I’m a native Hoosier and grew up going to the Speedway. Racing runs deep in my veins and my connection to that place is nearly religious. That’s why the announcement broke my heart.

Charlie Daniels is nothing short of a racist bigot.

I’m sure the loonies are sharpening their knives right now, but I can’t sit by idly when Daniels sells blackface “Mammy” dolls in his museum and makes derogatory comments about nearly every racial and religious group other than his own. Yet he claims to be a fair man who calls them as he sees them–he’s not racist, just honest.

And therein lies the problem: it’s hard to attack a guy who is right about free speech but wrong in the ways he uses it. His use of hyperbole and the lowest-common-denominator jingoism isn’t patriotic–it’s offensive. This guy has an opinion albeit poorly formed and based on nothing more than catchy made-up stories and chest-thumping.

Here are a few of Charlie’s more enlightened quotes:

This ain’t no rag, it’s a flag and we don’t wear it on our heads. It’s a symbol of the land where the good guys live. Are you listening to what I said?

This is no longer a problem, it is a dilemma and headed for being a tragedy. Do you honestly think that what happened in France with the Muslims can’t happen here when the businesses who hire these people finally run out of jobs and a few million disillusioned Hispanics take to the streets?

This is another by product of homosexuality and anyone who says that it is a natural lifestyle should go and stick their heads under some very cold water. Homosexuality is not a normal thing and has produced some of the most brutal, gory murders in the history of this nation. Don’t take my word for it. Ask any homicide officer in the country. Is this normal? It ruins the lives of young people.

When the A.C.L.U. and other groups spend millions of dollars to get slabs of stone with the Ten Commandments written on them removed from public places it’s silly.

Why can’t people turn a blind eye to them if they don’t want to see them?

Why has (the Sept. 11 attack) happened?…We’ve shaken our fists in God’s face far too long…We have murdered untold millions of unborn children and tolerated an immoral president in the name of a good economy. We have proclaimed that homosexuality is just another lifestyle when the Bible clearly states that it is an abomination of God.

When Jesse Jackson stands on an inner city street corner and blames all the black community’s problems on the white race when right around the corner there’s a crack cocaine dealer hawking his wares it’s silly.

So I’m going to go toe-to-toe with this issue. I’m starting a drive right here to get Daniels tossed off the bill. You can lodge your complaint by using the Speedway’s contact form. While you’re at it drop an email to NASCAR to lodge the same complaint!

I’d recommend being polite and requesting that the Speedway deject racism by canceling the band’s appearance. Remember, do so nicely!

Much like my pals, The Nadas, my hometown bore the brunt of the recent midwestern floods. Lives lost or irreversibly altered aren’t that uncommon for these folks–they’ve survived much worse over the years and are as resilient as they come. Still, in times like this they need a helping hand.

The guys from Authentic Records are doing their best to help put Iowa back together:

Announcing The Authentic Records’ Unsanctioned & Uncensored Hy-Vee Triathlon After Party & Benefit Show. Join us after the big race (Sunday, June 22) at AK’s Beaverdale in Des Moines, Iowa.

Proceeds from sales of Benjamin’s brand-new CD, “The Invention Of Everything Else,” an Authentic Records silent auction, a forthcoming charity EP, plus cash donations will all benefit the United Way of Central Iowa. Details:

June, 22 8pm-12am
AK O’Connors
4050 Urbandale Ave
Beaverdale, Iowa

Benjamin Wagner
Josh Davis
Tony Bohnenkamp
Fat Andy’s Will Peterson & Jim Stockberger
The Nadas’ Mike Butterworth & Jason Walsmith
And More!!!

It’s worth the time folks…

Seriously…has anyone shaped the face of Americana music more than Jason and the Scorchers?

The Americana Music Association is proud to announce pioneers Jason and the Scorchers will receive the prestigious Lifetime Achievement in Performance Award at the annual Americana Honors and Awards show Thursday, September 18 at the Ryman Auditorium. Original Jason and the Scorchers members Jason Ringenberg, Warner Hodges, Jeff Johnson and Perry Baggs will be on hand not only to accept the honor, but to perform together for the first time in more than a decade.

While we’re at it, an unnamed, yet hardly unknown guitarist whose work has helped shape Americana music and I agreed on something today: without Jason and the Scorchers there’d be no alt-country.

This came up in a discussion of a recent list of the best alt-country guitarists which noticeably didn’t include Warner Hodges! It’s a shame that he (as well as Buddy Miller, Alejandro Escavedo, Pete Anderson, Dan Baird, Jesse Taylor, and Brian Henneman) didn’t make this list of the top 10 alt-country guitarists. With his theatrics and grinding guitar, Hodges is one of the high-water marks in this genre.

Still, it’s good to see the boys get their due. I can’t imagine where we were before they hit the stage!

Original from Wikipedia

Diddley, the stage name of Ellas Bates, was arguably the guitar progeny that launched rock n’ roll. From his rollicking recordings from Checker Records to his trademark rhythmic thumping of his guitar, Diddley redefined popular music in the modern era.

It worked.

White, originally a Floridian, can best be described as an quirky poet of the strange with sideburns. With his roots deeply nestled in the American south and his branches twisted into a variety of musical genres, the music is a slippery medium for his sometimes bizarre, and ultimately entertaining stories:

I’m handcuffed to a fence in Mississippi.
My girlfriend blows a boozy good-bye kiss.
I see flying squirrels and nightmares of stigmata.
Then awakening to find my Trans-Am gone.

According to Wikipedia White has at times held some interesting jobs such as boxer, preacher and cab driver. Surely the stories overheard in the locker room, pews and the backseat of a taxi lead to some of the imagery White evokes.

Right now it appears that Jim is on tour in Europe. Catch him if you can!

So Gibson (yes, the guitar people) have struck out and named the top five alt-country albums of all time. Well, Dave Hunter writing on behalf of Gibson made the list anyway. That’s quite the task since the genre really is a loose-association of underground music essentially, but one they undertook with gleeful abandon:

This is a doozy of a task, folks, but so it is with picking a best five albums in any genre. With the full awareness that passions can run high when you get to ranking good music, and fans of alt-country and Americana are going to have their own favorites, undoubtedly…

Before we go any further, let me state unequivocally that opinions are like assholes–it’s best to keep it to yourself. But, I rarely have the compunction to follow advice, let alone good advice. Such lack of forethought is a hallmark of my life.

First, let me commend Mr. Hunter for his unwillingness to follow logical constructs. Such tasteless endeavors as building a defensible argument are a waste of time to critics. He docks Wilco’s AM for being too much like Uncle Tupelo while praising Son Volt’s Trace for the same quality. Kudos to Hunter for writing like a fan rather than a pissed off “journalist” who only blogs to bide time to finish his novel.

Second, the guy nails Ryan Adams for being a pompous fool–find me one person other than Ryan Adams and his publicist that will disagree with that one. OK…and maybe his mother.

But the real mustard here is that the list is complete. While everyone will have different opinions about the top 5 alt-country albums, everyone and the brother will agree that you can listen to the albums on the list between Tupelo and its spawns, The Jayhawks, and Whiskeytown and have a very good feeling for what defines the genre. I can’t think of five better albums to play for someone who wanted to understand what alt-country sounds like.

Lord knows I bought plenty of Garth Brooks albums in the day, but looking back on it now I realize he was graced by picking songs by some good songwriters like Tony Arata, Stephanie Davis, Kent Blazy, Larry Cordle, Victoria Shaw, Pat Alger and Ty England to name a few. Of course, he covered folks like Cowboy Jack Clement, Tim O’Brien, Pierce Pettis, Darrell Scott, Shawn Camp, Billy Joel and on one horrific occasion, Aerosmith.

But what in the blue blazes caused him to wear a hat that’s two sizes too small on the Country Music Awards? He looked like his giant melon had been mushed into that thing.

And Trisha Yearwood was equally squished into that blue dress.

I’m a jacket reader. In fact, their not really album jackets anymore, but CD inserts, but I’m stuck in my ways. Regardless, I read the credits, thank you notes and the like. Call it an addiction if you will.

Over the years I’ve constantly noticed Tom Littlefield’s name popping up. From Todd Snider, Tommy Womack and Jack Ingram to my classic Steve Earle records, he’s there. Like a bad cold that won’t go away, I developed a nagging need to know more. I worshipped at the trusty alter of Google and was promptly answered with, “Huh? No idea who that is.” I dropped a few hints around folks who know Tom and the only query that proved fruitful only commented that he was known to be “irascible.”

I had to look it up too. Go ahead. I’ll still be here when you get back. And check the pronunciation closely because it’s easy to get wrong.

Well Mr. Littlefield turned up in my hometown this week on vacation and took the time (off the record) to trade stories with me over a beer or three. Not only is he far from irascible, he’s barely surly as he assured me he would be.

So to honor my new friend, who has promised to help broaden my musical horizons here are a few albums on which I know you can find his contributions as a performer (via ArtistDirect): Tom’s performing credits

I’ll get to work on a list of the records upon which his songs appear. It’ll take a while…he’s what we call “prolific” in this business.

For all you aspiring Myspace stars out there, let me pass along a nugget of knowledge to add to your PR acumen: you cannot endear yourself to a critic by signing him up for your mailing list without approval.

Let me start by saying that “Cody” as I’ll call this act, surely has learned that self-promotion is critical. Today fans expect a Myspace site, Facebook site, Twitters (whatever that is), and the like. It’s a grassroots thing and that’s cool. Artists claw their way to respect by aggregating as many “friends” and mailing list signups as possible. I get it even though I’m really just pretending to give a damn.

Just leave me the fuck out of it.

Please.

I mean it.

So Cody took the bold move to acquire more readers for his email newsletter by sending me a this little gem:

Please sign up for our mailing list and stay in touch!
~Cody
——————————-
You have been added to the The Cody XXXXX band fan list!

Wait a minute. The first line asks me to signup while the latter message indicates I had already signed up.

This has prompted me to take the opposite action that Cody and his band would prefer: they’ve been blacklisted.

That’s right. When the band accumulates ten million friends on Myspace, you won’t find me among the throng. When the shows are sold out and they release their triple-platinum greatest hits disc, I won’t even listen. When flocks of fornicating teenagers decide to name their illegitimate children “Cody” because they did it to his songs, I will write nary a word about the band. These will be the last words I ever write about this act.

Let this serve as a lesson before you sign me up for your mailing list.

The boys are well-worn in the live scene, garnering an avid following in the short years since their transformation from standalone songwriters to an accomplished quintet. With two live discs under the belt and a rising star in the live music capital of the world, the band’s reputation precedes this record. In fact, I was so stunned that this is their first studio disc.

Drawing upon their live album from Antone’s, the disc features a batch of new songs dabbled with old favorites–something of a balancing act producer Ray Wylie Hubbard successfully employs to engage those familiar with the band’s live shows while introducing the rest of us to their energy. From the opening bell (”Don’t Call On Me”) to the finale (”Hallelujah”), Hubbard captures the essential ebb and flow of a live setlist without the usual dilution that studio work can bring.

Something of a songwriting supergroup, the Heathens lent great support to Hubbard by writing every song the record. While this isn’t a prerequisite in an era when good looks are more important than good material, it belies a great confidence. That irreverent buck of the corporate truck is apparent from their willingness to release an eponymous album on their own label filled with material they wrote. Hell, they’re even good country songs which inevitably means Nashville will certainly ignore them due to the lack of a rapping midget or the fact that they don’t bother hiding their intelligence. You’d have to go a long way to find another band with better material on their first record.

The resulting vintage goodness is a nostalgic, familiar feeling for even in the newly-initiated listener. Like a reassuring handshake from a stranger, this introduction might be the start of a long relationship.

The Band of Heathens will be available on May 20, 2008 from their own label. Visit http://www.bandofheathens.com for more information.

BONUS:
Don’t Call On Me