those Days Gone?” David Lowery remains the funniest man in rock and roll and this CD pounds it out as well as any. This song is a typical rollicking California road trip for a misplaced east coast boy. With his guitarist Johnny Hickman ripping off some nice riffs he tells us about heading down south of San Diego with my “only Jewish, Mexican friend.” And of course you believe it.

11. Built To Spill: “Liar” This is my CD of the year. Built to Spill is really just a guy named Doug Martsch from Idaho. He has been spinning out Neil Young jangle pop with crunchy guitars for about 15 years now. The new CD is awesome and Liar is not the strongest track on the CD but it is one of the only ones short enough to make a CD like this. He combines the great guitar hooks with a slow lonesome caterwaul that... can make you very sad and at the same time...bouyant. Buy it...do it today.

12. Alejandro Escovedo: “Break This Time.” Escovedo has put out some of the best singer songwriter stuff from Austin (and that is saying something) over the last ten years. With his past bands including the Nuns, Rank and File, The True Believers he finally came to his own as a solo artist. He almost died two years ago from hepatitis C complicated by life style issues relating to...his lifestyle. This CD, “The Boxing Mirror” is as introspective and sullen and morose...and joyous, as anything you might find. He gets into lost relationships and his dad and...well, just about everything that brought him to the door of death, and back. Not always easy to listen to but always worth the effort.

13. Patty Hurst Shifter: “She Like A Song”. Not just a band with a great name. These guys raise the southern jangle pop banner to some serious heights. They really rock with hard rifts that bounce along and when they sing, “She’s like a song, and I’m like the radio, turning me on...” It is just some really good stuff and these guys are not that well known. I doubt they ever break through but...

14. Lucero: “What Else Would You Have Me Be?” Memphis own Lucero takes us to Asbury Park with their release “Rebels, Rogues and Sworn Brothers.” It is good stuff and it rocks along like no ones business. I really like these guys and although I like their softer stuff with some lilting guitar more then this, the CD is critically acclaimed and has a lot of good rock songs on it. Don’t ignore it.

15. Cat Power: “Hate” The pretentious self involved Chan Marshall from her CD “The Greatest.” I have a tendency to hate acts like hers. She likes to not show up for shows, cries on stage...mails it in from a position of drunken stupor but sometimes turns in some very painfully good work. You always have to turn the speakers up and can rarely catch the words but she leaves no doubt that life has wronged her in some fundamental ways that even the redemptive powers of rock and roll cannot mend....

16. M. Ward: “Go To Home.” All the songs on this CD sound alike to me and I have as large a problem with Ward as I do sometimes with Cat Power except...oh..yeah...he is an awesome guitarist. The music is always deep, textured and distorted and his vocals rarely raise above a deep scratchy breathy mess. The CD is very even and picking a best song is tough but this one, like his earlier CD’s that should just be picked up and listened to a few hundred times.

17. Okkervill River: “The Presidents Dead.” Will Sheff has become one of my favorites. He released this on a limited edition EP this year and it was...really good. Normally he just writes songs about murdering woman but this song about where he was when the President Got Shot on the tarmac...oh, well it has not happened yet, but this song meanders and is everything that a good ballad should be. Look out for this band and look out for him on solo. They both should albums out in 07.

18. The Decembrists: “Oh Valencia.” More whiny, beautiful cure inspired angst from the Decembrists with their new album, “The Crane Wife.” This is on everyone’s top ten list, at least everyone who is cool. If nothing else you need, as a 45 year old man to buy it to keep up your indie rock cred. Seriously, it is a very good CD and this song is not too shabby either.

19. Oh No Oh My: “Walk In The Park.” I asked my son to throw in one of his favorites for the year. Normally he goes for huge, mopy ensembles of 12 or so musicians making a horrendous racket with at least on cello like “The Arcade Fiire” or “The New Pornographers but this song which sounds like the Turtles was his pick. Sounds like a 60's vocal band but it has nice pop sensibilities. Cannot speak for the rest of the Cd but I am not sure that I need to at this point. Give it a spin.

20. Tortoise and Bonnie Prince Billy: “Thunder Road” Tortoise has redfined staring at your shoes synth/trans/guitar/mope for...well, for far too long. Bonnie Prince Billie (aka Will Oldham) is one of my favorites so it was going to be...”interesting” to see what they did together. The album over all underwhelmed me but this cover of the Springsteen song that got me through junior year of high school seemed as the master card people say....PRICELESS.



These of course are not in order. Tune in soon for my first book review of the year. Should be....fascinating.