Crackity Jones' Diary: Singing a new tune

Worth A Listen

Spanic Boys: Spanic Boys
Milwaukee father-and-son duo that got their 15 minutes of fame as a last-minute replacement on "Saturday Night Live." Take a walk around your office and ask if anybody likes them. If you find someone who's a fan, beg them to show you their record collection or make you a mix tape. You have found a true fan of the rock and roll music. A blend of '50s rock, rockabilly, country and blues sung in innate harmony found only in blood relatives. Sample lyric: "You're drivin' me insane/ Like a man that's lost his brain. While you're out there having fun, I'm sittin' home havin' none." -- "Looks Good To Me" Note: The picture is actually The Spanics' "Dream Your Life Away" album (thanks a lot, Amazon), but it's a good one, too.
Tim Easton: Break Your Mother's Heart
Another discovery as an opening act; this time the headliner was John Hiatt. A great songwriter and fingerpicker who has honed his craft on the road in the States and overseas. While Ashlee Simpson was lip-synching on "Saturday Night Live" and, even worse, actually singing at halftime of the Orange Bowl, this guy was in a club somewhere, playing for tips. Get thee now to a record store and find this CD. You won't be sorry. Sample lyric: "A pack of dull monkeys could write circles around that fourth-grade, mumbly slang, stream-of-consciousness jive that you call a song." -- "Poor, Poor LA"
Will T. Massey: Will T. Massey
This 1991 album is out of print, but if you shop around on eBay you can probably find a copy for less than a buck. That's a crime. Fans of Steve Earle, Bruce Springsteen and Tom Petty will find something for them here. Steve Earle did; I discovered Massey when he opened for Earle around the time this disc came out. Mike Campbell, Roy Bittan, and Jim Keltner did; they all played on it. This guy should have been a star, and I can't for the life of me figure out why he wasn't. In fact, I don't know what happened to him. If anyone out there knows, drop me a line. Sample lyric: "And when I was young they starting ropin'/Now the roundup's done and I ain't broken" -- "Barbed Wire Town"

Sunday, July 31, 2005

Singing a new tune

I started feeling old today.

My friends will tell you I started acting old a long time ago. I can be pretty cranky for 35. I started looking old a while ago, too. Too many mornings I find myself walking awkwardly when I get out of bed, trying to shake off creakiness in the knees, stiffness in my back or the nagging pain that has moved into my shoulders.

It wasn't until today that I started feeling old. It didn't surprise me too much. With a little girl on the way, I've been looking over my shoulder for the past few weeks, just waiting for it to catch up to me. Despite my vigilance it still caught me a little off guard, overtaking me in a place I normally feel safe and confident -- the record store.

Since I hadn't been there for a while, the wife and I headed over to Orpheus Records this afternoon. In the past few years, I've found dozens of great deals on used vinyl. I rarely go with a purchase in mind. I just start looking through the bins and wait for the surprises. I've replaced old Springsteen and Stray Cats albums that suffered from overuse or neglect. I've found reissues from Johnny Burnette, Link Wray and Uncle Tupelo that I've been able to enjoy on vinyl. I've discovered some excellent folk/bluegrass albums there as well, such as Dan Crary's "Guitar" and Norman Blake's "Whiskey Before Breakfast."

Today, I walked out empty-handed.

It's not unprecedented, but it is rare. There are thousands of albums in there, just waiting for good homes. I normally adopt one or two. There were some candidates who came close to joining the family today. I looked over a Gene Vincent reissue. I pulled out an old Gordon Lightfoot album my father played a lot when I was a kid, turning it over in my hands and remembering the way those songs sounded to me. There were a bunch of great John Hartford albums (I suspect there isn't another kind). Nothing made the cut.

I supposed it could have something to do with my turntable being broken. I doubt it. It will be fixed soon, and when it is that Gene Vincent would sound great.

I say I started feeling old today because I think it was my own conscience and sense of responsibility that kept my wallet in my pocket. I've known for a while that when the Li'l' Peanut arrives I'm going to have to change my habits. Fine-tuning our music library will have to take a back seat to diapers and the college fund. But those habits hadn't changed yet, until today.

Maybe that will all change tomorrow. Maybe when I wake up I'll be convinced that we can't live any longer without owning "James Taylor's Greatest Hits" or Muddy Waters' "Anthology." It's hard to tell with me.

Part of me hopes that my self-restraint kicked in today. It's nice to know there are a few things I love even more than music.

Sunday, July 31, 2005 at 04:57 PM | Permalink

Comments

Way I see it, if Sharon gets to eat and drink and sleep for two, seems to me you should be buying music for two. :) It's just doing your part!

Posted by: Stacy | Sunday, July 31, 2005 at 10:45 PM

There I go, enabling again. Even when 7000 miles apart, we're still bad influences on each other! Yesss. ;)

Posted by: Stacy | Sunday, July 31, 2005 at 10:45 PM

I wouldn't want it any other way.

Posted by: Sean | Monday, August 01, 2005 at 09:33 AM

Leaving the record store empty-handed isn't old, man ... leaving the record store with Kenny G under your arm is old. Err, wait — I mean "twisted and disgusting."

And when Waylon Jennings grows up, some of her favorite memories will be hitting the record store on Sundays with Dad.

Posted by: sid | Monday, August 01, 2005 at 10:22 AM

I'm with Sid there. You've left empty handed before. The only time you should be embarrased at a record store hasn't happend yet. It will be when you have to go to Orpheus to buy Geoffreiana Danger Moores teh new Justin Timberlake album.

Posted by: G | Tuesday, August 02, 2005 at 03:00 AM

Dude, that name sounds way too close to 80s hair band Giuffria for comfort. You would look good in the tiger-skin coat, though.

Posted by: sid | Tuesday, August 02, 2005 at 12:03 PM

Hey, darlin'. The changes you'll be making to your buying habits will be, oh, The Wiggles: Wigglin' Down The Road, or Sesame Street: 30 Years On The Street, or Baby Einstein For Lil' Crack-Smokers. Enjoy! (and, if you'd rather borrow them instead, well, you know where to go.) Though, we don't have them on vinyl. Yet. (sorry!)

Posted by: kate | Tuesday, August 02, 2005 at 01:07 PM

I see Mr. Moores neglected to mention he had bought 15 to 20 records the weekend before. And he bought 2 CDs minutes before entering Orpheus. I'm just saying.

WE ARE NOT BUYING ANY FUCKING WIGGLES!! If he brings that crap home, he's sleeping in the truck.

Posted by: Sharon | Thursday, August 04, 2005 at 12:16 PM

I'm getting a bad rap. That Ellington CD was yours. I'll cop to the Rory Gallagher, but the Ellington was yours.

Posted by: Sean | Thursday, August 04, 2005 at 12:55 PM

You're not old at 35. And I only say that because I'm 35. If you were even one year older than me, I'd call you a decrepit old geezer, but since you're my age, I'll insist that you're a young whippersnapper.

Posted by: Karla | Sunday, September 04, 2005 at 04:21 PM