Oil Drum

Damn. It's been a good couple of weeks. We hope Mr./Senator/President-Elect Obama does well, fingers crossed 'n' all that. Shit, we'd be happy if can get about 5% of what he's promised accomplished. That'd be, oh, what, about a 105% improvement over the last 8 years? Well, here's hoping. It could all fall apart,of course, cynical bastard that I am.

Now then.

We've got a ton of shit to cover between now and Thanksgiving, when we begin our world-famous daily Xmas postings. The odds are not in our favor of getting everything in before Thanksgiving, considering our posting schedule, and the fact we have, you know, a life, and sumsuch. But let's give it a go.

To start with, I'd like to tug on yr coat a little about my favorite record label find of the year, and one LP in particular.

Mississippi Records (can't find an official site) is a strange oddity, apparently starting out as a way to release personal records and those of friends and influences. Somewhere along the way they started releasing limited edition records of obscure Blues, Country(ish), Soul, and whatnot artists, sort of like Numero Group, but even more, ahem, out there, whatever that is. Some of our favorites, and, yes, we've been trying to collect 'em all, include: "Last Kind Words", "What Are They Doing In Heaven Today" by Washington Phillips, "I Don't Feel At Home In This World Anymore", and "Life Is A Problem", a fantastic Gospel collection.

But one record in particular stands out.

We often repeat a few phrases and words 'round these parts. Trash and garbage are two of our favorite descriptors, for reasons that are often obvious, at least sound-wise. So we're thrilled to introduce a feller for whom those words can finally be retired

George Coleman, aka "Bongo Joe", played the oil drum. 55-gallon oil drums. Yup.

To get an idea exactly what and how Coleman plays, please allow me to quote the record's "liner notes" by one Mr. Larry Skoog, with typos unchanged:

"Coleman's drum is a 55-gallon oil drum shaped with a hand ax in a curious series of dents, bulges, cuts and wrinkles. His drum sticks are made from hammer handles, the bases of hand oil cans filled with pebble and BB shot to provide a rattle, and rubber chair leg caps. The entire set-up is the result of trial and error experimentation that has occurred since George was turned down for a drummers job in Houston during the late forties."

It's hard to pin down Coleman's style into a neat little package like Jazz or Blues. It's not either, really, but maybe a little bit. As a street performer, one could try to link Coleman to Moondog, minus the theoretical albatross, but that doesn't work either. Coleman was no savant. His is a more tribal and rhythmic performance, designed to move yer ass not yer cortex.

Except....

Coleman sings/raps/rants over the top of his rhythmic constructs. Like any street performer, Coleman's got...opinions about the world. But Coleman's not a crackpot...he's remarkably prescient, anticipating the social disconnect of the IPod generation, 40 years early (!), with the track "Transistor Radio", linked below. There's a kinship with The Beats, though denied by Coleman, in terms of vocal delivery, his rhythmic incantations matching his tribal drumming. Since Coleman preceded the Beats by some years, it would be more apt to say they were influenced by him, though I could find no evidence of any them copping to it (Coleman's base was Texas, so it's hard to imagine much in the way of crossing paths).

Coleman began performing publicly in the 40's and continued, primarily as a street performer, until the early 90's, when health concerns took him off the corner and the public eye. He died in 1999 at the age of 76.

Chris Strachwitz, the man who recorded "Bongo Joe" for Arhoolie, said of Coleman: "He was the original rapper.... I tried to record him in the street, with the crowd interaction, but my tape machine went out. I took him to a friend's house and recorded him there...He was an amazing drummer, too. I just saw him as a wonderful storyteller. He was an improvising genius. His songs are powerful little statements."

"Bongo Joe", recorded in 1968, is a revelatory album, and highly recommended to all readers of this here little corner of the blogosphere (I feel silly writing that word, frankly). It's available on CD from Arhoolie, with bonus tracks, but the LP reissue (on Mississippi) remains essential (it's the proper track listing, with the proper sonic playback.)

Shake yr boots!


George Coleman: Transistor Radio (mp3)

George Coleman: Cool It (mp3)

Support your local, independent snake oil salesman. Buy in bulk. Barrel size, even.

Washington Talkin' Blues

Fun election-day tunes at the end of this post!

First, fare thee well Studs Terkel. More later on him, though words from this inept writer could hardly do justice to a man who defined America through his own mastery of the language, and the language and stories of the people he spent a career preserving.

Now.

We here at the Mountain have drunk the Kool Aid.

The lovely Mrs. Mountain and I, along with some of our fellow traveling, tax and spending, wealth distributing elitists, will be attending the Barack Obama rally Tuesday night in Grant Park here in beautiful Chicago. Yup, we scored tickets. Witness to history, 'n' all that.

I honestly don't know if we'll be witnessing a victory speech or a concession speech. Perhaps it will be neither, as this election could take days or weeks to resolve. Who knows?

I wouldn't call this an endorsement of any sort. Who cares who some blogger is voting for? Most folks have already made up their mind, one way or the other, and if someone is still undecided this late in the game, I'm not sure what argument they're waiting for to convince them.

I'm voting for Obama because of his stance on issues that are important to me. I'm a big ole bleeding-heart liberal, fer chrissakes! My Republican friends (and yes, I do have some) are voting for McCain based on issues important to them. Others are voting 3rd party for the same reasons.

Regardless of who wins, I hope they have the best interests of everyone in this country.

I hope everyone finds time to vote on Tuesday, if you haven't already taken advantage of early voting, no matter who you're for. A few hours in line is nothing compared to what folks endured during the Suffrage movement of the early 20th Century or the Civil Rights movement of the 50's and 60's.

Probably could have been more obscure with the following songs. Oh well.

Can't believe the Sam Cooke tune hasn't been used by the Obama campaign yet. Perhaps it's too obvious. As far as we're concerned, Woody Guthrie is the poet laureate (along with Walt Whitman) of these here United States. And Frank Sinatra is..well..he's Frank Sinatra.


Sam Cooke: A Change Is Gonna Come (mp3)

Woody Guthrie: This Land Is Your Land (mp3)

Woody Guthrie: Better World A-Comin' (mp3)

Frank Sinatra and Dinah Shore: It's All Up To You (mp3)

Vote, guldurnit!

Blue Jumped The Rabbit

Just out of curiosity, what exactly is a "fruited plain"?

Thanks to all those who sent yr demo's our way. Response has been pretty massive, so we're still working our way through 'em. If you haven't heard from us yet, please be patient, we'll get back to all y'all. And the call for submissions is still open, and will continue to be so, so send us yr lo-fi, bargain basement demo. Your next great honky tonk/rock'n'roll/blues/trash hit can be sent to: foggymountainrecords@gmail.com.

Can't believe it's been 10 years since the release of our fave rave Fat Possum record, Takes One To Know One by Elmo Williams and Hezekiah Early. And to celebrate, we've got a brand spankin' new 10", American Made, from Elmo and Hezekiah, courtesy of Big Legal Mess Records.

If you're not familiar with Williams and Early, the first thing you should know is that this aint no pussy ass watered down blues ala Stevie Ray Vaughan and BB King. No sir, this is Natchez,Mississippi jukejoint Blues: raw, primal and with shouty bits.

Both Williams and Early were well known around Mississippi and Louisiana dives for years (Williams was born in 1933, Early in 1934), with Williams cutting his teeth at the legendary Haney's Big House and Early befriending the likes of Papa George Lightfoot and Muhammad Ali (!?!), before forming his own combo Hezekiah and the Houserockers.

Somehow Bruce Watson over at Fat Possum got a notion these two fellers would make some pretty swell noise together, and we ended up with one of the best Blues records of the past 30 years.

What we get on "Takes One To Know One" is a primal howl. Elmo Williams pulls off shreds of nasty, distorted blues junk from a guitar that one can only imagine has been greatly abused, with tuning a mere afterthought, if a thought at all. Tin and mud. Grease and garbage. Early's drumming is tribal, pure rhythm and mayhem, led by the pelvic thrust of sex and need. Low and dirty, snapped trap set teetering on the edge, Early provides the muscular thrust to Williams' songs. Look to "Mother's Dead" below for especial proof of Early's genius.

And then Williams sings. It's not a voice god would ordain. A rumbling yelp, a shout to the devil. Desperation and lust. A true filth and fury.

The whole record puts the Blues pretenders to shame, particularly the Jon Spencer/20 Miles faction of white-boy ironic blues. It's Blues the way the devil intended, pure rhythm and holler. Some other Mississippi-based Blues musicians have made a case for genius around a trance-like style (the majestic Junior Kimbrough), but Williams and Early make the case for Blues as a surging force, the banks of the Mississippi overrun, and there's a fire in the valley.

Elmo Williams and Hezekiah Early's new record, "American Made" is pretty goddamn kick-ass too. It's out now, it's brand new, it's a nice bookend to a classic dropped on us 10 years ago. Check it out.


From "Takes One To Know One":

Elmo Williams and Hezekiah Early: Blue Jumped The Rabbit (mp3)

Elmo Williams and Hezekiah Early: Hoopin' and Hollerin' (mp3)

Elmo Williams and Hezekiah Early: Mother's Dead (mp3)

From the new 10" record, "American Made":

Elmo Williams and Hezekiah Early: Bigged Legged Woman (mp3)

Elmo Williams and Hezekiah Early: USA (mp3)

Please support your local, independent tub thumpers and guitar shouters.

Pure Country Gold

Ok. So look to your left for a very important poll. Share your opinion. We're interested. Really interested.

Now, before we drop the needle on our latest cover star, we figger it's about time to cue the drum roll on that pesky announcement we've been promising, and which has been taking up our time over the last couple of months:

We are currently looking for demos from unsigned artists, singular or band-oriented .

Yep, you read that right. We're encouraging folks to send us stuff. Doesn't have to be your own stuff, either. Got a favorite band or artist you think should deserve wider recognition? An artist who, for the life of you, you don't understand why they're not world-famous, and why the hell do those hoity toity record execs not make a trip to your neck of the woods, anyway? Maybe there's a busker or lone guy or gal picking and grinning on your street corner that you think is super-swell. The Mountain wants to hear about it. Who's your favorite honky-tonker, Blues shouter, or trash rock kings? Who do you close your local tavern out with every damn weekend? Send 'em our way. Shitty demo's in low-quality mp3's are encouraged.

Just, pleasepleaseplease, don't send us anything that doesn't fit within the parameters of what we generally cover here. Know your audience, as it were. No Indie Pop, generic "rock", techno/electronica, or hat-obsessed Nashville assembly-line treacle. Please peruse this site, and the types of sounds we're obsessed with, to determine if your band fits. We're probably pissing in the wind with that request, but we figgered we'd try.

Of course, you wanna know where to send these future all-star demo's? Our preference is that you send them to foggymountainrecords@gmail.com (damn, did I just give it away), but our regular email will be fine, jukejoint@gmail.com.

Naturally, more info and whatnot to follow.

Now then.

When a band assigns itself a name like Pure Country Gold, you gotta figger we'd at least allow the band a prick of our ears. And, boy howdy, are we glad we did.

Pure Country Gold is pure trash. Tasty, nasty and loud. And sleazy. Sleazy like the barroom floor at last call, you don't have to go home, but you can't stay here, and who're you gonna pick up to take home for a quick rut just to say your weekend wasn't a total waste, burning sensation be damned?

Yeah, it's that good.

Pure Country Gold aren't Country, per se. Not in the way we've been conditioned to think of Country, what with the hats and boots and good ole boy polemic-ism. Shit, I'm just pulling at (turkey in the) straws here. It's complete (glorious, sonic) junk masquerading with a name designed to confuse. But, they've got that sensibility, if you know what we mean.

Imagine some urban cowboy wandering into a local jukejoint only to be faced with this glorious racket, shit-amped guitars through busted speakers, some guy hollerin' wounded goat over the bluescowpunk mess. Feller would probably crap his Lee's and wanna start a fight with then nearest got-damned queer in a flannel next to him. By god.

Nah, it aint Country, not at all. You've been warned. But it could be if Hank downed some speed, dropped his twang, and hopped up on stage with the Oblivians. Or not at all. Hyper-amped, garage-fuelled, amphetamine muckity muck.

We came too late to name this one of our best records of last year. "Napoleon" is one of the songs that haven't left our rekkid player all this year. And Pure Country Gold have a relatively brand spankin' new E.P. out this year (from which "Witchtown" is taken), that's sure to make an appearance in our Top Records of the year down the line.

It's Punk! It's Trash! It's Yummy.

Pure Country Gold: Don't Blame Me (mp3)

Pure Country Gold: Napoleon (mp3)

Pure Country Gold: Ode To Wendie Joe (mp3)

From the 2008 E.P- P.C.G.E.P (ripped from vinyl)

Pure Country Gold: Witchtown (mp3)


Please support your local, independent dive bar and honky tonk.

Happy Endings

Holding pattern. Sort of.

We will have an official announcement on our next post (which is almost completed, believe it or not...should be coming soon, and it's well worth your time). What's the announcement, you ask? Well, if you're clever you might guess (and if you're like me, and not clever at all, try looking at my "profile"...that's all I'm gonna say.)

Truth be told, it's harder to make a mix than to hunker down and write an actual post. But it's probably more fun to make that mix. And, well, the following mix has a clue to the next post. So there you are. How exciting is that?

The following mix is a special tribute to all y'all who've stuck with us for the past few years, through my sporadic posting, rants'n'raves, political excursions (which I make no apologies for), obsessions, pecadillos, and whatnot. I honestly can't believe some of y'all have stuck around this long..."and death will have no dominion..".

Key tracks: "Willin", "Cemetary Row", "Cancion Para Mi Padre", "Barstool Mountain", "L.A. Freeway", "Blues Run the Game", and, of course, "We Believe In Happy Endings". But, really, every damn song stands on it's own. It's all fiddles and organs, innit?

Despite the title, we're not going away. Yet. We're stubborn that way, and we've got some more ground to cover, and Xmas is coming soon, believe it or not, and you know what that means. Good times and sparkly lites.

Please enjoy the following mix, then, created especially...for you.

I do not know when it was
that you promised to stay,
only that, in the morning,
when you stayed,
the sun rose a little brighter,
fragile in it's illumination
and brighter than ten thousand fireflies.
You shone like the seven seas, then,
caught between the dipping of the moon
and the turning of the globe.
And something brighter
than these poor misted eyes can fathom,
a spark of life lived, plucked,
and held in calloused palms,
forever in now.
You were the stars I travelled,
The mountain I climbed,
until the rarefied air of ascent
took my breath away.

Big Rock Happy Endings Mix
(MP3 link follows track listing, of course)

1. Send Down That Rain (Brother Claude Ely)
2. Everybody Wants to See Heaven, Nobody Wants To Die (Black Oak Arkansas)
3. I Only Know (Tom House)
4. Take A Drink On Me (Charlie Poole)
5. Alcohol and #2 Diesel (The Willis Brothers)
6. I Gotta Get Drunk (Joe Carson)
7. Your Squaw Is On the Warpath (Loretta Lynn)
8. Saturday Satan, Sunday Saint (Ernest Tubb)
9. Sleepy-Eyed John (Johnny Horton)
10. Hey Me, I'm Riding (Lee Hazlewood)
11. Salt Lake City (The Dwarves)
12. El Paso City (Marty Robbins)
13. Porch Song (Trailer Bride)
14. Water Into Wine (Slim Cessna's Auto Club)
15. Willin' (Little Feat)
16. Pecan Pie (Golden Smog)
17. Cemetery Row (Minus 5)
18. Good For Nothing (Freakwater)
19. Cancion Para Mi Padre (Sally Timms)
20. Visit Me In Music City (Bobby Bare Jr.)
21. (We're Not The) Jet Set (George Jones and Tammy Wynette)
22. Barstool Mountain (Johnny Paycheck)
23. Drinkin' and Dreamin' (Waylon Jennings)
24. L.A. Freeway (Guy Clark)
25. Blues Run The Game (Jackson C. Frank)
26. Border Radio (Dave Alvin)
27. On My Way Downtown (Peter Case)
28. Begin (Lambchop)
29. We Believe In Happy Endings (The Dry Branch Fire Squad)

Big Rock Happy Endings (mp3)

Please support your local, independent, whatever....

Heaven Is A Truck

Well.

We lost another one. I'm a few days late on this, but couldn't let the passing pass. Shit, I've got a memorial to another, and forgotten, legend that I've been working on since May.

But today it's all about Jerry Reed, who died on August 31st.

I posted about Reed a couple of years ago:

"Born and raised in Atlanta, Reed was already a shit-hot guitarist (dubbed "The Guitar Man" during his subsequent time in Nashville) by the time he recorded his first songs at the age of 18. He recorded some forgotten, or forgettable, country and rockabilly sides in the 50's, with his best success coming off a Gene Vincent treatment of his song "Crazy Legs". During the 60's he released some pretty solid singles and spent his downtime doing session work as a guitarist.

Finally the 70's dropped and Reed hit his commercial and artistic stride with such classics and "Amos Moses" and "When You're Hot You're Hot", amongst others. Reed mixed modern Country and Cajun swamp trash, brewing a moonshine still's worth of tonky love.

Reed was never really included in conversations involving the Outlaw movement circling around Willie, Waylon, et. al, and his flirtation with Hollywood, with the exception of the immortal Smokey and the Bandit (from which I chose my avatar, obviously), suggested that maybe he wasn't too concerned with working outside the carefully drawn lines of the established entertainment industry. Who knows? But somehow his songs sounded different, more raw and alive than the usual Nashville fare. It's music for southern country roads, topping the century mark in a hopped up muscle car round dangerous curves. Or maybe it's music for beater pickup trucks, with the gun rack barely holding on. Better yet, a pontoon boat hauling illegal whatnot through a Louisiana swamp."

Not sure how much I have to add to that. "East Bound and Down" is one of our favorite songs here at the Mountain, certainly one of the greatest Truckin' songs ever laid to wax. And regular visitors will know how highly we rate the Truckin' song.

Safe travels, Jerry Reed.


Jerry Reed: East Bound And Down (mp3)

Jerry Reed: Texas Bound and Flying (mp3)

Jerry Reed: Alabama Wild Man (mp3)

Jerry Reed: Free Born Man (mp3)

Jerry Reed: That Lucky Old Sun (Just Rolled Around Heaven All Day) (mp3)

Jerry Reed: Amos Moses (mp3)

Jerry Reed: Guitar Man (mp3)

Please support your local, independent Guitar Men and Women.

Beaumont to Lake Charles

Personal opinion and mp3's to follow. You've been warned.

God Damn and Mother Fuck the Republicans for politicizing this. How dare they. The hypocrisy is palpable, and I don't think the American public is so gullible as to fall for this brand of horse shit. Our memories may be short in this country, but I don't think we can forget "Heck of a job Brownie" that easily. You fucked up with Katrina, and we're expected to give you kudos this time around for doing your job, like you couldn't three years ago? Fuck that bullshit. And to celebrate how attuned you are now, and what great things you're doing for the people of Louisiana, Mississippi, Texas, Florida, and Alabama is facile and pure political manipulation. Fuck you. You're doing your job, and we're supposed to be impressed? We don't think so.

And fuck the Democrats if they try to pull the same bullshit.

It's about people, innit? Their livelihoods, homes, photographs, possessions,jobs, pets,lives. Not some political maneuvering for election year wrangling. Christ, what's wrong with our so-called leaders? Just do your job, help the people who live in our country, without patting your fucking selves on the back. Is that so goddamned hard? Apparently.

If you want to respond to this with some jingoistic Fox News/Rush Limbaugh-approved bullshit, feel free. I'll deconstruct your ass in public. I don't give a rat's ass. How dare you make this political. Disgusting.

How do you leave your home, when you live paycheck to paycheck, and all that you are is small plot of land and series of planks?

Please note that one of the following tunes, James McMurtry's "Hurricane Party", is not remotely a party song. It's one of the saddest, most prescient surveys of lives in the balance, and features the haunting line, "...there's no one to talk to, when the lines go down".

Courage.

James McMurtry: Hurricane Party (mp3)

Lucinda Williams: Lake Charles (mp3)

Blue Mountain: Banks of the Pontchartrain (mp3)

Hayes Carll: Beaumont (mp3)

Please support any relief agency that's not interested in any political affiliation, but is only concerned with helping folks in need.

Thee Atomic Jesus

Oh my!

We said we'd have a legend coming up, and sure enough, we do.

Thee Legendary Asthmatic Avenger is, well, a little special. Is he Country? Is he Trash? Is he a genius? Is he mildly...differently-abled? We think he's all of the above. With an emphasis on "Country genius". For context, we feel compelled to quote a bit from his bio on his website (sic, of course):

"Among the big upholders of the law of this world, one finds Superman, the Pope, Batman, or still Wonder Woman to quote only those there. Lowering batard of this family of more or less masked avengers, the MYSTERIOUS ASTHMATIC AVENGER has for mission to save the world of the moral order, the Cartesianism and the precarious and mental balance which characterizes the human race.
Endowed well on great unlimited powers, it is with the devilish precision, that he massacres and simplifies for you the big classical authors of Rock n Roll, making them so accessible to all. Masked, wearing an antigravity cap, armed with his marvelous Haze, the enchanted guitar, Mysterious asthmatic avenger composes also makes the crowds jodel ! His idols are Hasil Adkins, Jack Starr, and Franzel Lang.
So the avenging minstrell goes away on roads and meets on a night of thunderstorm ZARGHLA, the god made from French stinking cheese. It is only while Mysterious becomes the first apostle of the Big Milky, and will go to preach the good, serving disorder causes him of this new religion: the ZARGHLISME. Primitive rites used in the celebration of this cult associate among others trow of sausages Knacky (or of Strasbourg and possibly Frankfort), Tyrolean yodel, and cheese immolation.
When Mysterious Asthmatic Avenger sings Zarghla's praises, accompanied by him every only one in the guitar, the cymbal and the rhythmic suitcase, the country-folk-psychiatric music flies away in the limits of the hard-gore accoustic musical experiments, for the biggest happiness of the heavenly Camembert which looks at him of height..."

What more do you need to know? Who is this mysterious Masked Man? Is he really the god-like Reverend/Lightning Beat-Man? Is he someone else entirely, a man on a trailer trash mission from the yee-haw Country gods of scunge mountain garbage? From another continent? Maybe. Does he meet every requirement we, the Immortal Mountain, ask of the rock and the roll?

Perhaps this record was recorded in a bucket, with a hole in it. Perhaps in some junkyard with the ghosts of Hasil Adkins, Jimmie Skinner, and Jimmie Rodgers (it's the yodel, kids) banging on pots and pans and nodding vocal approval over the proceedings. A mountain heart with a garbage collector's soul.

The following atomic powered songs of Jesus and the end of the world are taken from the essential record "My Mother Killed Rock and Roll (in 1979)", committed to acetate with the help of Voodoo Rhythm Records very own Thee Watzloves and special guest Hortense "Pneumonia" Blutchinson.

This may be the most essential thing you'll hear all year! Hyperbole intact!

A stompin', hillbilly, revival meetin' good time! Ripped from glorious 10" Vinyl!!


Thee Mysterious Asthmatic Avenger: Atomic Power (mp3)

Thee Mysterious Asthmatic Avenger: Rock and Roll Killed My Mother (mp3)

Thee Mysterious Asthmatic Avenger: My Name Is Jesus (mp3)

Thee Mysterious Asthmatic Avenger: Jesus Walking (mp3)

Please support your local, independent masked marvels.

Country Sunshine

Stay tuned for a very important poll and announcement. Really. No kidding. You know, when I get around to it. In glacial Big Rock Candy Mountain Time.

Now.

Dottie West is one of those strange Country conundrums. Most of her work was, frankly, comprised of, and compromised by, bad Countrypolitan production, a victim of the times (Her heyday was the late 60's through the 70's) more than her talent. She possessed a sultry, almost smoky, honky tonk voice, rough around the edges with a knowing nod, and posterity can only dream of what it would sound like backed by a proper mountain music, hardwood scootin' yeehaw band. As it is, though, one can find some fantastic nuggets in her catalog.

West's career began with plenty of promise. With close friendships with the likes of Willie Nelson, Roger Miller and, especially, Patsy Cline, West was certainly exposed to the cream of the crop in Country vocalists and composers. You can hear their influence on her even through the syrupy instrumentation of her later years. Hooking up with Chet Atkins at the boards, West released a slew of classic-sounding records focusing on more traditional, but ballad-heavy, fare including the hits "Paper Mansions" and "Would You Hold It Against Me". Those records dipped into the cheese, as it were, but still retained a traditional feel. She was eventually welcomed into to the Grand Ol' Opry's family of performers.

Then came a popular soft drink company, which signed West on as a jingle writer, of all things, for it's commercials, based largely on the success of her song "Country Girl". This contract led eventually to the smash single (and arguably one of West's best songs, believe it or not) "Country Sunshine". What followed was a strange career path, low-lighted by financial and marital troubles, a session with Oui Magazine, and declining musical credibility as a solo artist (though not according to the charts...Country was moving into it's "bad" period).

Oddly, during this time, West shined as a duet partner, recording some killer singles with the likes of Jim Reeves, Don Gibson, and, yes, Kenny Rogers. The mid-to-late 80's were not particularly kind to West.

West died in a car accident in 1991.

Perhaps one of the most important aspect of West's career was her ability early on in her career, in an era dominated by men, where female Country artists were compelled to follow male dictates and "opinionated" women were looked down upon, to do things the way she wanted. Like Dolly Parton, she took no shit, made the records she wanted, and resolutely rejected, until her unfortunate turn in the 80's towards men's magazine photo shoots, the generic over-sexualization of her image. (To be fair, Parton was sexualized, but it was her own choice, and demands an extended look that we're not prepared, at this point, to go into). The later disappointments in her music choices suggest that she may have been more willing toward compromise.

And her voice...good gravy, a hell of voice. Did we mention that already?


"Country Sunshine", despite having it's origins as a commercial, is one of our favorite songs. Remove the aspect of selling product, and you get a sweet, sweet evocation of a lost era where Country music could convey a lifestyle less redneck and more innocent. "Delta Dawn", with it's heavenly Country Gospel chorus does Bobbie Gentry one better in Southern circumstance. "Reno", could easily be viewed as a woman's response to Mary Robbin's burnt desert classic "El Paso". I challenge anyone, and I mean anyone, who can't can't resist the urge to grab that special someone and dance along to "Anyone Who Isn't Me Tonight", Kenny Rogers be damned. "Last Time I Saw Him" (with killer, last-road-trip banjo and fiddle) has one of West's best vocals. With "I'm Your Country Girl" you can fall in love with girl in the gingham dress. And, finally, who can't help but raise a toast to West's take on Mountain fave rave "Night Life".



Dottie West: Country Sunshine (mp3)

Dottie West: Delta Dawn (Ripped from vinyl)(mp3)

Dottie West: Reno (mp3)

Dottie West w/Kenny Rogers(!): Anyone Who Isn't Me Tonight (mp3)

Dottie West: Last Time I Saw Him (mp3)

Dottie West: I'm Your Country Girl(Ripped from Vinyl)(mp3)

Dottie West: Night Life (mp3)

Please consider your local, independent record store for all your cosmopolitan recordings.

Good Gravy!!!!

Oh my golly gee, where have we been the last month? Oh, hell. How reliable are we, anyway? We've been busy with seeing Tom Waits (godhead, of course) and attending the Pitchfork Festival (Where King Khan owned the world, and Times New Viking kicked said world's ass in less than a half an hour). We'll visit those folks later.

But.

So, for your weekend enjoyment, and not a holding pattern whatsoever,really, we present....The Greatest Song Ever Written (in 7 Parts).



Little Feat: Willin' (mp3)

or

Alison Krauss and Union Station: Everytime You Say Goodbye (mp3)

or

Legendary Stardust Cowboy: Paralyzed (mp3)

or

Louis Armstrong: Skokiaan (mp3)

or

Replacements: Can't Hardly Wait (mp3)

or

Wreckless Eric: Whole Wide World (mp3)

or

Marty Robbins: El Paso (mp3)

Nah, who am I kidding, there's no such a thing as a greatest song ever (I mean, hell, where's "Rex's Blues", really?). I'm just pulling your leg. Shoot, we've changed out mind the minute we posted this (with the exception of "Willin'", but we've got a Little Feat post coming up where we'll defend out position). Just wanted to see if anyone was still out there. And, well, we do really, really like the above songs. And you should too.

See you soon, with an obituary, a Dottie, the son of a famous author, a Legend, variations on a theme, some mixes, and a special announcement/request. Mmmm hmmm.

Keep on rockin' in the free world, kiddies.