Crackity Jones' Diary

The Old Man Taught Me Well

As predicted on this blog, Dan Wheldon has won the 89th running of the Indianapolis 500. I wish I could say it's because I have great skill at picking the winner of IndyCar races, but that would not be true. So many things can happen with 33 cars in a 500-mile race, but luck was on my side today. After the race was over, the first thing my Dad said to me on the phone was "did you have any money on him? You should have." His pick, two-time winner Helio Castroneves, finished 10th. Over the years his guy has come out ahead of mine more often than not, so I'm not going to toot my own horn too much. It's always fun to pick a winner, but I'd still trade it for being able to sit down with the old man and watch the race together.

In other Indy news: Unless you never watch TV or read a newspaper, you probably knew that there was a woman in the field. Twenty-three-year-old Danica Patrick was making her first start in the Indy 500, and news reports leading up to the race have mentioned little else. She had a great day, especially for a rookie. She became the first woman to lead a lap in the Indy 500 on lap 56, and after some late luck and brilliant strategy led again in the final 10 laps. Wheldon passed her with six laps to go on his way to victory, but Patrick still finished fourth, which is where she started the race. Now perhaps the media can focus on Patrick's driving skills rather than her gender. But after spending the past 11 years in the newspaper business, I doubt it.

Have a safe and happy holiday.

Gentlemen, start your nostalgia

Sometimes it's the little things you miss the most about home.

Believe me, there's plenty I miss about Maine: hunting and fishing, trees and my family, for starters. I always get a little extra homesick on Memorial Day weekend. Aside from the very important opportunity to remember those who gave so much so we could have so much, the weekend brings the running of the Indianapolis 500.

The Indy 500 probably isn't a real high priority for a lot of folks (aside from the hundreds of thousands who flock to the Indianapolis Motor Speedway each year). The average racing fan in America is more likely to be a member of NASCAR Nation. In the Moores house, we grew up with Indy. Dad always watched the race, and whenever it was possible, we watched it together. Since I left the state in '99, we haven't had the opportunity. We still talk before the race, to compare predictions (the race is in about two hours, but I'll go on record for you: I think Dan Wheldon will win) and during the race if there's a significant event (amazing pass, frightening crash, somebody's pick goes out). We always talk after the race to compare notes on whose predicted winner finished best (he almost always has the edge here).

Fortunately, I've still got my father around. I'm hopeful that in the near future we'll even find a way to watch the race together. So many people this weekend are remembering traditions learned from their fathers (and mothers) who aren't here to share in them anymore. Take a minute to remember them, too, and all of those who sacrificed everything to preserve our way of life.

Crackity's Got a Brand New Bag

Good morning, dear readers. I've got good news for those of you who don't get enough music content here. Starting this morning I'll be contributing on Thursdays to a site called HickoryWind.org. It's a meeting place for fans of Americana, alt-country and bluegrass, and I'm pleased that they've asked me to help out. Over at HickoryWind, you'll find some other folks who you might have already met through this blog: Larry, the godfather of HickoryWind.org, and Stacy, who is my partner in music-consuming crime from way back. Even though I'll only be posting on Thursdays (for sure), HickoryWind is about the music 24-7. There's a real good vibe over there, so I hope you'll join us. If not, you can still find me right here.

Yours truly,
Mr. Jones

Declaration of Independents

If I didn't know better, I'd swear that Steve Jobs (the evil, monopoly-seeking prick that his is) has launched a massive conspiracy to make sure buying music the old-fashioned way becomes increasingly difficult for me. OK, members of the iCult, just simmer down now. Don't go flooding my blog with comments. I'm just saying that I'd find Jobs more likable if he showed interest in working with the other companies out there to make other players work with iTunes. Can you imagine a world where we only had one CD player to choose from? Besides, we have an iPod in this house, and my wife is very happy with it.

Even if Jobs isn't behind all this, it still ticks me off. The first assault is on my wallet. Today was the release date for the new Robert Cray ("Twenty"), the new Shelby Lynne ("Suit Yourself") and the new Son Volt compilation ("Retrospective: 1995-2000"). That's a lot of sweet, sweet music for one day. It's also a lot of sweet, sweet cashola to shell out of pocket in one day. In a way, I suppose it's my fault for having eclectic taste. But that dog's not gonna hunt. I need somebody to blame. The Man will do.

So I decided to bite the bullet and buy all three. I head off to Tower Records to make the purchases. I get off to a good start when I reach the top of the escalator and walk right into Shelby Lynne (I wish). You know, the Shelby Lynne CD. And it's on sale. Everything is going pretty well so far. Because I've been at this for a while, I know this all but guarantees a problem. I look over the rest of the "new release" area and there's no sign of Robert Cray or Son Volt. So I swallow my pride and to to the register to ask. The young lady at the register is nice, but obviously has never heard of Cray because she asks me to spell his name. The computer shows it's in stock, so she tells me I can check in new releases or go check in blues. Thanks, because I hadn't thought of that on my own. Fortunately, I find a cart loaded with CDs that are waiting to be put out on the shelves. After just a few seconds of searching I find the Cray CD. But still no Son Volt.

Just then, a guy with a bandanna on his head comes along and starts wheeling the cart off (probably to hide the CDs from the paying customers). I really want to start my question with "Hey, Aunt Jemimah," but think better of it and mind my manners. So I ask him if he's seen the new Son Volt in his travels. When he tells me he'll go check on the computer, I know it won't be easy. After I have to tell him that Son Volt is two words, he tells me that they have nine copies on order but none in the store. He then gives me a little education by telling me that "sometimes they push back the release dates." Thanks, bub. I guess I'd be more receptive to the tip if I hadn't had to spell "Son Volt" for you. Two out of three ain't bad for Meatloaf, but for me it's a less-than-satisfying trip to the record store.

In their defense, the nice young lady with the pierced lip and Uncle Jemimah tried to help me. It just seems like when I worked at a record store I made more of an effort to know what was out there. They certainly can't be held responsible for what the store had in stock. Either way, I had to have that Son Volt. So I drove to the local big box store. Don't worry, Stacy, it wasn't Best Buy; the boycott is still intact. Circuit City had the disc, and they had it for a good price.

There's not much of a point to this story, but it's one I could tell often by just changing the names of the CDs I was looking for. What I'm trying to say, if you're interested in my advice, is that it makes a lot of sense to go to an independent record seller if you have one near you. It will cost you more, but independents are usually staffed by people who love music. They'll also make an effort to have what their customers are looking for. It's well worth an extra dollar or two. I don't have a lot of stores I can recommend, but if you're in the Virginia Beach area definitely go see Barry at Birdland Music. If you live near Nashville, Grimey's, The Great Escape and Phonoluxe are all outstanding. For any Mainers that are reading this blog, it's pretty hard to beat Bull Moose Music. If you have an indie record store you'd like to recommend, by all means click on "comments" below and share the wealth.

I've only had time to listen to the CDs once, but the early returns are good. My early impression is that they range from very good (Lynne) to excellent (Cray) to out-friggin'-standing (Son Volt). They're helping me forget about the hassle it took to find them.

10 Songs I Wish I Had Written

Did you miss me? Don't answer that.

Forgive me, father, it's been a week since my last post. Thankfully, there's no confession for the lapsed blogger. Laziness accounts for most of my absence, but I also was struggling with my topic. The Bruce Springsteen show has me thinking about songs and their meaning and what they mean to me. Needless to say, I'm jealous of songwriters of Springsteen's caliber. Still, I find myself feeling more admiration than envy when I hear a good song. I've heard a lot that I like. Here are 10 I'd like to share with the class. They aren't my 10 favorites. If such a list could be made, I'd be changing it every five minutes (if not more frequently). They're just 10 I like to hear. Maybe you'll find something in them, too:

"Big River," Johnny Cash -- A list of my 10 favorite Cash songs might be a fun one to draw up, but it would more likely bring agonizing pain. Choosing one to put on this list was excruciating. I love the sense of hot pursuit in Johnny's voice. You know come hell or high water, he's gonna catch up to that girl. The rock-steady backing of the Tennessee Two doesn't hurt, either.

"Carl Perkins' Cadillac," Drive-By Truckers -- DBT are bringing back three-guitar Southern rock in a big way and plumbing the depths of Dixie (the good and the bad) with cinematic skill. They're also achieving a level of credibility among critics that even the best Southern rock bands never had. Mike Cooley gets extra credit for tackling one of my favorite topics -- the birth of rock and roll (at least in the official, history-book sense) at Sun Studio -- without getting sentimental or schlocky.

"God Only Knows," The Beach Boys -- More specifically, this was a Brian Wilson piece, with lyrical assistance from Tony Asher. Uses the voice of the Beach Boys' secret weapon, Carl Wilson, to great effect. The soaring vocals and harmonies are beautiful. If you don't own this song, get it. If you do own it, go play it. Loud.

"Land of Hope and Dreams," Bruce Springsteen -- I touched on this one in my review of The Boss' show last week. I'm bowled over by his command of Woody Guthrie's territory, and I have a soft spot for train songs. This one sounds old and new at the same time. At a time when this country is so divided, and people insist on perpetuating that red state/blue state bullshit, we need more songs that are colorblind and inclusive. Whether you like Springsteen or not, he wants you to climb aboard the train. We've come a long way, and we've got a long way to go.

"Matchbox," Carl Perkins -- Because of the way the stars aligned, Carl Perkins more or less took a back seat to Elvis in rock 'n' roll history. He doesn't have to take a back seat to anyone when it comes to rockabilly or songwriting. The man was a great songwriter and a pretty good guitar player. You've got to be doing something right to get The Beatles (no slouches themselves as songwriters) to cover two of your songs. "Matchbox" is as good as rockabilly songs get. And without Perkins there would be no George Harrison as we knew him.

"Rock This Town," The Stray Cats -- Brian Setzer certainly drew from Perkins and many other rockabilly icons, most notably Eddie Cochran. "Rock This Town" is a perfect distillation of his influences that was a big hit in the 80s. No rockabilly song has made as big a mainstream splash since. I'm still waiting.

"Someday, Someway," Marshall Crenshaw -- Crenshaw hasn't been blessed with many hits, which is a shame because he's a craftsman. This is the perfect pop song in every positive sense of the word "pop." The best song Buddy Holly never wrote.

"Tecumseh Valley," Townes Van Zandt -- Steve Earle famously said that he'd stand on Bob Dylan's coffee table and proclaim Van Zandt the world's greatest songwriter. Songs like this are the reason why. A sweet girl comes to a crushing end in the Old West. Van Zandt could break your heart with a gentle melody and the turn of a phrase. As long as people listen to music, he'll have a fanatic following.

"The Weight," The Band -- Robbie Robertson and the rest of The Band were very essence of Americana (despite being mostly Canadian) before there even was such a genre. "The Weight" captured a mythical America inhabited by a colorful cast of characters. Somewhere tonight an aspiring songwriter who doesn't have enough originals to fill out their set is playing this song.

"Waitin' For Somebody," Paul Westerberg -- Westerberg could have quit music and rested on his laurels after his work with The Replacements, though they probably drank up what little money they made. Instead, he's had a successful second act on his own. A lot of the die hard Mats fans think he sold out because he can afford to eat now, but his solo stuff just goes to show what a great songwriter he always has been. He's got the guy-girl relationship troubles down, which is how this song (and "Dyslexic Heart") wound up on the "Singles" soundtrack.

For the Sake of the Song

Bruce Springsteen
Saturday, May 14
Patriot Center, Fairfax, Va.

It's often said that the best songs can be stripped to guitar and voice and still be effective. I certainly think that's so. I've long had dreams of living the troubadour's life, playing and singing my way through the cities and backwater towns of America with a guitar, a harmonica and a rugged pair of boots. My meager guitar skills and even worse voice make that a pipe dream. So I'm envious of those who can pull off the traveling-songwriter gig. I was enthralled by watching Bruce Springsteen do it on Saturday night.

Springsteen has walked a winding road to rock stardom. From a wordy "New Dylan" in the early '70s to an anthemic rocker through the late '70s and early '80s to a cultural phenomenon with "Born in the U.S.A." in 1984. He laid off the E Street band and went his own way for more than a decade. With the band's successful reunion and world tour to support post-9/11 salve "The Rising," his career has come somewhat full circle.

Throughout his career, though, there is one side road Springsteen has gone down from time to time -- that of the introspective singer-songwriter. In 1982, it was on the album "Nebraska." In 1995, "The Ghost of Tom Joad." Last month, Springsteen again went solo on "Devils & Dust." All three efforts have been in the vein of two of America's greatest storytellers in song: Dylan and Dylan's idol, Woody Guthrie. After Saturday's performance, I'm more sure than ever that even if you think he's been lobbying for it, Springsteen has earned his place alongside Guthrie and Dylan in the pantheon of America's great troubadours.

To support the largely solo "Devils & Dust," Springsteen has been touring solo and playing smaller venues than he would with the band. The intimate nature of the shows serves the material, which on Saturday highlighted people's struggles to save or reclaim their souls.

He drew heavily from the new album, which accounted for 10 of the 25 songs. The title track, about a soldier in Iraq, wonders "what if what you do to survive kills the things you love?" It's a legitimate question. "Matamoros Banks" is written from the point of view of a man at the bottom of the Rio Grande river and follows him backwards until finally he is standing on the Mexican side, looking across at the lights of Brownsville, Texas, and steeling himself for the risky swim to a better life.

Springsteen also pointed out his exploration of the relationship between sons and mothers. "Black Cowboys" is about a mother keeping her inner-city child in the house for his safety and allowing him to get lost in books about the Old West. The mother takes up with some street hustler and the son takes the stepfather's dirty money and slips off in the night for his own journey westward. In "The Hitter," a wayward son comes home and we hear the conversation he has with his mother through her locked door. I was most touched by "Jesus Was An Only Son," which is my early favorite on "Devils & Dust." For all that has been said about Jesus (and all that has been done in his name), it can get lost in the shuffle that Jesus was Mary's son. Frankly, like a lot of his songs, I don't know how Springsteen sings this one. My heart is torn out every time he gets to the line "A mother prays, 'sleep tight, my child, sleep well. For I'll be at your side. That no shadow, no darkness, no tolling bell, shall pierce your dreams this night.'" I'm unashamed to tell you that my eyes well up every time.

Springsteen also revisited material from his last album, "The Rising," to great effect. Though it was a rock album, the post-9/11 themes of "The Rising," "Lonesome Day," "Further on Up the Road" and "Paradise" were as effective and emotive performed solo. 

Because of the intimate setting, and Springsteen's choice to perform material on guitar, pump organ, piano and electric piano, the songs rather than their original arrangements became the focus. He seemed to take great pride in reshaping his work, and commented at the end of the night about having fun stripping the songs down to find something new in them.

After opening with a fairly straightforward reading of "My Beautiful Reward," (though he played pump organ, not guitar) the reinvention of older material began in earnest. "Reason to Believe," from "Nebraska," was recast as a growling harmonica blues snarled through a distorted Green Bullet microphone and complete with foot-stomp accompaniment. The only problem was that the lyrics were largely incoherent and I had to look up the setlist online to determine what the song was. Perhaps it was just an acoustic problem with the venue. I'd love to hear a studio version, although I'd miss the visual impact of Springsteen stomping and wringing out his song in that slumped-over, vaguely Tom Waits-ish delivery.

"Reason to Believe" wasn't the only song to get a stylistic makeover. He accompanied himself on banjo for "I'm on Fire," recasting the "Born in the U.S.A. single with an Appalachian flavor that did nothing to dampen the song's sense of yearning. It might well have intensified it, as it was easy to imagine Dock Boggs performing the material. This only goes to show that many of Springsteen's songs are timeless, working with a '30s presentation as well as they do with a modern one. Believe me, he's got a great Americana album in him just waiting to get out. If anyone reading this has the juice to get The Boss in the same room with Sam Bush, Tony Rice, Jerry Douglas and Bela Fleck, please make the calls.

The older songs weren't spared. "Wreck on the Highway," an already sobering tale of how fast life can slip away, was even more harrowing on electric piano. Same for "The River" (another one that gets me misty), which became even more heartbreaking on the piano. "The Promised Land," as anthemic a piece as Springsteen has ever written, was slowed to a crawl and driven by a thrumming beat rubbed off the strings and tattooed on the top of his acoustic. Instead of the flared-nostril defiance normally snorted in the lines "The dogs on Main Street howl/'Cause they understand/If I could take one moment into my hands/Mister, I  ain't a boy, no I'm a man/And I believe in a promised land," we got a chance to feel the desperation instead. I'm grateful for the opportunity.

The song I had most hoped to hear, "Land of Hope and Dreams, was delivered in the encore. It's imagery is rooted in the past, but it speaks to me clearly as I sit here about what it means to be an American: "This train ... Carries saints and sinners. This train ... Carries losers and winners. This train ... Carries whores and gamblers. This train ... Carries lost souls. This train ... Dreams will not be thwarted. This train ... Faith will be rewarded. This train ... Hear the steel wheels singin'. This train ... Bells of freedom ringin'." Call me old-fashioned, but I damn sure had a lump in my throat. Mark my words: people will be singing this song for generations, just like they'll be singing Guthrie's "This Land is Your Land" and Dylan's "Blowin' in the Wind."

Springsteen closed with a cover of New York synth duo Suicide's "Dream Baby Dream." On the surface it seems like an odd choice to end such a night. After a little thought, though, it made all the sense in the world. It has few words, but the three in the title are all you need. The best songs always have had something to say.

Setlist: My Beautiful Reward**/Reason to Believe/Devils & Dust/Lonesome Day/The Ghost of Tom Joad/Long Time Comin'/Black Cowboys/Silver Palomino/The River*/Wreck on the Highway***/Part Man, Part Monkey/Maria's Bed/Dry Lightning/Reno/Paradise***-*/The Rising/Further On (Up the Road)/Jesus Was an Only Son*/Leah/The Hitter/Matamoros Banks//I'm on Fire****/Land of Hope and Dreams/The Promised Land/Dream Baby Dream**
*=piano
**=pump organ
***=electric piano
****=banjo
(Setlist borrowed from backstreets.com. Visit the site for much more on Springsteen and the "Devils & Dust tour.)

My 10 Favorite Guitarists

There's nothing better than a "greatest guitarists" list for starting an argument. Remember the last time Rolling Stone tried it a couple years ago (The 100 Greatest Guitarists of All Time)? They took some heat from their readers, but in the guitar magazines they just got shredded (pun intended). I'm going to take some of that out of play by giving you my 10 favorites. It doesn't take into account who was the most influential or who broke new ground first. It's just the 10 I like to listen to most. Like any of my top-10 lists, it's subject to change about four times before you finish reading it. This list was so difficult to make that I couldn't make it without referring to a handful of guitarists. Maybe there will be a post about my next 10 choices later. But now, back to the music. Here are my 10 favorites, with a suggested tune to check out if you don't want to take my word for it:

Duane Allman -- A master of the slide guitar. His searing solos on the early Allman Brothers albums are why I can't go too long without listening to "Live at Fillmore East." You can't really talk about Allman without mentioning Dickey Betts, the other half of one of the greatest guitar tandems ever. Allman also deserves mention for stealing the spotlight from Eric Clapton on Derek and the Dominoes' "Layla and Other Assorted Love Songs."
Suggested listening: "Statesboro Blues"

Chet Atkins -- "Mr. Guitar" didn't deal in flashy fretboard pyrotechnics. He was as smooth a stylist as you'll ever hear, though. His fingerstyle technique was silky, and it was just as enjoyable to watch him (on TV; never live, unfortunately) because his fingers that weren't playing a note were moving to the next position so he never missed a beat.
Suggested listening: "Country Gentleman"

Lenny Breau -- Clearly a disciple of Atkins, Breau took the fingerstyle approach to mind-boggling new heights. Mastered the art of playing a bass line on the lower strings while accompanying himself with the melody on the upper strings. Breau frequently sounded like two guitarists playing a duet. You might never have heard of him, but he's revered by guitar geeks and jazzers all around the world.
Suggested listening: "Visions"

Eric Clapton -- Clapton is one of my biggest guitar influences. My first electric guitar was a Fender Squier Stratocaster that looked just like his famous Strat, "Blackie." I like his early work best, when his mission was bringing blues to the masses. He's gone a little too far into "adult contemporary" for my liking, but I still get excited about a new Clapton disc because I know there's going to be that one moment where he cuts loose with that undefinable Clapton Sound that gives me goosebumps.
Suggested listening: "Crossroads"

Robben Ford -- This is another guy who doesn't get much play in the mainstream music press, but I've never played his music for anyone and had them not like it. Some guys have blinding technique and others play with a lot of feeling. Few successfully combine the two. Ford does, with skills and soul to spare. And how many people can you name who have recorded with Bob Dylan, Kiss and Miles Davis?
Suggested listening: "Chevrolet"

Danny Gatton -- I've been a fan ever since hearing a recording of Gatton's "Nit Pickin'" that was included in a Guitar Player magazine. It's a five-minute lesson in the history of electric guitar. He could shift styles at will in the same piece of music and was equally at home playing straight-up rockabilly as he was playing sophisticated jazz. I always wanted to get do the Washington, D.C. area to see Gatton play. I got here too late. He killed himself in 1994.
Suggested listening: "Nit Pickin'"

Mark Knopfler -- One of the most tasteful players in the history of rock and roll. By using his fingers rather than a pick, Knopfler has a feel for the guitar that allows him to coax hair-raising tones out of it. Since disbanding Dire Straits, Knopfler has gone on to great success as a solo artist and writing music for movies, further proof of his ability to evoke a mood with his playing.
Suggested listening: "Sultans of Swing"

Tony Rice -- With sincere apologies to Doc Watson, who is a giant in the history of the acoustic guitar, and Clarence White, who is probably the greatest flatpicker that ever lived, I'd rather hear Rice play bluegrass guitar than anyone. He makes no secret of Watson's and especially White's influence on him, but he has incorporated their styles into his own, which features blinding melodic runs and an impeccable sense of timing. He's as good a rhythm guitarist as a lead player, which is rare in any style of music.
Suggested listening: "Lost Indian" (which also features Watson and Norman Blake, no slouch himself)

Brian Setzer -- I think Setzer gets unfairly written off sometimes as a novelty act because he helped bring back two styles of music that were not in vogue at the time -- rockabilly with the Stray Cats in the '80s and big-band swing with his Brian Setzer Orchestra in the '90s. Weird Al is a novelty act; Setzer can flat-out play. He brought jazzy chords to rockabilly and lightning lead guitar to big-band music. That implies greatness to me.
Suggested listening: "Sleepwalk" (BSO version)

Stevie Ray Vaughan -- Another huge influence in my teen years, when I (mostly) avoided hair metal by immersing myself in the blues. Eric Clapton and Stevie Ray Vaughan were the biggest reasons for that. The first time I heard Vaughan's "Pride and Joy" coming out of the little speaker on my clock radio is still one of the most exciting music moments I've ever experienced. He took a little Albert King and a little Jimi Hendrix and forged a muscular style all his own.
Suggested listening: "Couldn't Stand the Weather"

10 Who Taught Me Country Was Cool

I started this list before leaving for Merlefest. After seeing all BR549 all but tear the roof off the dance tent, I knew I had to finish it soon. I've become more receptive to country music as I've gotten older. I'm starting to think it was cool all along. Here are 10 acts that changed my mind, in alphabetical order:

Chet Atkins -- Nothing gets me more interested in a song or style of music than a good guitarist. Atkins, who was called "Mr. Guitar," was an influential producer in Nashville as well as a gifted musician. He was never the flashiest player around, but he was the smoothest. I miss him.

BR549 -- I'd been curious about BR549 for a long time, but hadn't bought any of their CDs. My friend Stacy turned me onto them. She's one of the few people who can get me to buy something on recommendation alone, and this is one example why. They'll play an old Johnny Horton or Webb Pierce tune right next to a Chuck Berry or Carl Perkins song. They're all red-hot.

Johnny Cash -- If you've read this blog at all, you probably already know that when I was a kid I thought my father was foolish for listening to Johnny Cash. Chalk another one up for the old man. I came around once I was old enough to know better. I would have been a fan based in his Sun rockabilly alone. His legacy as a humanitarian and iconic artist right up until his death seals the deal.

Steve Earle -- He hasn't been what you'd call a country artist for a number of years, but his album "Exit 0" probably did more than anything to convince me that country was cool. When I backtracked to 1986's "Guitar Town," I discovered what is probably my favorite Earle lyric: "Well I gotta keep rockin' while I still can/Got a two-pack habit and a motel tan."

The Holy Trinity of Hank -- Hank Williams, Hank Williams Jr. and Hank III. I guess I was into Hank Jr. first, because Dad listened to him. "Man of Steel" is a great country album. I also liked that he would do covers of ZZ Top tunes, which in the '80s gave him a lot of credibility with me. Hank Williams is one of the iconic figures of American music. In all discussions of that mythical Mount Rushmore of music, his face should be on it. Once I acquired the taste for his voice, it was easier to see that. Hank III is even more of a rebel than his old man. His shows begin with a set of traditional country that sounds just like his grandaddy. Then they turn it up a little bit for a second set of what he calls "hellbilly." After a break, Hank III comes out fronting his own metal band, Assjack, for the last set. If there's a Hank IV, I'm alternately fascinated by and scared of what that might mean.

Waylon Jennings -- Years later, I would appreciate Jennings' "outlaw country." My first exposure, though, was when he was the narrator for "The Dukes of Hazzard." It sounds as cool now as it did back then.

Willie Nelson -- It's appropriate that Willie follows Waylon on this list. They were all but joined at the hip in the '70s, proving that you didn't have to live in Nashville to make successful country music. He gets extra credit for writing classic country songs such as "Crazy" and "Hello Walls" in addition to his own hits.

Buck Owens -- It was Buck's red-white-and-blue guitar on Hee-Haw that first got my attention, but it was the quality of his band, The Buckaroos, that held it. The earlier material, before guitarist and fiddler Don Rich was killed in a motorcycle accident, that I love the most. Rich was not only a hot guitar picker, but he and Owens really clicked as harmony singers. It doesn't hurt that John Fogerty name-checks Owens in Creedence's "Lookin' Out My Back Door."

Uncle Tupelo -- Their music fused country and rock, plus they covered country acts such as the Carter Family and Louvin Brothers. If you made me choose a favorite band, Uncle Tupelo would be it. I wish I had known it while they were still together.

Dwight Yoakam -- As I was getting more used to the idea that I liked classic honky-tonk music (ooh, I like that term; it would make a good radio format), Yoakam's choice of covers made it more palatable: "Little Sister" and "Suspicious Minds," which had of course been done by Elvis; The Blasters' "Long White Cadillac"; Queen's "Crazy Little Thing Called Love"; Cheap Trick's "I Want You to Want Me"; and Buck Owens' "Streets of Bakersfield" (with Owens).

Feeling festive in N.C.

I hadn't intended on going so long between posts, but I've been so caught up in Merlefest this year that I just haven't had the time. Between getting ready, being there, and riding out the good-music buzz I've had since, I haven't been able to sit down and write. My apologies, dear reader. You may rest assured that I missed you, too.

If you aren't familiar with it, Merlefest is a music festival held each April at Wilkes Community College in in Wilkesboro, N.C. It's held in the memory of Merle Watson, who died in a tractor accident in 1985. Merle was the son of American music icon Doc Watson, and he developed quite a reputation of his own while accompanying his father onstage. His friends, family, and fellow musicians got together in 1987 to honor him with a weekend concert, and it's been growing ever since. Merlefest was expected to draw more than 80,000 fans to Wilkesboro over four days.

Though I've known about it from reading guitar magazines for several years, this was only my second Merlefest. I hope to attend many more, because they have both been fantastic. Here are my highlights:

Thursday
Tim O'Brien -- I don't think there's a stringed instrument he can't play, though he stuck to mandolin for this set. He's the kind of guy you'd want to take lessons from, because you'd play a CD for him and he'd be able to break it down for you in about 10 minutes. He's a great player and a great songwriter, too. I was way overdue to own his newest CD, "Traveler," so I made the first of my many trips to the Merlefest Mall (huge merch tent) to get it.

Loretta Lynn -- Sharon really loves her "Van Lear Rose" CD, and we were both looking forward to this set. Unfortunately, she was stricken by allergies on the trip to Wilkesboro, and she was hoarse. She struggled through her hits, including "Fist City" and "Coal Miner's Daughter," and apologized repeatedly for not being able to hit the high notes. She only did two songs from "Van Lear Rose," and didn't even do all of "Portland, Oregon," so I'd have to say I was disappointed. On the other hand, how many times do you get to see Loretta Lynn? She's paid her dues, and she's more than entitled to an off night.

Friday
The Greencards -- I'd discovered this band (composed of two Australians and an Englishman who reside in Austin) on a Borders listening station a couple months ago. The sticker on the CD said it was the best bluegrass CD Robert Earl Keen had heard in the past 20 years. I wouldn't go that far, but I liked it enough to buy it. They were good live, too. The fiddler and mandolin player were particularly skilled players and the group harmonized well. Best of all, they brought copies of their new CD, which isn't scheduled for release until late June. At 18 bucks a pop, it was already shaping up like a long weekend at Merlefest Mall.

John Jorgenson -- This was another highly anticipated show for us. Sharon's also a big Django Reinhardt fan, and Jorgenson's newest CD of Reinhardt-inspired tunes is appropriately titled "Franco-American Swing." He was booked on the main stage, and he definitely channeled Reinhardt's spirit. As if being a monster gypsy jazz guitarist isn't enough, Jorgenson was equally skilled on the clarinet, which he played toward the end of the set.

The Tony Rice Unit -- Rice is one of my favorite guitarists, so I was disappointed when a scheduling conflict had kept him from reaching the festival in time for his set on Thursday. He more than made up for it on Friday. Out at the Hillside Stage, which is the longest walk from the main stage, he seemed to be whimsically making up the setlist as he went along. He chose tunes "in the spirit of [Jerry] Garcia" ("Shady Grove") and "in the spirit of Clarence White" ("I Am A Pilgrim"). He also dedicated an instrumental version of Tom Paxton's "Last Thing On My Mind" to fiddler Vassar Clements, who has been diagnosed with lung cancer and is very ill. Every time I see Rice play, I can't help but think that no matter how many guitar players I see in my lifetime he will always be one of the best. Only a few come along every generation, and he's definitely one of them.

Hayes Carll -- The latest hot Texas singer/songwriter, by way of Arkansas. He's definitely got the between-song banter down, dryly introducing songs with statements such as "before I became an international folk icon ..." I didn't know much about Carll before the festival except for one article I'd read in No Depression. I noted that he'd co-written songs with Guy Clark and Ray Wylie Hubbard. Their endorsement, and the few songs I heard, were enough to warrant leaving more of my hard-earned dough at Merlefest Mall.

The Duhks -- Part of a real surge in old-time Americana music going on right now, even though they're Canadian. They're getting a lot of buzz, but I think they'll outlive the hype. Their style is an energetic blend of string band, gospel, bluegrass, folk and even some Latin-inspired percussion. I really like traditional bluegrass, but it's nice to see a band successfully push the envelope and still maintain a largely acoustic presentation. I'd be willing to bet that one or two albums from now they're going to do something fantastic.

Jerry Douglas -- I have to admit that I get a little bothered by Douglas getting top billing when he plays with Alison Krauss (Alison Krauss and Union Station featuring Jerry Douglas), but my Merlefest buddy Derek asked me during this set in which Douglas led his own band if I could think of a better Dobro player. I've had a week to think about it, and I still can't.

Saturday
John Jorgenson -- Sharon didn't go to the festival on Friday, so we made sure to get over to The Pit to catch Jorgenson's set on Saturday morning. His session was titled "The Music of Django Reinhardt," and we found the small auditorium packed when we got there. It was so crowded that we had to stand in the doorway. It was worth all 45 minutes of neck strain trying to get a better look at what he was doing. Based on this set, I can only imagine how great it must have been to see Reinhardt play.

King Wilkie -- I picked up their CD a while back, because any traditional bluegrass band that names itself after Bill Monroe's favorite horse is OK with me. These guys are all young, but they're an old-school band -- sport coats on stage, playing around one microphone, etc. The future of bluegrass appears to be in good hands.

Del McCoury Band -- If they're lucky, this is what King Wilkie will become. This is the epitome of a bluegrass band. They can play the hell out of their instruments, and Del McCoury is a fantastic singer. I wish that I was going to have Del's fantastic head of hair when I was his age (66).

The Tony Rice Unit -- They were fantastic at Hillside. For this performance, at the indoor Walker Center, I was lucky enough to sit in the front row. Rice is always great, but his band is great too. Watching them work is watching like a great jazz band interact. A wink or a nod or a tap of the foot can send the tune in a different direction when all the musicians are feeling it. Rickie Simpkins (mandolin) and Bryn Bright (bass) are tremendous players, and second guitarist Wyatt Rice (Tony's brother) is pretty damn good, too.

The Chieftans (with special guests Jerry Douglas, Del McCoury, Ricky Skaggs, Earl Scruggs) -- They had even more special guests who helped them out on their "Down the Old Plank Road" album, but these are the ones that stand out in my mind. You don't need me to tell you how great The Chieftans are. But I think maybe a lot of the people at the festival weren't real familiar with them. I don't know if it was the special guests or how well they play, but they went over big on Saturday and again on Sunday, when they were joined by Bela Fleck, Tim O'Brien, Buddy Miller and Allison Moorer.

Rodney Crowell -- I had been looking forward to Rodney Crowell all weekend, but I spent his whole set in line waiting to get Sam Bush's autograph. Fortunately, the autograph line was near the main stage and Crowell's band was LOUD. The songs were great, and he has really come in to his own as one of the elder statesmen among singer/songwriters in the past couple years.

Sunday
Doc Watson and the Nashville Bluegrass Band -- For the second straight year, my Sunday morning started with Doc and the band doing a set of gospel bluegrass. The term "national treasure" tends to be overused, but in this case it applies. If church meant listening to Doc Watson pick gospel, my ass would be in the pew every Sunday.

BR549 -- The hardest-working honky-tonk band in show business. They played the main stage at 11 a.m., which is a little early for these guys. They were up to the task. But they really hit their stride at their 1 p.m. set in the dance tent. They tore through a set of originals and honky-tonk standards that even had me semi-dancing. You know the band is rocking when that happens. As one request was shouted out, singer/guitarist Chuck Mead reminded the crowd that the band came up on Nashville's Lower Broadway playing for tips, and that "there's a difference between a request and a suggestion," while rubbing his fingers together in the universal sign for cash-ola. I took the bait, and walked up to the front and handed Mead $10 to play "Seven Nights To Rock." They not only played it, but it was the hottest version I've ever heard, including an encore at a Bruce Springsteen show. Multi-instrumentalist Don Herron, who my music-bud Stacy likes to call BR549's "secret weapon," was on fire for the whole set. During their last number, which eludes me right now, he rocked the steel guitar over on one side while soloing. Then he laid it over on the stage monitors and soloed some more. Then, as the crowd was whipped into a frenzy, he grabbed the leg of the steel guitar stand and held it triumphantly over his head, breaking the cord. They're even better after the sun goes down. Trust me, folks; if you like honky-tonk music or you just like to have a good time, go see BR549 if they come through your town. You will get your money's worth. That tenner was the best money I spent all weekend, with none of the harsh side effects brought on by the many Italian sausages I purchased.

Buddy Miller -- Miller's "Universal United House of Prayer" was one of my favorite albums last year, and the songs had just as much soul live.

Alison Krauss and Union Station -- There's not much you can say about this band that hasn't been said already. The band plays perfectly, and Krauss has a perfect voice. Everything she sings sounds great, though I maintain that she'd struggle with Slayer's "Reign In Blood." Having such a great headliner for Sunday afternoon really brought a lot of fans out, and kept them there up until the very end.

Doc Watson and Bill Mathis closed the festival with the traditional "Tribute to Merle," which is based on "Will The Circle Be Unbroken," and so ended a great weekend of great music. I can only imagine what next year's lineup will be like, although I'm really looking forward to seeing what they put together for the 20th Merlefest in 2007.

As great as all the music was, it also was great to catch up with friends and be with people who love great music. Sharon and I caught up with Derek, Carlton, Jenny and Larry from last year. We even had a Merlefest newbie, Karen, in our group. It was especially nice to catch up with Stacy and Geoffrey, who we've missed in the worst way since they moved to Japan in September. The music always sounds better when you're among friends.