This from TAD on his latest blog of the great lost singles.
Ghod Bless RS Crabb 4 confirming awhile back that he'd heard at least SOME of the "Great Lost Singles" I'd bn writing about -- course the 1st few that I wrote about, the 1's I'd practically SELL MY SOUL & mortgage the house I don't own 2 get my hands on -- those he apparently didn't read about.
Tad (from his old website which is gone)
Perhaps I'll will him my collection of 45s then. Most of the songs he suggested you can find on Rhino's Have A Nice Day Series. Nope I have never heard of the Kracker song he mentioned that Rolling Stones put out on their own label. Contrary to what he knows, I have read his Great Lost Singles blogs and note that Tad has a great memory of what he heard on the radio, just as much as I remember what I heard on the radio at that time. As for the 5 Men Electrical Band, there's finally a US best of album that Collector's Choice Music is touting but I do have the Canadian Polydor best of that came out 10 years ago that has Julianna and I'm a Stranger Here but definly need to hear that album again although my initial reaction to Absolutely Right-The Best Of was that the this band has dated over the years but nevertheless, Tad knows his music from the late 60s-early 70s era. And I'm flattered that he remembered me. Cheers!
I try not to comment on this John And Kate Plus Eight show to all of a sudden they break up and they become news for the Trash TV. Nor do I really give a shit about Lindsay Lohan 's lovelife. Or why Jennifer Anniston can't keep a man or why John Mayer plays the field. John Mayer is what I can lottery winners. Those who make the media with the littlest of efforts. Carrie Underwood also falls in this catagory. Mayer remains overrated in his music and he can do what he wants or bed any good looking chick he wants. Jennifer Anniston seems to be high maintainence. John Mayer wants to be in the spotlight too, hell he's funny at times but most of the time he just annoys me. Great guitar player, subpar albums. What can we say?
This weekend will be one year since The Flood of 2008 and KCRG has put together this website that gives you the play by play of those fateful turn of events. Even the day before the Red Cedar tore through 114 city blocks of CR, this town got socked with another 2 inches of rain to go with the 10 inches that arrived on the Sunday before. This is the very reason why I became anti rain. No drought in the world would ever convince me of desiring another rainy day. This website above gives you the reason why I'm anti rain.
A new season of Gene Simmons Family Jewels is upon us and even if you can't stand the Tongue Master Moneyman himself you gotta enjoy his family as they try to put up with his hijinx. It won't make me go out and buy that new KI$$ album later in the year (Ace is not on it and a good KISS album has to have either him or Vinnie Vincent on it) but it sure in the hell beats John + Kate Plus 8 for reality fun although my dad might disagree on me on that.
New Alice In Chains in September and yes they're on a major label again. EMI/Virgin if you care.
An official Van Halen band is the one with David Lee Roth and Michael Anthony in it. Eddie has been acting more like Axl Rose every year and although I'm sure he's honored to have Wolfgang in his band, it's still not the same with M.A. As much as Eddie Van Halen can't stand Sammy Hagar, booting Mike out of the band just becuz he's jamming with Sammy on the side shouldn't mean you should blacklist him. But then again maybe Eddie just can't put out a good VH album anymore. He certainly hasn't since For Unlawful Carnal Knowledge. Or the song that was on the Twister soundtrack.
And now a word from Mr. Rhett Miller on his brand new album released today.
Today, my record drops. Who will be there to catch it?
I have made a number of these things. Records. The process still mystifies me. It starts with nothing. A hummed tune. A few words. A chorus line I can't extricate from my head.
Then it's a pile of songs. Too many, invariably. So the runts get shoved aside by the stronger of the litter. The castaways might grow up between now and the next record and find a home there. Some will become bonus tracks. Others will be forgotten. But the record? That's the thing. The monster that has just been summoned into existence. The beast about to draw its first breath.
I love the process of making records. The camaraderie. The common goal. The act of creation that links all involved. It's more fun now than when I made my first record way back in high school. And that was the most fun I'd ever had. What a thrill. To discover the meaning in a life. In my own life.
I am a lucky, lucky man.
I named this album after its dad. Rhett Miller.
Self-centered? Sure. But my favorite art happens when the lens is turned inward. I reveal bits of myself in order to reach out. To the shared consciousness. To the world. To you.
"My life was saved by rock and roll." It's not just a great lyric, it's the truth. I heard Joan Jett sing it on the King Biscuit Flower Hour one depressing Sunday night during my childhood. That night she introduced me to The Velvets AND Bowie. Thanks, Joan,
While I'm at it, I need to thank the good folks who have helped out even more recently...
This record started out as mine, but it became the property of a small group of us.
Salim Nourallah is my George Martin. I love him and depend on him. He nurtured this record so lovingly. His endless ideas; his willingness to hear input from all involved; his strength of vision... He made it all possible. And what a bedside manner! Salim has helped me learn to be a more conscious, present person. That's a full-service producer!
The first thing we laid down, not unusually, was the foundation. The drums. John Dufilho had studied the demos I'd made with the intensity of an FBI operative poring over vital intelligence reports. He came into the studio with a focus and determination that made me want to work hard enough that I would deserve his hard work and talent. John re-introduced me to my own songs. He rebuilt them. He saved their puny little lives and set them on the road towards maturation.
Billy Harvey is like a taller, good-looking Yoda. Quiet and intense. He embodies a Zen approach to life that inspires me. He could be the world's biggest show-off - his melodic and instrumental prowess is so profound. But, like a true Jedi, he only displays his brilliance when it is needed. He played the vast majority of the guitar parts on the album as well as some keys and some singing. To hear him create melody and nuance is to watch a master-craftsman at work. And we pushed him. Long hours. Hard work. He never complained. He never phoned it in.
Jon Brion, on the other hand, did phone it in. But only technically. He was in LA while we were in Dallas. He would get the tracks we had laid down and add his own fascinating, insane, beautiful flourishes wherever he saw fit. How lucky am I to count Jon among my friends? Supremely. And don't think I don't know it. Listen to the bass part on the album's opening cut. That's Jon Brion. Forever riding a wave of inspiration. Forever making the world a more beautiful place.
The backing vocals on the album are the sweet fruit of the thousands of hours my friend Paul Averitt spent honing that specific talent. And what a talent. Though he did mark up all my notebooks, writing FA and SO in the margins, I still heart him.
There were others, friends who swung by the studio and got recruited. Jason Garner from the Deathray Davies and the Paper Chase came in and ended up playing bass on one cut. John Lefler of the band Dashboard Confessional got roped into playing some late-night keyboard parts that might have just saved the album. Kristy Kreuger came in and sang on "Refusing Temptation", a song I'd originally written with the idea that it should be sung by a woman. And what a voice SHE has.
And then, amongst an arsenal of secret weapons, the most secret of all. Rip Rowan was not only the Geoff Emerick to Salim's George Martin, doing a fantastic job of engineering, but a great player as well. Keys, percussion, and ideas galore. His unflagging energy saved many a day.
And now the record is out. In the world. And the hard work of that team is documented for eternity.
I love music. I love records. I am a lucky, lucky man.
If my record is dropping, how come things are looking so UP?
....
Thank you Rhett. And now Mr. Crabb reviews it. Not as polished and as memorable as his last album, Rhett retains Salim Nourallah (The Old 97's Blame It On Gravity album) as producer and makes kind of a mellowed affair with the occasional fortay into hard rocking songs (Happy Birthday Don't Die) and the obvilous of failed love songs (Sometimes, Another Girlfriend). Tuneful and reflective, it's nice that Shout Factory (home of Matthew Sweet) has given Rhett Miller an outlet for his music and if this record is slightest of his four album output, it is certainly much better than the latest from Elvis Costello whose tends to overstay his welcome. With Rhett it's always a pleasure to hear from him. Only wished he had more songs such as I Need To Know Where I Stand or If It's Not Love in him. And wished radio would at least play his music.
Three stars. Grade B plus
Afterthought: Too bad that Rhett decided to cast his lot with Shout Factory for this one off for the label. Many copies became dollar cutouts at the bargain stores around town. Still holds up fairly well although I'm thinking it's a straight B album and not B plus.
