Todd Snider has told me (and just about everyone who has heard the Willis Allen Ramsey story) that he lives in a fashion that allows him to collect his things and leave any place in 15 minutes or less.

Being back out here for a few days has taught me to carry less shit just like Todd recommended. Lugging around too much stuff is in my very nature as a perpetual worrier. With little or no internal restraints I would carry around everything I owned for as much as a night over. Once here however, having less to carry is nice. So for me I need (in no particular order):

1. Guitar
2. Laptop
3. iPod
4. Wife
5. Cat
6. Notebooks--lots of them

Now that I've enumerated my critical belongings I'm determined to return to this living. So Todd, wherever you are tonight, I've finally listened and think I could get out in 15 minutes or less.

I used to work on the road quite a bit and the sites were always bizarre. Living in hotel rooms can be quite surreal and you find yourself doing anything to find a small dose of normality.

Today I'm not on the road much but I have been more as of late than normal. Yesterday I checked into this mammoth hotel where there was some kind of boy-band fashion show going on. There were hoards of teenagers wearing the most inane clothes on the planet. Despite the fact that it was over 80 degrees I saw no less than three girls wearing snow boots with skirts. Also of note was the number of different facial hair designs the men were sporting--appeared to be some kind of obscure contest. The funny part of all of this is that the show was called "Fashion Rock." If this is how you have to dress to be a rock star I'm screwed.

It's not just the weird people you see and meet on the road that makes it a wonderfully strange existence--it's the hotel rooms. I've stayed in tons of hotels with multi-legged roommates. I've stayed in lots of nice rooms too but for every great room I've had there are twelve more I would classify as rooms with character. The best room I've had was over at the Portofino Bay Hotel in Orlando. I picked it because I got a hell of a rate and got there only to find out that it was unbelievably beautiful with great restaurants and an Italian car show. The worst are nearly innumerable. I remember this joint in Macon, Georgia off the interstate. I pulled in late and got this room that maybe cost just more than a tank of gas. I had a cold which is a common thing on the road for me so I was toting about half a bottle of Nyquil. Anyway, I opened the door and the nasty stale smell of a cheap hotel room was overwhelmed by the stench of beer-soaked carpet. Nearly dead or asleep, I took the room and a healthy shot of the Nyquil which I placed on the bathroom counter and laid upon the slab they called a bed, carefully avoiding the side of the bed with stains on the sheets. About three that morning I was awoken by an argument between two men who apparently were lovers outside my door. Truckers both, I had no intention of asking two large angry men to keep it down. So I decided for more Nyquil. So in the dark I fumbled for the Nyquil and when my hand found the bottle I felt a crawling crunch--ants. The entire counter was covered in ants as was the bottle. I went back to bed and struggled through the early morning hours with two gay truckers arguing outside. Yes, the rooms are just as strange as the people.

With his upcoming movie, Greendale, and the "musical novel" CD with the same name, Neil Young is getting considerable press. Last week while touring in support of the CD and movie his vegetable-oil burning convoy made headlines. This week it is an onslaught by NPR.

The CD and movie depict three generations of the Green family in a faustian tale of corporate greed and sorrow. Far from a standard take on selling your soul to Satan, the story follows the troubles an artist bears in today's world. The interesting twist is that the devil doesn't make the standard offer--he simply helps out without asking. When the artist's work becomes a hot commodity he has little choice but to take the hellish bargain.

You can catch Young's appearance on NPR's Fresh Air, All Songs Considered, and Weekend Edition here.

I'm working on a story about disappearing music stores. I keep hearing stories about how Wal-Mart, FYE, or any other larger chain has run your favorite store out of town.

Do me a favor and leave a comment on the "Discuss" link below. Be sure to include the name of the store, what you liked about it, where it was located, and what happened.

Thanks!

Rock and roll isn't dead but it's increasingly difficult to collar a real rock album at your local record store. Today's record labels are obsessed with the youth culture and the music they feel kids want to buy. In my opinion, it is no more than pure commercial bullshit with not one honest rock album being at the top of any record executive's priority list today.

Let's not get too far into that discussion however because we each have an opinion. Mine is what matters today because it happens to be my website. Fuck the rest of you.

Back to my tirade.

There are real rockers left in the world regardless of what little radio play they may get. Some southern rockers, some blues rockers, some unadulterated oldie rockers. Among the endangered species of rocker americanus is Tommy Womack. Part blues, part country, mostly rock is Washington D.C., Womack's resurgent recording from last year.

Beset with screaming Telecasters and howling vocals, the starkly honest songwriting is couched in what can only be described as pure rock and roll. From the portent "I Don't Have a Gun" written with Will Kimbrough to the alternative-leaning "A Little Bit of Sex" Womack plain rocks the joint. Of course it wouldn't be a Tommy Womack record without social criticism such as the lead track "Betty Was Black" which details an interracial relationship and the stress fractures caused by merely mentioning such a thing. From the biting first note to the last scream this album rocks.

Go run and buy it from Tommy or IndieCity.net.

James McMurtry has lived through more than one change of occupation. At various points in his career, the son of famed author Larry McMurtry, painted houses, attempted acting, tended bar, and even studied languages at the University of Arizona. Now settled into the life of road-weary songwriter and performer, he has released Live in Aught-Three with his band the Heartless Bastards.

Clearly at home on the stage, McMurtry seems to stalk his songs like a gunslinger on this album. Each song has a dirt-in-the-eye quality that makes for perfect barroom banter. His band ably provides firepower as he kicks open the door with songs like "Red Dress" and "Choctaw Bingo."

The album's highlights however are McMurtry's more thoughtful moments on "Rachel's Song" and "Lights of Cheyenne." During both these the songwriting patience exuded results in meaty moments bound to stick to the listener.

The performances given are exceptionally consistent even if they are not going to win McMurtry any vocal awards. The Heartless Bastards shine as able but not overwhelming accompaniement. If anything takes centerstage it's McMurtry's current occupation of storytelling. The songs are deep without being pretentious, vivid without being wordy.

You can and should pick up this album on March 24th from Compadre Records.

CNN reports that Neil Young is touring the country supporting his last album Greendale and movie of the same title using American-farmed vegetable oil. Young, a founder of Farm Aid, has 17 vehicles converted from traditional diesel fuel to vegetable oil-burning beasts cruising the highways.

Young along with his band, Crazy Horse, are carried by the biodiesel vehicles along his tour which concludes March 21. The tour, including the political and environmental message, intends to promote the equally ambitious "musical novel" styled around Young's Greendale.

Kris Atha kindly provided this painting entitled "Will in Fern's Basement" to celebrate Will Kimbrough Day. Thanks Kris!

Tuesday, March 16, 2004 has been declared Will Kimbrough Appreciation Day to honor one of music's most overlooked talents.

Will Kimbrough, best known for his guitar work with Rodney Crowell among others, is one the most talented songwriters, producers, and performers of our generation. Whether writing his own material for an upcoming album, producing someone else's breakthrough, or recording with some of the music industry's most popular artists, Kimbrough is the first name on my tongue when someone says, "musician." His credits read like a "Who's Who" among music hip and elite. His last two albums, Home Away and Godsend were strong enough to land Kimbrough on Nashville's A-list.

That said, he's a relative unknown when it comes to the general population. Today we intend to try to help change that by promoting Will's work.

First, here are some important links:

• Will's WaxySilver site
• My interview with Will
• The Harbinger interview with Will
• MoutainX interview with Will
• Guitarzan-Will Kimbrough photos (Thanks Lynda!)

Second, some tips for making this a success:

1. Buy a Will Kimbrough album
2. Lend a friend a Will Kimbrough album
3. Sign up for Will's newsletter
4. Call your local radio station to request a Will Kimbrough song
5. Sing "Goodnight Moon" to your kids before bedtime
6. Make a comment here about Will's music

Finally, here are some banners and buttons for use on your own website to promote Will's work:

<a href="http://www.sharkbitten.com/archives/2004_03.php#000279"><img src="http://www.sharkbitten.com/images/wkad.jpg"></a>

<a href="http://www.sharkbitten.com/archives/2004_03.php#000279"><img src="http://www.sharkbitten.com/images/wktile.jpg"></a>

<a href="http://www.waxysilver.com"><img src="http://www.sharkbitten.com/images/wkbutton.gif"></a>

The New Rhythm and Blues Quartet, better known as NRBQ, is as varied in influences and sound as any band in modern history. Likewise The Q People: A Tribute to NRBQ is equally ranging in the artists paying homage. From Yo La Tengo to SpongeBob Squarepants (yes, that SpongeBob), the list reads like a directory of eclectic genre-benders each lined up to honor their cult heroes.

At first glance you might expect Steve Earle or Widespread Panic to steal the show but my favorite tracks on the album were from REM's Mike Mills and little known Settie. Mills offers a fantastic alt.country vocal performance on "When Things Was Cheap." Settie, an rock duo from Massachussetts, shines on a retro-80s version of "Ridin' in My Car."

The rest of the album isn't filler by any means and pays fitting tribute to a band that embraced nearly every musical genre in some form. It's a funky trip through NRBQ's past narrated by some exceptionally capable storytellers. Each rendition on the album is a little bit of NRBQ and a little bit of the artist retelling the story-- just the way NRBQ would have it.

You can get the disc on March 9th from Spirithouse Records. A portion of the proceeds benefit VH1's Save the Music Foundation.

Being a relatively slow news day and having four or five half-written reviews that show little hope of being finished today, I've decided to let you all in on a very big secret writers know in place of any substantial work. Run and get your notepads and pens. Got 'em? Here it goes:

When you have nothing to write, write about nothing.

Fancy schools will call it "stream of consciousness" or something, but in reality you sit down and write whatever comes to mind. I write most of my songs this way and know several famous songwriters who do the same--of course having a modicum of talent to begin with means the resulting rambling has a greater propensity to result in a decent song.

Here are some tips to help you when you're having the same kind of mental block I am currently suffering:

1. Write anything regardless of its relevance to anything
   
2. Forget everything you know--it really is worthless
   
3. Don't worry about grammar, rhyming, punctuation, capitalization, spelling
   
4. Drinking may help relieve inhibitions but it really makes handwriting difficult
   

I can tell you where I was fifteen years ago, February 26, 1989.

I was in Lexington, Kentucky attending a concert.

It wasn't one I wanted to go to, though. Skid Row and Bon Jovi were playing Rupp Arena, and my still-in-high-school girlfriend wanted to see them both. Very badly. Knowing what was good for me, I got tickets for us and some of our friends and off we went. While she enjoyed the show, I can only remember being miserable. Now, I will admit, I did listen to some of those late-1980s "hair bands" - Tesla and Cinderella CDs hold a dusty place in my collection - but a strutting pretty boy named Sebastian and some hair-sprayed Jersey Boys were not my idea of an enjoyable evening. Then or now.

You might notice today that there are a few new links at the top of the main page. First, I'd like to introduce you to IndieCity--a great place to find music by independent artists. Wander over to that website and sign up for the newsletter where you'll find a new column written by yours truly. As they get ramped up over there you'll find the music we write about available on IndieCity. Why IndieCity? No shipping for one thing, but you'll also find some eclectic music that you otherwise may not hear about.

Second, check out the new gear available. We have new logowear, hats, and stickers all available from our friends at CafePress. Check out our store.