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Dude, Can I Borrow Your Harmonica?
Website: Castle Builder DesignFriday, January 30, 2009 Had a good time playing the CasHank jam out at Buttermilk in Park Slope, Brooklyn last night. "Tell It To Me," which Alex Battles implored me to sing, was particularly raucous. Beforehand a dude sought me out in the crowded, stuffy bar and said, "Hey, you're the harmonica guy. Can I borrow your harmonica?" "Nope, sorry," I said. Dude looked at me like I was kind of a jerk then staggered over to a wobbling blond and mushed his tongue into her mouth. I thought to myself, "And that's WHY I'm not gonna' let you borrow my harmonica!" Gig Down Under, MT Buffalo Thursday, January 29, 2009 Played a little basement gig down under the Soho Australian bar Eight Mile Creek with Gitano last night. Chad & Courtney came out. Then we took it to the swish Merc Bar a few blocks away and broke into a spontaneous jam at closing time. OK, up for more buffalo stuff today? A Montana state house committee will meet to discuss HB 253, a bill that would put management of Montana's wild buffalo (those around Yellowstone) under the control of the department of Fish, Wildlife and Parks. Currently, bison are managed by the Department of Livestock, who for years have "managed" them by shooting every one that leaves the park. The Department of Fish, Wildlife and Parks could manage bison like other game species, such as elk. This means private property and livestock would be protected, a regulated bison hunt could be established and, most importantly of all, the beasts could roam free. "Wild" Bill Schneider on New West wrote a good article explaining the bill. Wanna' get crazy and contact legislators? Buffalo Allies of Bozeman has 'em on their site.  Put On His Red Shoes & Rocked The Blues Wednesday, January 28, 2009 Chip Robinson rocked the hell out of the Lakeside Lounge last night, backed by the turgid Roscoe Trio.  Mofo's shoes even matched his Stratocaster. Wonder who gave him those?  Happy that Rick Kelly at Carmine Street Guitars glued my poor busted guitar back together. Ain't pretty, but neither is the way I play it!  One more pic from last week's awesome Demoliton String Band tribute to Buck Ownes. Singing "Cryin' Time" with Elena Skye (and Elvis).  Anybody else see Drew, the pedal steel dude behind my elbow there, on Letterman last weekend backing Ben Kweller? River Porn
 I wrote this blog for my favorite online flyfishing magazine ThisIsFly.com. I've blogged in the past about trout porn and the Wapiti Waters blog, one of my favorite sources. Another blog I read daily is Best Flyfishing Yellowstone. The folks behind that put together a new DVD series that, I believe, created an entire new genre for fisherman's fantasies: River Porn. A company called Dry Fly Media, who are affiliated with Best Flyfishing Yellowstone, made a set of DVDs showing rivers, just beautiful trout-filled rivers, flowing by. They sent me a sample, and here's my review. Also read it on the ThisIsFly.com blog (www.thisisfly.com/blog) Trout porn, that is photos of big, brilliantly colored salmonids that make anglers moan, “Ooh, would you look at that beauty,” is a thriving industry. Books, DVDs, countless magazines and even more websites are dedicated to the obsession. A series of new DVDs by a Bozeman, MT based startup called Dry Fly Media may have spurred a new visual vice for the avid flyfisher: river porn. The DVD series, entitled “Rivers in Motion,” show scenes of fabled blue-ribbon streams in and around the flyfishing Mecca of Yellowstone Park. Unique to this video series is the cinematography, in which each DVD depicts a dozen different streamside shots . The camera is still, the river flows by, summer breezes sway streamside trees and countless bugs flash through the screen. It’s enough to make a depraved angler moan, “Ooh, would you look at that beauty.” The “stars” of these hour-plus films are not the trout, or the fisherpersons who pursue them, they are the rivers themselves. “The Gallatin,” one of five DVDs in the series, shows the river riffling through a canyon, running past golden, streambank grass, churning through a logjam and bouncing through pocket water. Some of the scenes could be appreciated by anyone with a dull eye for beauty. One scene, called, “Gallatin Canyon, Late Afternoon,” depicting granite cliffs, evergreen pines, yellow sunlight and sparkling water, is so hyper pretty it’s almost not to be believed, like a gaudy nature portrait come to life. The same could be said for the scene, “Above Taylor Fork, Downstream, Evening,” which shows a broad riffle coursing past a rocky, beige cliff. In other scenes, the beauty is more subtle and, to an avid angler, mesmerizing. “Below Greek Creek, Afternoon,” and “Near Four Corners, Upstream,” show broad, long swaths of the river. They are precisely an angler’s view, pre-cast, as he or she surveys for bugs and rising trout. In fact, was that a riser I saw near the bottom left center of the screen 19 minutes and 33 seconds in? Rivers in Motion also feature the Madison, the Henry’s Fork of the Snake, the Yellowstone River and the Missouri. These lovingly shot DVDs are a next-best-thing to actually being on the rivers, which was their producer’s intentions. The gorgeous scenery, combined with the way they put the brain into trout-scouting mode, make them lovely little mental getaways. These discs are perfect for a relaxing fantasy escape from winter, distance from trout streams, ugly surroundings, etc. Rivers in Motion make the viewer yearn to be inside the scenes onscreen. Just like any good porn. Online at: http://www.dryflymedia.com/pages/products.html Good Gig, Better Dinner Sunday, January 25, 2009 Played another latenite raveup at the National Underground last night. But before that enjoyed a slammin' homecooked meal from my Montanafriends Chad and Courtney in their sweet apartment overlooking the Brooklyn Bridge. Goin' back in a week for the Super Bowl. With apologies to rock 'n' roll food blogger maestro Roscoe, check out this veggie lasagna that Courtney whipped up.  Yum, baby. For dessert we had cheesecake from Juniors. Lookin' forward to seeing Chip Robinson at the Lakeside Lounge on Tuesday. Happy Birthday Warren Zevon Friday, January 23, 2009 My #1 all-time songwriting hero, Warren Zevon, who died in 2003, woulda' turned 62 today. Gets my wheels crankin' about that long-promised "Warren Zevon-athon" I'm fixin' to put together... Buckin' Around What a New York treasure the Demolition String Band are. They hosted a Buck Owens tribute last night at the Rodeo Bar and it was a hoot, start to finish. Here are a few of the awesome talents who went up and threw down. Sweethearts Eleanor Whitmore & Chris Masterson (of Son Volt)  The inimitable Alex Battles.  Brand new Wicked Cool Records Recording Artist Charlene McPherson!  Plus a smorgasboard of other awesome talent including Mary McBride, Aaron Lee Tasjan, Thirsty Dave from Western Caravan , Jack Grace, and these collection of honkers, strummers, squeezers and shouters...  With pedal steel, sax, squeeze boxI did "Cryin' Time" and "Truck Drivin' Man." Boo-yah. Big thanks to the Demo String Band for havin' the love, smarts, talent, inclination and above all the generosity to share their stage with different musicians from all over the city. How many in "the scene" have met new fans, bandmates, significant others, etc. all because of Boo and Elena? Man, I've lost count of how many I'VE met because of them. Thanks you two. Can't wait for the next one... Worth Watching Thursday, January 22, 2009 Gave me the chills. Bravo, Boss. A Bomb and O-Bomb Tuesday, January 20, 2009 Man, I've got this little cold and for days have been shoving those weird Zicam Q-tips up my nose. Ain't worth a damn. Played Shayni Rae's Truck Stop last night right before Neil Casal from Ryan Adams' band and I bombed. Sounded like I breathed sand. Ah but today, oh what a day.  Downey on Skins, Spanking Charlene Wins! Sunday, January 18, 2009
 DowneyRocked Bar 9 in Hell's Kitchen again tonight and Ryan Downey, my great friend, who I've played in NYC bands with for seven years, filled in on drums. Did a killer job. Awesome news about some other friends, tonight Spanking Charlene won Little Steven's battle of the bands and was proclaimed the"Best Unsigned Band in America" after their killer set at Pianos. Wow! Think this means they earned a record deal with Wicked Cool Records! CONGRATULATIONS FRIENDS! YOU EARNED IT !!! Street Reporting Savant, Doug Montero Saturday, January 17, 2009
 Played at Bar 9 in Hell's Kitchen last night and who'd I see? None other than Doug Montero, THE Doug Montero. Doug, who works for the New York Post, is the best street reporter I've ever seen. The man reports the streets of New York City the way Coltrane honks sax, or Tiger Woods thwacks golf balls. Anywhere Doug goes he shucks, jives, instantly builds rapport, and gets everyone to open up. There's nobody I'm happier to see on a story because in addition to being the most fun reporter out there (once we killed time bouncing a rubber ball of the side of a Bronx police precinct; every time we end up in a great restaurant) it's a marvel just to stand back and watch him work. I wish I could copy him. I hadn't seen Doug since we prowled the streets of Atlantic City looking for hookers to talk to about a probable serial killer . Of course he was game to jump onstage and sing with us last night. Here he is doing "Gimme Shelter." Eat your heart out, Gawker. Actually, It Wasn't That Bad! Thursday, January 15, 2009
 "What was it like?" I yelled at Julian Walters, wrapped in a thick beige blanket, walking with four police officers in zero degree weather from the ferry terminal that served as a rescue station to a waiting bus. The US Airways jet Walters was on had just crashed into the freezing Hudson River and he, along with the other 154 people on board, survived. "Actually," he yelled back, "It wasn't that bad!" With that I busted up, giggled hysterically. As did a couple other reporters around me. So many times the Big Story is awful, unthinkable, tragic. Most times when I see other reporters, we're solemn. Pleased to see each other, but conscious of the fact that our meeting was prompted by death. When I got the call just after 3:30 p.m. that a commercial jet went down in the river, my bones ached at the grim thought of how many people might have died. I couldn't contain my elation when I realized that nobody did. "Wasn't that bad!" Well duh! It was like a party out there today. I, Dumbass Wednesday, January 14, 2009
 Aaaauuuuggghhh! I am crestfallen. I was playing my guitar, trying in vain to write good songs, and I had it propped against my desk. My guitar, the Washburn acoustic I've played since I was 17, tipped over. Timber. Hit my hardwood floor and the headstock snapped. Did you hear a wailing around 3:15 EST today? Yeah, that was me. I can still picture it tipping over, like it was in slow motion. Taking it to Carmine Street Guitars in the morning. Put Andre Dawson in the Hall of Fame! Monday, January 12, 2009 Andre Dawson, who patrolled right field for the Chicago Cubs from 1987 to 1992 and put hundreds of baseballs over the left field wall, inched closer to getting his well-deserved spot in the baseball Hall of Fame. On Monday Dawson received 67 percent of the votes required, shy of the 75 percent he needs, but up from the 65.9 percent he got last year.  Nicknamed "The Hawk," Dawson was a formidable combination of power at the plate and speed on the bases plus a never-miss glove and a rifle arm. In his 21-year-career with the Montreal Expos, Cubs, Boston Red Sox and Florida Marlins, Dawson bashed 438 home runs, 2,774 hits and 1,591 RBIs. He also won eight Gold Gloves and played in eight All Star Games. He was Rookie of the Year in 1977 and MVP a decade later; the first ballplayer to ever win that award playing on a last place team (Sigh, you go Cubs). In 1993 he became the second player along with Willie Mays to hit 400 homers and steal 300 bases. All, mind you, without steroids. Cubs second baseman Ryne Sandberg, who along with Dawson and first baseman Mark Grace were my favorite players as a kid, had this to say about Dawson in his own Hall of Fame induction speech in 2005: "He's the best I've ever seen...He did it the right way, the natural way...and I hope he will stand up here someday." Cubs' shortstop Shawon Dunston told this story of Dawson facing off against legendary pitcher Nolan Ryan. "When you hit a home run off Nolan Ryan, he meets you at third base. But when Andre hit one [off Ryan], he stayed near the mound and waited for the ball. That impressed me a lot. That's respect." My parents met in Chicago so I inherited a love of the Cubs, Bears and Bulls (I just can't bring myself to root for any New York teams). Growing up I watched Dawson on WGN TV with Harry Caray doing the play-by-play. I saw him pinch-hit two grand slams in three days (only to have the Cubs lose both games). I saw him hit two home runs in one inning. I watched him make leaping and diving catches and gun down would-be scorers at the plate (and even first base). I also watched him get beaned by opposing pitchers and play on knees so painful that today he walks on replacements. In 1987, after many in baseball thought he was washed up after playing for a decade with bad knees on unfriendly astroturf in Montreal, Dawson wanted so badly to play for the Cubs on the natural grass of Wrigley Field that he showed up at spring training with a blank check and offered to play for whatever the ballclub would pay. The Cubs gave him the lowest salary of any player in baseball, $500,000. What did Dawson do? He mashed 49 home runs and 137 RBIs, won a Gold Glove, started the All Star game and won the MVP award. For the rest of his career, fans in the bleachers at Wrigley bowed to him when he took his position. Luckily for us fans, Dawson's stats compare very favorably to those of Boston slugger Jim Rice, who was elected to the Hall this year. As we Cubs fans are so used to saying, wait 'til next year...  Dawson
Bad Band Etiquette
Sunday, January 11, 2009 So I was doing a pickup gig with The Moneymaker Shakers on Friday night at a certain club after a certain artist . We were scheduled to hit at 1:30 a.m. At 1:30 a.m. certain artist announced, "That's the end of set two, we'll be back in 15 minutes for set three." Now, regardless of the fact that our gig at certain club had been cancelled the previous week due to a double booking with certain artist, the situation I described is bad band etiquette on the part of both aforementioned parties. Here I'll explain the correct etiquette. If you're a certain artist and you've played two hours already, it's 1:30 a.m. and there's another band scheduled to play after you, GET OFF THE STAGE. If you manage a certain club and a certain artist has played two hours, it's 1:30 a.m. and the band scheduled for 1:30 a.m. is ready to go, YOU THANK CERTAIN ARTIST FOR TWO GREAT SETS AND PUT THE SCHEDULED BAND ONSTAGE. That's all I have to say about that. I saw this scene in the subway station today. Is it indicative of a worsening economy, or simply entrepreneurial exhibitionism? 
Buffalo Literature
Tuesday, January 6, 2009 I am obsessed with buffalo. Luckily, it's been an awesome two years for Buffalo Literature. Last year and 2007 saw the publication of three riveting, fascinating and brilliantly written books about American bison.  American Buffalo: In Search of a Lost IconI just finished the last one, Steven Rinella's "American Buffalo: In Search of a Lost Icon" on Sunday. On Monday I Googled him and saw that he was speaking at the Barnes 'N' Noble in Tribeca on Tuesday. So I went to hear him.  Steven RinellaSteven wrote in his book that he lived, for a spell, in Missoula, MT, my hometown. When I walked up to introduce myself he shook my hand and said, "Hey, you were the singer in Moxie!" Yeah! That's the band I sang in when I was in college. Steven's book is an engrossing tale of one of the few Americans since 1880 to hunt bison. In 2005 Steven drew a permit to shoot a buffalo from a herd that was introduced to an Alaskan valley (and was descendant from buffalo in the National Bison Range just north of Missoula.) The book reinforces something I've long believed, that hunters should be a vital part of bringing the bison back to their native range. I think hunters should have the right to kill buffalo, but there should also be plenty of wild buffalo for hunters to kill. Today there are less than 20,000 wild bison in North America and nowhere in the lower 48 is there a regular hunt. It's part of our heritage. Bring it back. A book that tells a heartwarming story about an individual buffalo raised by a New Mexican family intertwined with the tragic tale of the buffalo's extermination is "A Buffalo in the House" by J.D. Rosen. Published in 2007, I've purchased several copies of this book as gifts.  A Buffalo In The HouseA brilliant book about the crazy fight to create Yellowstone Park - the only area that has had a continuous population of bison since before Columbus - and one heroic American's crusade to save bison is "Last Stand: George Bird Grinnell, the Battle To Save the Buffalo, and the Birth of the New West" by Michael Punke. This book was also published in 2007 and is so fascinating it's hard to put down.  Last StandKeep the buffalo books coming! There's a lot of hopeful and exciting things regarding wild bison in the 21st century. One of the coolest is happening on the plains of Montana where the America Prairie Foundation is buying up, securing conservation easements on and patching together swaths of pristine prairie and, you guessed it, putting wild buffalo on it to roam. I can't wait to visit someday. There has also been positive movement on an issue that's been awfully contentious for more than a dozen years, killing bison that wander out of Yellowstone Park. In a nutshell, the issue is this: A few Yellowstone bison carry a disease that was passed to them by domestic cattle called brucellosis, a bacteria that causes cows to abort their fetuses. In the past decade thousands of starving buffalo that left Yellowstone Park in the winter in search of food were slaughtered by government agents in order to protect the cattle ranches in the area. It has been the largest mass killing of wild buffalo since the extermination of the last great herds on the plains. When I was in college I interviewed then MT governor Marc Racicot (who later went on to lead the National Republican Party and George W. Bush's re-election committee) about this issue. I got the distinct impression that the fuss about brucellosis is a red herring. The real issue, I sensed, was the state just doesn't know what to do with 2,000 pounds of ornery hooves, horns and fur stomping around places where people put down roads, homes and railways. Current governor Brian Schweitzer, a Democrat who has not yet stopped the slaughter, was met with protests at his swearing in this week from groups that oppose the bison slaughter. While too many bison are still killed because of this dubious brucellosis threat (there has never been a documented instance of a buffalo giving brucellosis to a cow), the state of Montana is now allowing a small number of closely monitored bison to roam beyond the park's northern border. Montana will also let an unlimited number of bison to roam outside the western border of the park, so long as they stay in a designated area (of course, too many bison will be killed for going outside the designated area, but it will be fewer than would be killed if the dead zone began at the park's boundary). Lastly, the state of Montana is also undertaking a cool new initiative in which bison that leave Yellowstone Park will be shipped to Indian Reservations in Montana and Wyoming to be used as food for the tribes. Buffalo meat is higher in protein and lower in cholesterol than beef and experts hope it could help bring down skyrocketing levels of diabetes on the reservations. However the obstructionist, knee-jerk, anti-buffalo Montana Stock Growers Association don't want these buffalo given (back?) to Native American tribes. Even though the buffalo were quarantined for three years to ensure they are brucellosis free (I saw the buffalo in their pens this summer driving north out of Yellowstone). Hey! Stockgrowers! Ain't you ever seen Dances With Wolves? Killing buffalo and taking them away from Native Americans ain't gonna' get you anywhere in this century.  Buffalo in the Lamar Valley, Yellowston Park, Summer 2007. Quite possibly one of 1,616 Yellowstone bison that were killed last winter for roaming beyond the park's border.
New Year's Rockin' Eve
Sunday, January 4, 2009 Some entire years haven't rocked as hard as this New Year's Eve.  Played a two hour set of Stones tunes at the Lakeside Lounge with a pickup band (we don't even have a name!) The Stones-covering Mike Hunt Band played right before us and brought out the hardcore Rolling Stones fanclub members, The Shadoobies. This is me, in an Uncle Sam hat, in front of a roomfull of hard partying Shadoobies.  No rehearsal, we, the dimmer, Glimmer Twins, just called out one Stones tune after another.  Had some great musicians and friends join us onstage. Here's an all-star "Dead Flowers:" Left to right, Mary Lee Kortes, Charlene McPherson, Epic, Chip Robinson, me, J.D. Hughes (drums), Gitano  Singing with Charlene, who wailed like one of Hell's Belles, on Gimme Shelter. The party went laaaaaaaaate...Left to right, unknown (!), Amy, Mary Lee, Charlene, Butch  Roscoe, Alex, the terrific soundguy at the Lakeside, and Charlene  Revelers! Melanie, Butch, Kori  Screwdriver Mo  Partying proprietor: Mary Lee, Roscoe  Latenite Butch  Before that I played an acoustic set with Gitano and Pete at El Almacen, the brilliant new Argentinian cafe that just opened up in Williamsburg. (We did the same thing on Christmas Eve).  Strumming in the back of El Almacen as the ball dropped. "Guitar"-no Harp solo A handfull of diners, as well as the waitstaff pictured here, all had a good time. Gitano, me, Pete<On New Year's Day I played the Hank-O-Rama, Hank Williams Sr. tribute, at the Rodeo Bar. My friend and fellow rocking reporter Steve Strunsky and his band the Lonesome Prairie Dogs set up the gig. Gitano, Pete and I played "Honky Tonk Blues," "Jambalaya," and "Move It On Over." I went up and played a couple more songs when the Hank-O was over. Here's me with (left to right) Steve "Lonesome Luke" Strunsky, Sean "Coverboy" Kershaw, me, Lindy Loo, and Heid Lonesome.  On Saturday night I sat in on harmonica at the Lakeside Lounge with one of my favorite bands, The Izzys. Musta' played good, because afterward a lady asked me for my autograph!  The Izzys, the NYC band that no other NYC band wants to meet on a basketball court. The Spud Webb stage right is me.A good, rocking harbinger for the year ahead. 177 James Street, Newark, NJ I was working on a story last week about the homicide rate dropping in Newark, NJ and I had to knock on a door at 177 James Street. Now, 177 James Street is a battered building in a public housing complex. Half the windows are covered with plywood or cinderblocks, there's graffiti everywhere, syringe caps on the ground outside and the doors only open from the inside. I had gone there because I wanted to interview the family of a man who'd recently been murdered. I walked into the parking lot between two of the three-story brick buildings and a half-dozen tough looking young men came around a corner and stared at me. Hard. "Get out of here," one yelled. "Go away." I had to knock on this door, I needed the interview. "I come to see someone," I yelled back. One of the young men squared his shoulders and marched toward me. The shouter pulled him back. "You don't want to get arrested, you don't want to go to jail," the shouter said to the marcher. "Get out of here," the shouter repeated. "You don't want to end up dead." I started to wonder what to do if these guys wouldn't let up. Once I got punched in the face by a woman on a cold night in Newark when I tried to ask her questions about a drive-by-shooting she'd witnessed ("Oh my god!" cried the reporter I was working with when I told her about the assault. "Did you get any information?") I wondered if identifying myself would diffuse the situation. "I'm a newspaper reporter," I yelled back. "I don't want any trouble." Instantly, the man's demeanor softened. "Oh! Come on then," he said, his face warming to a grin. When I approached him he held his fist out for me to bump and apologized for shouting at me. "I thought you was here to buy drugs," he said. "This here is my project and I'm not going to let that happen." I'd never had an experience like that in Newark. Granted, others hollered to sell me drugs as I walked around the building. But I appreciated the man who tried to chase me out when he thought that's what I'd come for. I thanked him to his face. Maybe things really are changing in Newark. |
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