Jam Party at Mine
Tuesday, June 24, 2008

Domenick, Me, Emory Joseph & Chip Robinson, grinning.

Had a few friends over with guitars on Friday night. Wine & song until the wee hours. Great fun.


What a treat to hear Chip Robinson in your living room!

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The Curse of the Sucker
Monday, June 16, 2008

Sucker!

It was a fantasy gig: my good friend Joe Cassady booked me to play a solo gig in High Bridge, NJ. Just so happens my favorite Jersey trout stream, the East Branch of the Raritan River, runs through High Bridge. This gig meant I could fish until dark, then go play music. Perfect, right?

There are several fish species in the Raritan, the most prized are the trout; rainbows, browns and brookies. There are also a bunch of suckers, ugly fuckers that suck gunk off the riverbottoms and are rumored to bring a curse to whomever is unlucky enough to catch one. Fortunately, I'd never caught a sucker.

On my third cast I hooked a big one. My rod doubled over and I felt a mighty tug. I saw a flash of gold at the bottom of the river. "Ooh!" I thought, "I've hooked a big, brown trout." Judging by that flash of gold, I thought it might run 18-inches.

I battled that fish to the side of the river, it hung deep in the water and shook its head. Finally I got it up to the surface...

And saw, to my disgust, that it was a 20-inch sucker.

"Oh well," thought I, "that curse thing is just a fisherman's legend."

I bent down to unhook the ugly beast, and my cell phone fell out of my pocket and sank to the bottom of the river.


The real sucker, onstage at Circa in High Bridge

Of course I blame the sucker for any wrong chords I may have hit at my gig. Played at a bar/restaurant called Circa and had a good time. Looking forward to going back in July.

The only way to reverse the Curse of the Sucker, according to legend, is to catch a beautiful trout. Slept that night on Joe Cassady's couch and tried again in the morning. Nothing.

Finally got lucky on Sunday afternoon at a lovely little stream somewhere in Westchester County...


The little brown trout that reversed the curse.


Matching the hatch...

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Great Bottle Rockets Show
Sunday, June 8, 2008

Butch, me & Brian Hennemann of the Bottle Rockets, one of my favorite songwriters. (Note: dig me in full nerd mode: wearing a Bottle Rockets t-shirt, posing for a picture with the dude from the Bottle Rockets.)

Saw a great Bottle Rockets show last night at the Mercury Lounge. The BoRox are celebrating its 15th anniversary with 15 special shows across the U.S. with a different fan writing the setlist at each stop. The BoRox tore through classics like "$1,000 Car" and "Indianapolis," and also stuff I've never heard them play live before, like "Wave That Flag" and a couple new tunes.


It was cool when Eric "Roscoe" Ambel, who opened for the BoRox with scorching set of his own, joined the band for their encore. Here's Brian and 'Scoe singing "White Boy Blues," a tune they wrote together on the Bottle Rockets 1999 record "Brand New Year."


How good was the show? So good that Charlene and Butch totally made out.

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Review That I Missed...
Friday, June 6, 2008

A friend/fan e-mailed this to me today:

Review by Michael Berick

The NJ-based New Heathens definitely have an East Coast, rootsy bar band sound going for them, but they distinguish themselves with the character-rich tunes and their gritty sound. "Getaway Baby" opens their debut disc with an endearing blast of boozy, blue collar rock & roll. Rough-hewn guitar riffs and a pounding backbeat lend a Faces/Stones-type sound to this sweet, sweaty number. But the lyrics, about a woman's abusive relationship, are far more ambitious and interesting than the typical bar band fare. Singer/songwriter Nate Schweber displays even more of his street poet smarts in the second song, "141," which deals with a white kid moving to New York City and settling in Harlem. Schweber loves to write colorful, richly detailed songs that traverse the American scene. The moody, slightly Smithereens-like "Doomed Generation" follows Hunter S. Thompson's life from Kentucky to Colorado to San Francisco. "July 1, Near Helena, Mt" is a wild, rocking story about restless Montana teenagers, while "Goodnight Paterson" serves as an affectionate look at the decaying urban city of Paterson, NJ. Although a song like "She's Wasted" offers a pretty standard, although quite rocking, look at a girlfriend whose "second home is at [a] bar, Schweber digs deeper lyrically on numbers like "Back to Jesus" and "Kansas, Romeo." The former deals with a quest of spiritual happiness while the latter investigates a controversial Kansas rape case involving a mentally challenged young man. Guitarists Butch Phelps and Domenick Tiziano play key roles in the band as their muscular playing stands as a potent counterpoint to Schweber's (occasionally wordy) storytelling. Schweber's working man lyrics, the band's Jersey home and their old-school rock & roll sound might draw comparisons to early Springsteen, but the more apt comparison would be to New York punk-fueled roots rockers the Del Lords and the Hangdogs. Comparisons aside, the New Heathens' impressive first release is a powerful, memorable effort.

Read the full thing here.

My favorite were the reviewer's list of "moods" that fit the record:

Exuberant
Confident
Aggressive
Freewheeling
Earnest
Literate
Intense
Playful
Rowdy
Street-Smart
Passionate
Rousing
Yearning
Rambunctious
Irreverent
Rollicking
Sprawling

And the record's "themes":

Late Night
Guys Night Out
Drinking
Cool & Cocky

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Long Live Bo Diddley!
Tuesday, June 3, 2008

"Elvis was a royal too
But his throne was hand-me-down
Because Chuck Berry and Bo Diddley
Already wore that crown" -- New Heathens, "Columbus Day."


Long live Bo Diddley!

Sad news: we lost Bo Diddley yesterday. I shook the man's huge hands one night after he played a show in my hometown of Missoula, MT in 2001. I couldn't make the show, because I had one of my own, but found out from friends that Mr. Diddley was having a post-show dinner at my hometown's fanciest restaurant. He sent his soup back to the kitchen three times because it didn't suit his Diddley-palate. In between servings I shook his hand. He was very gracious.

Saw him play at BB King's in NYC a few years later. He did the show sitting on a chair, but got up on the last tune ("Who Do You Love") to shake his knees like a wide receiver who just scored a touchdown.

Played a solo show at Niagra last night opening up for Joe Cassady. Before my first tune I yowled a few Hey Bo Diddleys. Then I after I'd barnstormed through two thirds of my last song, Proud Highway, I went into an impromptu Bo Diddley medley Bo Diddley's A Gunslinger, Cadillac, Mona, Who Do You Love and Hey Bo Diddley.

Thanks Bo.


Me & The Mustache opening for Joe Cassady at Niagra

Checked out Shayni Rae's Truck Stop at National Underground, my favorite Monday night hang.

Then blasted out to Hank's Saloon in Brooklyn for Kuntry Karaoke with Boo & Elena of the Demolition String Band (who you may have read about in the Village Voice's latest cover story on the New York Country Scene Don't get me started. Think it's hard to find country in the nation's biggest metropolis? Wrongo! It's nearly impossible to escape.)

I sang Mary Mary, the Monkees tune, with Boo & Elena, just like I did at a couple of their Monkees tributes in the past year.

And, for good measure, we reprised "Who Do You Love."

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