For some reason, Brandi Carlile has flown under my radar for a good 15 years. Granted, her feet are rooted in country music, even though she’s not necessarily a “country” country artist. I have opinions about country music — and she articulates in her book some of the things I find problematic about it — but she has performed on awards shows (that I somehow missed) and in collaboration with musical artists I adore. I somehow missed all that until just recently.
I saw her perform a Joni Mitchell song for the Kennedy Center Honors, which aired in December. I have since learned that she performs Joni’s entire Blue album. Then I saw her New Year’s performance with Miley Cyrus. And I was stunned. Who is this? Has she been here this whole time? How did I not see her before? I decided not to be mad about it but to be happy that I had something good to discover in 2022. Listening to all her music was like having a wild bird land and settle in my hand for longer than I would have ever thought possible. And it felt like I held my breath the whole time.
Listening to her book was a special treat. At the end of every chapter she sang a song or two or more. Every musical artist’s memoir should be done like this. Give me a chapter on your life, then play me the songs you wrote about that chapter of your life. And joke about Elton John if you can. I bought the Kindle version of Broken Horses, hoping to find a photo of her Honky Cat getup. Sadly, it wasn’t there. But her book and her music … what lovely things to put out in the world. Experience them if you get a chance.
Remember how I took Charming Marie to Norway? Well, I thought I’d take her to New Orleans with me last month. (Yes, that’s a blue cow covered with the Blue Dog.)
But wait! Looky here! There’s Marie … for real! She flew in from Houston for the weekend. I was in NOLA for a journalism conference.
That’s Ricky. He took our picture. Yep, it was game day. The Saints played the Texans.
Justin Bieber certainly doesn’t need my help. But still. Y’all act like you’ve never seen the likes of him before. Seriously? Ever heard of Donny Osmond?
I <3 Twitter. Don’t you? It is SO full of awesome. And, OMG, the music. I follow some of my favorite musicians on Twitter, and I’ve found some great music I probably never would have found otherwise. The Snake Charmers? Hello. Rock!
I’ve followed Choo Choo, a band from Switzerland, for a while (@choochootheband). I finally ordered their CD, and it arrived the other day, so I listened to it. Oh, what fun. They describe their sound as 1960s teenage beat and Indie pop. And, yeah, I hear the 1980s resurgence of the 1960s in there. They remind me just a touch of Southern Culture on the Skids (SCOTS are way more hillbilly, but something is similar, especially the frantic drums) with a dash of The Finnsters, who could do a mean Steppin’ Stone back in the day. They’re working on a new album right now, and I think it’s due out later this year. Go, Choo Choo!
(Speaking about SCOTS, did I ever tell you about them, Skipper’s and Stephen King? Eh, another day, then.)
I saw Taylor Swift on Saturday Night Live the other night. While she played her guitar and sang, I thought, ah, to be 19 again. How exciting things must be for her right now. Typical thoughts of someone old enough to be her mother, I suppose. But, wow. She’s getting hit from all sides these days.
Kanye West hijacked her VMA moment in the spotlight when he jumped on stage, grabbed the microphone from her and told the world (or at least that part of it that still watches MTV) she shouldn’t have won.
Wynonna Judd said too much when Swift swept the CMA Awards, calling it “too much of a good thing too soon” for Swift.
I’m not sure what kind of problems West has, but a 32-year-old man stealing the thunder from a 19-year-old? Shame on you, Kanye.
Wynonna? Since when did you decide what’s best for someone else? Come on. You were in your teens when you started out. You “drove your car” the first year you were out? Swift delivered demo tapes to producers her first year out … when she was 11. Yes, you “apologized” later, but you know what? Instead of smelling like desperation, you really should have acted like the older professional you are and shared some encouraging words with the next, great, young talent. Shame on you, Wynonna.
Let me just get this out of the way. Mr. Jones, it’s amazing that you’re still walking the earth, considering all you’ve been through in your almost 80 years, and I’m glad you are. You’re a legend. The end. Amen. However … you really should pick on somebody your own size. Shame on you, George.
Y’all? Just because you have an opinion, doesn’t mean you have to express it out loud, whether you’re on the record or off. (I’m looking at you, too, Mr. President.) Silence really can be golden. Or at least it can save you from making an a$$ out of yourself. Just saying.
I’ve been following Marie of The Snake Charmers on Twitter (@Snakecharmers) and Facebook for a while. I’m not sure how I found her, but she’s fun. I’d sampled her music here and there, but I just bought her CD, “Been Gone too Long.” (I first read that, “BEER Gone too Long.) Good stuff. Good, good stuff. Next time I’m in Houston? I’d love to see them live … and buy Marie a margarita.
As for Willie Nelson & Wynton Marsalis, I bought their CD the same time I bought The Snake Charmers. I tell you what. They go well together. Both sing the blues. And, wait … what. You didn’t know Willie & Wynton had a CD? Yeah, OK. I laughed when I first saw that. But I tell you what. YUM. That’s what.
I met Wynton Marsalis in Thomasville, Georgia, when I was living in Tallahassee, Florida, after what was — I swear — THE BEST CONCERT EVER. It was in the auditorium of the old grade school where my dad taught fifth grade during the first year of integration in the schools there. I hadn’t been in that school for 20-some years, but I remembered being in the auditorium the minute I stepped inside again. It was a small venue. Comfortable. Intimate. Memorable.
In any case, if you like the blues, go get some from Marie, Willie & Wynton. They serve it up … hot.
