It wasn’t a surprise to hear that Lee Hazlewood passed away this past Saturday (Aug 4, 2007), but damn it’s still sad. At least he knew it was coming and could prepare — settling back down with family, recording one final album, and living long enough to soak up the newfound attention and acclaim. Lee was the ultimate existential cowboy, pondering big questions, facing darkness, but never afraid at the same time to get a little kooky. He was a bit of a crank when I met him briefly in ’95; but from the sound of things he mellowed quite a bit in recent years and welcomed the attention. Good for him, good for us.

Johnny Paycheck has a huge catalog so it’s inevitable that some great songs would get overlooked. “21 Miles to Lake Charles Prison” was one of the first Paycheck songs I heard way back when (thanks to an old thrift-store copy of his greatest hits LP), and it’s stuck with me ever since. When a guy sings about his mother walking him to the train that’s going to take him to prison, well, you know it’s real-deal country.

Check out the song via this link:
http://www.mediafire.com/?fmvysgduhpf

William Bell is one of the greatest soul singers the genre has seen. This song slays me every time.

SXSW 2006

The intial (not final final) list is out for who’s playing at this year’s SXSW Music Festival in Austin.

Dig:
http://2007.sxsw.com/music/festival/

New album! And a New York Times profile to back it up! Who’d ever have thought that would happen? I figured the guy was lost in the Swedish countryside (or maybe more recently, the Phoenix suburbs). Now he’s not only surfacing for air but keeping above water level for an extended stay. Dig it. Album’s pretty good, too–it’s no “Love and Other Crimes,” but it’s definitely in the spirit of his classic work. “It’s Nothing to Me” alone is a standout–a reworking of the Harry Johnson song that I first heard on the country comp LP “God Less America.”

A photo from a few years back, at one of the most stunning drive-up (and a short walk) viewpoints in the U.S., Dead Horse Point State Park in Utah, near Moab:

by wolffkurt

Reading a recent edition of Harp, and come across a one pager interviewing Howe Gelb. Never really caught up on the beef between Howe and Joey Burns (apparently Covertino stays mum and has managed to keep friendship with both). My sympathies immediately drew up alongside my loyalty to Howe. Made Joey sound like an overdriven indie yuppie with a lust for indie-rock power. I don’t know, that’s a one-sided view, so I admit, I’m not being fair. I love Calexico’s music — and I play it way more than Giant Sand or any of Howe’s solo recordings, good as that all may be. Joey’s talented, and he deserves attention and the growing indie-fame he’s receiving lately. But, I can’t help it, every time I play them Calexico records, I think of that article. I think of Howe, and the bitter taste left in his mouth. The bitterness of broken friendships.