Dear John Conquest, We did not know each other well. I write music, you wrote about music. I sent you music, you listened to that music. I played music, you invited me to play music for you. And yet…. My […]
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Oh fuckin eh. Is it May already? And mid-May at that? I had hoped to get to this sooner but see I been holed up in a tiny rural Oregon music classroom that my husband n I painted purple back […]
I read an article from NPR titled: Who Needs Drugs When You’ve Got Music? The answer, as it turns out? Nobody. Under the right circumstances, states the cited study, music has the same effect on your brain as drugs. And not […]
I don’t know about you all but 2012 kicked my ass. I hate to be narcissistic but not more than I hate to be dishonest (plus, I’m a musician, so you’ll indulge me a little bit, won’t you?): my Best […]
When Johnny and I first moved into our house, our friend, bassist Rick DeVol, and his wife brought us a house warming gift. It was a tiny Russian Sage plant with lace foliage and delicate purple flowers upon pale stalks. Rick […]
I don’t know why I ever wasted my time on musicians who don’t go for it. I used to believe that the world began and ended with Ani Difranco. After all, when I was 15 she gave me my first […]
I told Jonathan Byrd that I was going to write a live music review for him. Then I went and watched him. Then I couldn’t write a damn thing. I hate flowery reviews. I hate know-it-all reporting. Jonathan Byrd in […]
The review is old, this I realize. However, this was a killer show and as I know Ms. Jewel and her band will be touring the US extensively this summer, I hope that this will push some of yall to […]
Rebirth’s Labor Was Short(Originally written for Ticket Files, The Register-Guard, Eugene, OR)April 11th, 2012 You know you’re getting old when you look nervously from your husband to your beer to your watch that reads 9:15 p.m. and think: “I thought […]
The Wood Brothers Transcend Again (Originally written for Ticket Files, The Register-Guard, Eugene, OR) 02/08/2012 I have become a critic. No, not the kind you’re thinking where every pitchy note sung or overly anticipatory rim-shot played is marked in my […]
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