Heathens Like Me

One Week

2010-03-11T18:23:00.000-08:00

A Chip Off The Old Rock

2010-03-07T07:53:00.000-08:00

Had the pleasure to visit my old friend Chip Whitson and his family in Kailua, Hawaii. Chip and I know each other from Missoula, MT. When I was in high school, Chip's bands were the first ones I ever fell in love with. Though I was underage, I zipped all over town on my bicycle trying to see Chip every time he performed with his band Top Jimmy. He played with other bands too, including The Furies and the Small Town Deputies. Chip was so proficient he'd go from Stonesy rock 'n' roll, to Eddie Cochran-like rockabilly, to Johnny Cash style country. His favorite guitarist is Brian Setzer from the Stray Cats.

Chip really helped set me on my way as a rock 'n' roll guy. When I was about 16 he would let me come sing a couple songs with his band, my first real stage experience fronting a rock band. He also taught me how to play guitar. He showed me how to play the Chuck Berry "ronka-ronka" rhythm, which was the only thing I ever wanted to know. In fact, to this day it's the only thing I can play with any proficiency.

Chip's work transferred him to Hawaii and he hosts a cool open mic every Saturday night at a coffee shop called Morning Brew. What was really cool about visiting was I got to see Chip perform with his 8-year-old son Jayce.
The apple didn't fall far...

Jayce was awesome. He and his dad rocked Pink Floyd's "Another Brick in the Wall," then they stomped out a cool power-pop tune and then Jayce brought the house down playing lead guitar on the Stones' "Satisfaction."

Jayce, who said his favorite bands include Nirvana, the Offspring and Audioslave, couldn't have a better guitar teacher, or a nicer guy for a dad.

Jayce, rocking the Hawaiian shaka, with his mom Stephanie.

For old time's sake, Chip and I did a few tunes together as well. He played licks and leads on the Heathens tunes, "Proud Highway," and "July 1, Near Helena, MT," and then sang harmonies with me on the Stones, "Time is On My Side," and Chuck Berry's "Let It Rock." It was great fun. Chip's a great singer, and nobody crafts a guitar solo better. But there's a kid who is on his way.

Hello Disaster #9 on Euro Americana Charts March 2010

2010-03-05T19:13:00.000-08:00

Eat our shorts, Reckless Kelly.

1 Matt Harlan Tips & Compliments Berkalin rec. JD, ML, BM, MP
2 Johnny Cash Ain't no Grave American. EL, RH, AD, HH, PG, MB, PK
3 Jason and the Scorchers Halcyon Times Blue Rose RK, HB, FC, TJ
4 Carolina Chocolate Drops Genuine Negro Jig NoneSuch Rec. DH, BH
5 Patty Griffin Downtown Church Chordant JB
6 Overmountain Men Glorious Day Ramseur Rec. LM
7 The Coal Porters Durango Prima Rec. BP, VM
8 Krista Detor Chocolat Paper Suites Corazong Rec. FC, BR
9 New Heathens Hello Disaster Avenue A Rec.
10 I See hawks in L.A. Shoulda been Gold 2001-2009 American Beat FH
11 Reckless Kelly Somewhere in Time Blue Rose. RS
12 Ray Wylie Hubbard A.Enlightenment;B.Endarkenment
13 Lucas Dawson Another Way To say Goodbye Self Rel. LK
14 Zoe Muth Zoe Muth & The Lost High Rollers Self Rel. MW, PJ
15 Allison Moorer Crows Rykodisc. Pk

Sweethearts of the Satellite

2010-03-01T03:54:00.001-08:00

My good friend Mike Storey, of The Izzys, and I had the small honor last night of being the first musical act to play Williamsburg's new Satellite Lounge on Havermeyer Street. Not knowing what to call ourselves, we tentatively decided on, "Sons of the Wild West Sweethearts," taking a cue from this guitar of Mike's which I think is both extra cool and very fun to play.

NYC music folks might not know the Satellite Lounge yet, but they certainly know owner Rob Sacher's previous venture, the famous Luna Lounge.

Luna opened up on the Lower East Side in the mid-1990's and hosted scores of local, unsigned bands and a few beloved artists including Elliott Smith and Joey Ramone. It was fun, relaxed and a great place to play original music. Luna's welcoming vibe was a pleasant change from the seedy hustle of Continental and the snobby ripoff of the late CBGB's, two other Manhattan clubs that also hosted unsigned bands. I used to gig at Luna with a band called "Blame Hound."

I'm happy to hear that Rob is writing a book about his experiences running the Luna Lounge, as it was a vital part of NYC's music scene during an interesting decade.

From 2005 to 2007 the Luna Lounge moved to Williamsburg into an aircraft-carrier sized venue on the corner of Metropolitan and Havermeyer. The stage and sound were great, but the space was just too monstrous for most baby bands to fill.

When Rob moved down the block and opened up Satellite -- a cozy, neighborhood bar with bartenders that spin vinyl and a half-dozen pinball machines -- he brought with him enough show posters from the Luna Lounge to paper one of Satellite's walls. I was very gratified to see, upon my first visit, that one of those posters is from the Gram Parsons tribute we put on there in 2007. Rob, who actually saw Gram Parsons perform in the early 1970s, graciously said that was one of his favorite shows.
Wall of Fame

That gig was a fun 'un. Here's the New Heathens, with Charlene McPherson, doing Gram's "100 Years" at the Billyburg Luna. This was the first gig we did with Brandy Wood.

Back to last night, Mike and I sat on Satellite's bite-sized stage and passed his guitar back and forth. We took turns singing harmonies on tunes by Hank Williams, Jimmy Reed, Bob Dylan, Gillian Welch, and, yes, Gram Parsons.

Here's to many more nights of music under Rob's watch.

**********

Kensuke in Hyogo, Japan, your copy of Hello Disaster is on its way.

Setlist, Banjo's 2.26.10

2010-02-27T09:23:00.000-08:00

July 1, Near Helena, MT
Lucky Day
Before You Were My Baby
Born on Third Base
Keep Me
Gaps in my Resume
I Get Excited
Elemental
Only You, Lonely Me
Whatever Makes You Happy
Proud Highway (with Drina Seay)
Don't Think I Can't Stop (with Charlene McPherson
I Thought You Were My Friend (with Charlene McPherson)

Thank you to everybody who came out!

********

Ralf in Lauchhammer, Germany and Jarle in Grimstad, Norway, your copies of Hello Disaster are on their way!

Star In A New Heathens Video -- Proud Highway

2010-02-25T11:46:00.000-08:00

Friends, I want you to be in the little YouTube video I'm making for the song Proud Highway, which is on the new record Hello Disaster.

Here's how it will work. The video will feature clips of different folks each lip-syncing a line from the song (lyrics posted below).

If you want to be in the video, please video yourself lip-syncing some or all of Proud Highway and e-mail it to me at newheathens(at)gmail.com.

Get a free download of the song from our MySpace site http://www.myspace.com/thenewheathens, download it for $0.99 off iTunes, or e-mail me at newheathens(at)gmail.com and I'll send you an MP3.

Videos must be compatible with Mac's iMovie.

Can't lip-sync? Send me a video of you playing air-guitar. Can't play air-guitar? Send me a video of you dancing. Can't dance? Send me a video of you doing something fun. Keep it clean, we're out of our blue phase.

DEADLINE: FRIDAY, MARCH 12, 2010.

I'll post the video on Thursday, March 18, the day of our Disaster Release show at the Lakeside Lounge at 9 p.m.

PROUD HIGHWAY

Take the proud highway
Gets you where you're going
Take the proud highway
Hammer down you're gone

You can come
And you can go
That's all right by me
But don't say yes
And then say no
I can't stand duality
I wouldn't mind
To spend your time
I can't speak for you
The proud highway is out the door my friend
And you are free to choose

To take the proud highway
Gets you where you're going
Take the proud highway
Hammer down you're gone

Rest stop
Truck stop
Engine block
Classic rock
Lug nuts
Bug guts
White cross
Cheesy puffs
Butt-cramp
RV camp
Runaway truck ramp
Trucker tan
Minivan
Take me to the promised land

On the proud highway
Gets you where you're going
Take the proud highway
Hammer down you're gone

Black ice
Jesus Christ
Something in the headlights
Little town
Broke down
Tow yard
Tow pound
Stay awake
Don't be late
Lost on the interstate
Too much speed
Cop sees
"License registration please."

I drive fast and I take chances
That's the way I live
And if you want to ride with me
I'll give you all I got to give
But if you've got somewhere else to be
Put your signal on and go
The proud highway will take you there
I might see you up the road

On the proud highway
Gets you where you're going
Take the proud highway
Hammer down you're gone

On the proud highway
Gets you where you're going
Take the proud highway
Hammer down you're gone

Proud highway
Take the proud highway

Hammer down you're gone
Hammer down you're gone
Hammer down you're gone
On and on and on

Lakeside Lords

2010-02-24T14:21:00.000-08:00

Friends, I know I've been away for three weeks but I've never been so happy to return to New York City as I was on Saturday night. I went straight from Newark Airport to the Lakeside Lounge and have visited that favorite bar o' mine every night since. I'd like to give you Reason #17,304 and Reason #24,001 why It's Great to Live in New York.

Reason #17,304: Secret Happy Hour Shows by Bands Reunited After Two Decades

The Del Lords rocked the hell out of New York City from the bands inception in 1984 through their fourth and last studio album in 1990. After 20 years the four original members, Scott Kempner, Eric "Roscoe" Ambel, Manny Caiati and Frank Funaro, reunited and cut an outstanding new EP entitled, "Under Construction." Check it out.

Yesterday at the Lakeside Lounge the Del Lords (billed as "The Elvis Club") played a secret show that was hard-charging, rhythmic, exciting and totally rocking. Today the Del Lords flew to Spain for a tour.

I knew of the Del Lords from Roscoe's biography and I own their compilation CD but seeing them yesterday was a shot in the arm. Check these dudes out. They rock.

Reason #24,001: J.D. Hughes

I'll never understand why people go to comedy clubs in New York City. Rather than suffering through scores of unfunny Andrew Dice Clay wannabees, visit the Lakeside Lounge on Monday and Friday nights. Those are the nights that J.D. "Doggie" Hughes bartends.

He may be the funniest man in New York City.

J.D. has a whip-quick wit and a Muppet's sensibility (indeed, one of his favorite utterances is Fozzy's "Waka-waka-waka!"). J.D. will switch from scatting gibberish ("A-doo-ba-da-ba-dee, a-dee-ba-da-ba-doo!") to miming a zombie singer, to playing air-drums complete with stick tosses (in another incarnation, J.D. is one of the best drummers in the city). On top of all the wackadoo humor, J.D. can fire off puns and witty comebacks the likes of which would make Groucho Marx cheer.

This guy is a gem. If you go to the Lakeside on either Monday or Friday nights and don't leave in hysterics, your tab is on me.

One more Lakeside thing: New Heathens will play a little Hello Disaster gig there on March 18. 9 p.m. Free.

"Can't Go West, Can't Go East," A Bottle Rockets Landmark?

2010-02-21T08:18:00.001-08:00

"Right now my future's in the hands of the boys down at Firestone/Stuck in Indianapolis, feeling all alone," -- Bottle Rockets, "Indianapolis."

Outta' Indiana but possibly not before finding a shop name-checked in a song by one of my favorite bands. Chalk this up to Bottle Rockets fan nerd-dom to the Nth degree, but while stuck in Indianapolis myself I thought it would be cool to seek out a landmark immortalized in that classic tune, named after Indiana's capital city.

In the song "Indianapolis," songwriter Brian Hennemann (a guy who can write a song as good as they come, particularly when he teams with mysterious "5th Bottle-Rocket" co-writer Scott Taylor) tells a hilarious story of being broke down in Indy, homesick, sick of hearing about sex offenses, sicker of hearing John "The Coug" Mellencamp, and utterly bummed out.

I'm guessing this is the exact Firestone along Michigan Road in downtown Indianapolis that Hennemann sings of taking his van. Is there any way to confirm this?

****

There is an article about me and my Hoosier Oddyseey in a blog called In The Mix Uncut, written by Indianapolan Kurt Matthew Pfeiffer.

Check it out here.

My co-author John is back in Indiana drinking, I mean, working on his half of the book now. Godspeed, sir.

More Good News From British Columbia

2010-02-19T09:12:00.000-08:00

Time to check in with a couple homestate issues close to my heart that I keep tabs on in this blog.

In addition to the great US performances at the Olympics in Vancouver (and, seriously, Shaun White was amazing), there is more great stuff to report from British Columbia.

You may recall me blogging about possible Canadian coal mining in the North Fork of the Flathead river drainage putting sensitive bull trout habitat at risk. The North Fork of the Flathead starts in British Columbia and flows across the US border into Montana where it forms the Western boundary of Glacier National Park before joining two other Flathead River forks and eventually pouring into Flathead Lake, the largest natural freshwater lake west of the Mississippi.

This week Canadian Premier Gordon Campbell announced that the Canadian side of the Flathead River drainage is now off-limits to mining and hydrocarbon development.

Montana's two senators (the much-beat-up-about-health-care) Max Baucus and Jon Tester will write a bill for our side of the border to also protect Flathead's North Fork.

As someone who visits the North Fork annually, and an enthusiastic angler who has been delighted the couple times he's caught a bull trout, I am thrilled about this news.

North Fork, Summer 2009

Meanwhile, progress on protecting America's last wild, free-roaming bison herd, Yellowstone's, took a step back. Marty Zaluski, head of Montana's Department of Livestock, announced that the agency would go back on its plan of allowing an unlimited number of bison to cross out of the park's border in the winter in search of food at the less-snowy lower-elevations to the west.

Sorry guys.

At issue here is that some Yellowstone bison carry the disease brucellosis, which can cause cows to abort their fetuses. However there are zero cows in the area in which Yellowstone's bison would cross, and there has never been a documented instance of a buffalo giving brucellosis to a cow.

I follow this issue closely.

I think we need to put Shaun White in charge of bison management in America.

Let Me Not Fail, Lord, For Lack of Trying...

2010-02-15T23:22:00.000-08:00

Elbo Room Chicago 2.11.10

2010-02-13T21:12:00.000-08:00

Great to play Chicago again and really a treat to share a stage with my good friend Dan McGuinness. Can't say enough good things about the dude. He's as generous as they come, he's a hard worker and it sure is a treat to hear him sing. Do yourself a favor and pick up his song, "Blue Diamond Revival."

Lord of his domain: Dan.

Dan and I traded sets the whole night. Here's what I did.
Set 1. Crybaby/I Thought You Were My Friend/Thankless War/Don't Think I Can't Stop (Just Because I Don't)/Bastard Like Me/Proud Highway/Lawyers Guns & Money (Zevon)/Feelin' Lucky Again
Set 2. Getaway Baby/141/When She's Wasted/Back To Jesus/Wild Horses (Jagger/Richards)/July 1, Near Helena, MT/Kansas Romeo/For Cryin' Out Loud (Keith Christopher/Yayhoos)
Set 3. I Get Excited/Lucky Day/Elemental/Before You Were My Baby/Born On Third Base/Only You, Lonely Me/Keep Me/Whatever Makes You Happy/Just Like Tom Thumb's Blues (Dylan)

This was cool. This lady, Carole, went to high school with my mom, got back in touch with her recently on Facebook, and came out to the show. Far out.

Likewise my mom's cousin Steve, Dee and friends Julia & Jason came out. Great to see you all.

Be it visiting family, wandering around Wrigleyville, eating good, thick pizza, listening to WXRT 93.1 FM or hanging out with my great friend Dan, I love Chicago. It was great to be back!

Thanks to the Elbo Room.

Elbo Room in Chicago on Thursday With Dan McGuinness

2010-02-09T08:38:00.001-08:00

Dan & Nate

Indiana odyssey wraps up Thursday night with a cool show at the Elbo Room in Chicago with great friend Dan McGuinness. Dan's been a buddy since before the Heathens played Chicago and we did a show together in New York in Sept. '08. He's a great singer and great songwriter. We'll trade sets on and Thursday night and it should be real fun. Hope to see some Midwestern friends out.

The Elbo Room
2871 N. Lincoln Ave.
Chicago, IL 60657
Phone: 773-549-5549
9 p.m. sharp!

Message From Butch:

2010-02-08T21:06:00.000-08:00

Attention New Heathens fans,
I'm playing a show this week with my band, The Buck Ups! That'll be at our favorite NYC bar, the Lakeside Lounge, 162 Ave B (between 10th & 11th St.) on Wednesday, Feb. 10th at 9:30.
If you haven't seen me perform recently, this would be a great time to check me out. I've got a ton of great new songs and I'm playing with a rockin' group of musicians. You can hear a few of the new tunes I'm working on my website, www.Thebuckups.com
If you like my song Pig Pen from our new album, Hello Disaster, why not grab a brew and hear a little more of what I'm doing. I'd love to see ya there!

Setlist, Highland, IN 2.6.10 & Cousin Brad

2010-02-07T17:24:00.000-08:00

Three cheers for Bone Dry Bar and Grill in Highland, Indiana. Joannie, who runs the place, loves music, good beer and the Chicago Cubs. Bone Dry reflects that. There are great Indiana brews on tap and the place is decked out in Cubs stuff (Yes! I feel at home at last. I love the CUBS, do you hear me New York? I love the CHICAGO CUBS and I'll NEVER CHANGE!!!)

Best of all, Bone Dry knows how to treat its musicians. They get fed AND paid. Even sold a couple CDs.

Setlist (if you really wanna' know) Proud Highway, Lawyers, Guns & Money (Zevon), I Thought You Were My Friend, Thankless War, Don't Think I Can't Stop (Just Because I Don't), Wild Horses (Stones), Crybaby, When She's Wasted, Feelin' Lucky Again, For Cryin' Out Loud (Yayhoos) Set 2: Getaway Baby, 141, Goodnight Paterson, July 1, Near Helena, MT, Kansas Romeo, Just Like Tom Thumb's Blues (Dylan) When The Night Comes, Back To Jesus, I Was In The House When The House Burned Down (Zevon)Set 3 I Get Excited, Lucky Day, Elemental, Before You Were My Baby, Obsessive, Born On Third Base, Bastard Like Me, Gaps In My Resume, When Things Go Wrong (Baby I'm Easy), Only You, Lonely Me, Keep Me, Brick City, Indianapolis (Bottle Rockets)

Today, watching Pete Townsend's minor wardrobe malfunction in Kokomo, IN with my awesome cousin Brad and his sweetie Courtney.

Brad works at this bacon makin' factory and has graciously offered to keep me in bacon for my entire stay in Indiana.

Brad, I loved ya' even before the bacon, but now...wow.

Setlist Melody Inn, Indianapolis, IN 2.5.10

2010-02-06T06:08:00.001-08:00

Me & the billboard advertising the show

Proud Highway
Getaway Baby
Before You Were My Baby
Don't Think I Can't Stop (Just Because I Don't)
Crybaby
Keep Me
Born On Third Base
Bastard Like Me
Thankless War
Feelin' Lucky Again
Lawyers, Guns & Money

It was a snow show. I was psyched to snag a gig at Indy's Melody Inn, a super-cool joint that does roots rock on Fridays. I was to open for the regular first Friday band, Stockwell Road. Apparently, the plows didn't reach Stockwell Road because the band didn't show due to snow. Unfortunately, the audience were all "snow shows" too, yuk-yuk. Instead of taxing Mike The Soundguy and making him set me up onstage, I played a set from my barstool for Mike, Carla the bartender and John, my co-pilot and co-author on this weird Hoosier odyssey.

John and I are getting buzz in Indiana, garnering a blog post on IndianaBeer.

I'll be playing a cool show in Chicago this Thursday at the Elbo Room with my great friend Dan McGuinness. 9 p.m.

And tonight at:
Bone Dry Bar & Grill
3805 Ridge Road
Highland, IN 46322-2256
(219) 838-2442
10 p.m. sharp

*******

Jim in San Francisco, your copy of Hello Disaster is on its way.

Setlist Max's Place, Bloomington, IN 2/3/10

2010-02-03T21:08:00.000-08:00

Proud Highway
Crybaby
Elemental
Lawyers Guns & Money

Thank you, open mic hippies!

Setlist, Vollrath, Indianapolis, IN

2010-02-03T06:27:00.000-08:00

Crybaby
Elemental
Bastard Like Me
Proud Highway
Lawyers, Guns & Money
Getaway Baby
Only You, Lonely Me
I Get Excited
Back To Jesus

Allegedly, there is a streaming video of this (fast forward about two hours).

The Vollrath is a funky, 84-year-old neighborhood bar with red lights, red walls and allegedly tunnels burrowing underneath that gangster John Dillinger used to escape police. The guy to my left was missing a tooth, the guy to my right was missing an eye and a woman who claimed to be a former Vegas stripper did the most impressive bar trick I've ever seen. She balanced my beer on her head, did cheerleader kicks, and then dropped to the ground and did one-handed push-ups. All without spilling a drop. Go Indianapolis!

*************
Iain in Perth, Australia and Nana & Grandad in Chicago :-) , your copies of Hello Disaster are on their way.

Roscoe's Links

2010-01-30T16:58:00.000-08:00

Producer Eric "Roscoe" Ambel gave Hello Disaster a sweet link on his "producer/mixer" page. Check it out here.

Also, you Facebookers, dig the Hello Disaster post on his "Produced by Eric 'Roscoe' Ambel" fanpage.

Thanks Roscoe!

Banjo's Setlist 1/29/10

2010-01-30T16:48:00.000-08:00

Proud Highway
I Get Excited
Before You Were My Baby
Obsessive
Born on Third Base
Bastard Like Me
Gaps in my Resume
Keep Me
Only You, Lonely Me
Elemental
Crybaby (with with Drina Seay)
I Thought You Were My Friend (with Drina Seay)
Whatever Makes You Happy
Back To Jesus
Lawyers Guns & Money (Zevon)

Thank you to EVERYBODY who came out this past month!

Indiana Tour 2010

2010-01-29T07:48:00.000-08:00

Friends, tomorrow I embark on a literary adventure of sorts that promises to be a musical one as well.

The roots of this adventure were planted back in 2005 when I started working as a stringer in New Jersey for the NY Times. Back in those newspaper halcyon days, the Times did a ton of Jersey coverage and they had one main stringer covering the entire Garden State, John Holl. John lobbied his bosses to hire another stringer. That turned out to be me.

John and I became great friends.

After John married two years ago he got out of daily journalism, wanting a regular 9 to 5 job. Now he misses daily deadlines like mad.

Being financially freed from journalism, however, John discovered he could do freelance work and write only about what he loves. And John loves two things. His wife, and beer.

John knows every publication that prints a word about beer. Specifically, he knows of a little publishing company in Pennsylvania, Stackpole Books, that publishes state-by-state guides to breweries.

John called me up last summer and suggested that we do a Montana brewery book together. "You know Montana," he said. "And I know beer."

Hot damn that was a great idea! Road trip through my homestate with a buddy, drink beer, write a damn book and get PAID to do it?! We couldn't send in that book proposal fast enough.

Lo and behold the publishers loved it! Said it was great. Only one problem, they said. There aren't enough Barnes & Nobles or other chain bookstores in Montana to make publishing that book profitable.

So they asked John if there were any other states we could write about.

John worked for a year as a reporter at the Indianapolis Star.

"What about Indiana?" he said.

"You've got yourself a book deal!" they said.

**************

To coincide with our "research" for this book, I'm going to play a series of solo-acoustic gigs (the Banjo Jim's thing). Contact me if you have specific questions: 917-478-4984

Tuesday, Feb. 2
The Volrath"
118 E. Palmer Ave
Indianapolis, IN 46227-4151
(317) 632-5199
8 p.m.

Wednesday, Feb. 3
Max's Place,
109 W. 7th Street
Bloomington, IN 47404
(812) 336-5169
8-ish

Thursday, Feb. 4
Lizard Lounge,
5002 Madison Ave,
Indianapolis,IN
317-783-9256
8 p.m.

Friday, Feb. 5.
Melody Inn
3826 North Illinois Street
Indianapolis, IN
(317) 923-4707
8 p.m.
With Stockwell Road

Saturday, Feb. 6
Bone Dry Bar & Grill
3805 Ridge Road
Highland, IN 46322-2256
(219) 838-2442
10 p.m. sharp

"Disaster" Feedback: Thanks Laura!

2010-01-29T07:26:00.001-08:00

'Member when I said you look liked a Rock star, and you wanted to know if you sounded like a Rock star? YOU SOUND LIKE A ROCK STAR!!! FRICKEN AWESOME DUDE!!!!
l LOVE IT!"

Hello Disaster on iTunes

2010-01-27T06:21:00.000-08:00

Find it here.

Thursday Night

2010-01-26T17:53:00.000-08:00

At Banjo Jim's. I'll sing "Crescent City" and "Real Live Bleeding Fingers and Broken Guitar Strings."

Feast of Music

2010-01-25T14:19:00.001-08:00

Very happy to see I made it to the tres chic blog Feast of Music after my Banjo's gig last Friday.

*******
Sharri in Chicago, your copy of Hello Disaster is on its way!

Banjo's Pix & Party

2010-01-24T04:01:00.000-08:00

Been having a lot of fun doing my latest solo-acoustic Happy Hour residency at Banjo Jim's. Really appreciate the Banjo's Crew for giving me a welcoming place to perform. Banjo's is an exemplary petri dish for scores of music makers honing their "thing." I've used this latest residency to try out as many as 10 new, unrecorded songs per show -- with at least one brand new song each week. (Funny, you finish a project you've been mired in for three years like, say, Hello Disaster, and you're able to write songs again!)

My friend Rich took these pictures on 1.15.10. Thanks Rich!

With friends Christine & Kim

Very grateful to my friends Drina and Dave Seay for coming out each show. Drina not only booked me, she duets with me. And after the 1.15 show she invited me back to her & Dave's pad, along with their friend Mimi, for a wild afterparty. How wild? So wild that Drina spun her copy of Hello Disaster and she and Mimi strummed guitars along with each song and sang. Thirty-nine minutes of artistic vindication, baby! Two beautiful women serenading a guy with his own songs can suddenly make even the wretchedness that went into recording Hello Disaster seem totally worth it.
The cheers shot: Mimi, Drina & me; Dave is obviously double-fisting -- a Corona and a camera!

Thanks to all my friends who've come out. One more this Friday.

*************

Tracy in Binghamton, NY, your copy of Hello Disaster AND your copy of Heathens Like Me are on their way.

Setlist, Banjo's 1.22.10

2010-01-23T02:07:00.000-08:00

I Get Excited
Lucky Day
Elemental
Before You Were My Baby
Obsessive
Crybaby (with Drina Seay)
Proud Highway (with Drina Seay)
Gaps In My Resume
Born On 3rd Base
Bastard Like Me
Only You, Lonely Me
Whatever Makes You Happy
Keep Me
Back To Jesus
I Thought You Were My Friend (with Charlene McPherson)
Lawyers, Guns & Money (Zevon)

Thank you to all who came out.

***********

Laura (on BEAR DRIVE!!!) in MISSOULA, MT your copy of Hello Disaster is on its way!

Listener Feedback, New Songs on MySpace

2010-01-21T18:22:00.000-08:00

From Carrie:

Schwebs-
LOVE, LOVE, LOVE the new album!!!! My Fav is Thankless War. Adore it! Lil Dylan Flavor. And Butch was Super Awesome with Pig Pen. Not saying the first album was bad...... but this one is STELLAR! Jim really likes it too. So, obviously, I really like this one. Prolly order a couple more albums from you. I was talkin' to Travis about it (Have been accosting random mutual friends) and he asked if there was a way to listen to clips before purchase. Apparently, $15 is a lot of "Scrilla" for some "dawgs." So, you guys should set that up. I have tons of people I can turn on to you if you did. Until then, I fully intend to roll the windows down in January on my Yukon, blast the album for all of the "Perfect Plastic People" in the over priced, over suctioned pit that IS Virginia Beach! They'll like it. Or they can kiss my ass. OK, enough with the rant. I'll help where I can...
So, congrats on a truly capital job on the new album. My couch lesbian is still drooling over the pin up girls on the front. I assume they are Lido's work?
OK, really done. It's like 11:18 pm and for a mother of two that has a horrific migraine (taking Imitrex and Percocet which explains my reverting BACK to my abrasive high school pinache!) and I feel the need to take my lil bit high ass to Snoozleville.

-CAGD

*********
Travis, Carrie and anybody else wanting to hear some of the songs on Hello Disaster, please (get your 2005 on and) visit the New Heathens MySpace page, www.myspace.com/thenewheathens.

Chaos Himself

2010-01-20T04:23:00.000-08:00

On a hot, sticky Saturday late morning last summer I gathered in a Williamsburg club with one of my favorite bands in the world, New York's The Izzys. With one microphone in the middle of the room we cut three new songs. I played harmonica.

The EP is out. It's called Chaos Himself.

Also available on iTunes.

Setlist, Banjo's, 1.15.10

2010-01-16T12:13:00.000-08:00

Crybaby
When She's Wasted
Born on Third Base
Only You, Lonely Me
Before You Were My Baby
Obsessive
I Thought You Were My Friend
Bastard Like Me
Back To Jesus
Elemental
I Get Excited
Whatever Makes You Happy
Lawyers, Guns & Money (Zevon)

Collateral Damage, New York Post Page 5

2010-01-15T11:18:00.000-08:00

Turned up in this photo on page five of today's New York Post (alas, not Page Six.)

I covered former NY1 news anchor Dominic Carter's sentencing for beating up his wife (to my left). In November she testified that despite what she said in a 911 call and wrote in a statement, it was not her husband who beat her bloody, rather an unnamed day laborer. Mrs. Carter asked the judge for leniency. He showed little, calling Mr. Carter "a classic case of a domestic violence abuser," and sentencing him to jail plus psychiatric treatment.

******

Carrie in Virginia Beach, your copy of Hello Disaster is on its way.

Haiti & A Sandwich Shoppe I Can Endorse

2010-01-13T13:54:00.001-08:00

As we watch shocking images of utter destruction come in from Haiti, a nifty thing was brought to my attention by Facebook friends and confirmed on the White House's website. Text "HAITI" to 90999 with your cell phone and a $10 donation will be tacked on to your monthly bill. Did it.

While helping with a story about a church group from Hackettstown, NJ that went to Haiti on Saturday (and are thankfully all OK), I parked in front of a sandwich shop on Main Street with this sign hanging above the door:

Hackettstown Sandwich Shoppe, you get a plug!

****
Andrew in Phoenix, your copy of Hello Disaster is on its way.

Hello Disaster: Reason for Hope in 2010?

2010-01-11T18:18:00.000-08:00

My great friend Bob Wire really set me on the right path as an impressionable young man by teaching me that country music doesn't have to suck. In high school I associated country music with vicious, chaw-drooling, Wrangler-bursting, Stetson bobbling knuckledraggers all hell-bent to kick the shit out of me because they thought I was gay.

Bob Wire's bands, first the Fencemenders and now the Magnificent Bastards, taught me that if you turned off country radio and put in the right CDs (Bottle Rockets, Blue Mountain, Beat Farmers, Steve Earle, Todd Snider, BoDeans, etc.) so-called "country music" could rock like the damn Stones. It could be smart and funny too. Like Bob.

Bob's a renaissance man; songwriter, graphic designer, author, political provocateur, dad, husband of the lovely Barb Wire, and blogger. I bookmark him on the great website New West.

His rollicking recap of the suck that was 2009 ruled. I'm both flattered and fearful that one of the only things he's got to hold on to for hope that 2010 will be better is a record called "Hello Disaster."

Read the blog here.

*****
Mick in Leeds, UK, your copy is on its way!

Setlist 1.8.10

2010-01-09T14:04:00.000-08:00

Banjo Jim's January Happy Hour Residency #1 (tried out some new 'uns...)

Proud Highway
I Get Excited*
Elemental*
Before You Were My Baby*
Born On 3rd Base*
Bastard Like Me
Only You, Lonely Me*
Keep Me*
I Thought You Were My Friend
Don't Think I Can't Stop (Just Because I Don't)
Thankless War
Gaps in my Resume
Whatever Makes You Happy*
Lawyers Guns & Money (Warren Zevon)
Back To Jesus
For Cryin' Out Loud (Yayhoos)

*=first time played out

Thank you to everyone who came out, and everybody who bought some of the first copies of Hello Disaster.

Here's a picture of me after the show with Joe Cassady, who also played Banjo's last night. Thanks to Melissa, Joe's wife, for this.

Crazy Harry

2010-01-08T07:26:00.001-08:00

I learned how to play harmonica from a dude named "Crazy Harry." He was the mailman when I was growing up. During summer vacations I would sit out by the mailbox with my Hohner Special 20, key of C, and wait for him to make his rounds. He'd always stop, hang out and show me a few licks. I'm still trying to get good enough to play Whammer Jammer, as he would always request.

Crazy Harry talks in rhythmic jive and following his thought patterns can be like riding a roller coaster. Having lived all over the U.S. and served in the military he has something to say about pretty much everywhere. As a scholar of rock 'n' roll he is always handy with stream-of-consciousness wisdom. "Girls are like busses," he told me when I was a lovelorn teen. "When one lets you off, there's always another one around the corner to pick you up." Never afraid to raise hackles, Crazy Harry rants, raves, taunts and praises as he damn well pleases.

In addition to delivering the US Mail, Hman grows apples in orchards in Montana's Bitterroot Valley.

Every couple years some unfortunate ungulate gets in Crazy Harry's crosshairs and a little while later I'll get hunks of its dried flesh, seasoned and scrumptious, in the mail.

He just sent me a Ziploc full of jerkey from an elk blasted on the last day of hunting season up Bridger Creek in the Gallatin National Forest. Say what you will about Crazy Harry, that man shoots a delicious elk.

Four (Frosty) Days of Peace, Love & Music

2010-01-06T14:46:00.000-08:00

Banjo Jim's, every Friday in January (1.8, 1.15, 1.22 & 1.29). 7 p.m. sharp. Free.

#1

2010-01-02T15:42:00.000-08:00

Thanks to Grant in Rickmansworth, UK for buying the first pre-release copy of Hello Disaster for $15 via PayPal.

'Sss on its way!

Obtaining

2009-12-31T11:59:00.000-08:00

Awfully gratified by the kind responses I've gotten from you about this record.

Here's the deal with obtaining one. We're going to revamp this website to coincide with the March "official" release of the record and that will include online purchasing stuff. Until then, if you'd like a pre-release copy you've got a couple options.

Find me. A good place to do this would be one of my gigs at Banjo Jim's on Jan. 8, Jan. 15, Jan. 22 and Jan. 29 from 7 p.m. to 8 p.m.

Or via PayPal. CDs are $15 (includes shipping). PayPal e-mail is info@newheathens.com.

Will let you know when it's up on iTunes, etc.

Again, many thanks. And Happy New Year.

Holiday Miracle

2009-12-30T18:57:00.000-08:00

Out March, 2010. Pre-release copies available now.

Keef

2009-12-18T06:59:00.000-08:00

Happy 66th.

Honesty

2009-12-16T23:09:00.000-08:00

Appreciation to my blog readers for keeping me honest.

Also, a reader left this comment:

If you would like to make a donation to help his mother pay for funeral expenses, please send a paypal donation to feinstein.memorial@gmail.com. The memorial service will be held in Nashville, TN. For more details, please send an email.

Chris Feinstein

2009-12-15T19:21:00.000-08:00

When I finally had my first "record" in my hand, "Heathens Like Me," way back in '06, I took hard copies with me to the 11th Street Bar. I wanted to show some of my heroes who hung out there what I'd done.

I gave a copy to Chris Feinstein. He was playing bass with Ryan Adams and the Cardinals by then. I'd see him watching himself on TV (it was the habit of the Cardinals [though not usually Ryan] to come to the 11th Street Bar to watch the latenight broadcast of their performances on shows like Letterman, which taped in the afternoon).

I gave Chris a copy of the record I'd made, which I'd put so much of my heart, soul, time, hopes, dreams and money into.

"It's a special feeling, right?" he said. "You'll never forget it. Your first record. I remember mine. Congratulations, I'm really happy for you."

What a shot of confidence that was. Mercy, the esteem I held Chris in after that. A guy who'd made it, a guy who would sit and talk to lowly me after all he'd done. Stuff I only wished I could.

Chris and I were acquaintances before that, but after that moment I considered him beatific. My friend. He was talented as all hell. An amazing musician. And to think he was also one of the guys I loved most to be around. Sweet. Generous. Gregarious. Wonderful to be near. We talked about his cat. His acoustic guitar. His music. The music we both loved.

Oh those many nights I was lucky enough to share with him, as the Guinness pints poured. One of my favorite stories he ever told me was about doing a recording session down south in the same studio as Wayne Perkins, who played guitar on the Stones 1976 record "Black and Blue."

Chris, you see, was as big a Rolling Stones fan as you would ever meet. Listen to this story he told me.

"I heard that Wayne Perkins was in the next room," he said. "And Black and Blue is one of my favorite Stones albums. So I said, 'I have to meet this guy.' He came out into the kitchen area to pour himself a cup of coffee and I started talking to him about the Black and Blue sessions. He said he went to Munich, Germany to find an empty studio, with mountains of drugs piled around, and only instrumental tracks. As he walked in the studio Mick Jagger walked out. Wayne asked, 'Mick, how will I know where to play on the tracks?' Mick said, 'Just listen to them, and imagine where I won't be singing, and play there.' The results were, 'Hot Stuff,' 'Hand of Fate' and 'Memory Motel.'"

I spent many a long hour with Chris at the 11th Street Bar. I also watched him play many times on stages from the Beacon Theater to Town Hall to the Bowery Ballroom to weird, tiny coffee shops in Soho.

He was a dear friend of my dear friend, Kori Burkholder.

You can see us all in that picture at the top, taken outside the 11th Street Bar a couple years ago. Clockwise from the top left it's Mo Goldner, from Spanking Charlene, Chip Robinson, Kori Burkholder, Butch Phelps (New Heathens, Buck Ups), Chris Feinstein, with his head in Kori's lap, and me.

I just heard the news at the 11th Street Bar.

Fuck Chris. Fuck. Why?

Heather's Friends

2009-12-14T10:03:00.000-08:00

"(John Holl is) working on his book project with Nate Schwerber, a freelance journalist (New York Times, Rolling Stone) and vocalist whose NYC-based band is Heathers Friends. Holl and Schwerber will hit the road together, Heathers Friends will be on the lookout for some solo gigs to play in Indy or Bloomington to supply gas money." www.ruthholladay.com Dec. 14, 2009

Why I Love The Music I Do

2009-12-10T10:23:00.000-08:00

Doing the moving thing so I made three big piles of CDs I didn't want anymore and traded them in over at Permanent Records in Greenpoint. One of the new CDs I picked up was a record by Will Hoge called "The Wreckage." I put it on in my car and, zango! He had The Sound. The only thing I could think is, "I love this guy!"

That got me thinking about the kind of music I love. For much of my life I've taken plenty of well-deserved criticism from friends, girlfriends, would-be-girlfriends and wouldn't-be-girlfriends for what, to many, seems a pretty myopic taste in music.

Here's what I like: rock 'n' roll, the recipe for which I would argue was perfected by 1972. The ingredients are American-made electric guitars fed through tube amps, big, resonant solid-body acoustic guitars, locked up bass & drums, cool vocals and raggedy-but-right harmonies. The instructions were rock, blues, country, gospel & soul. Mix up the ingredients, follow the instructions and you've got The Sound. Think the Stones' "Exile on Main Street," released, appropriately, in 1972.

Here's the catch, though. While I dig I dig the sound of '72, I don't want a singer bleating cliched lyrics straight outta' '72. I want somebody singing to me about what's happening now, preferably something I hadn't thought of in quite that way before. For my money there's nothing better than a clever, unique, interesting, non-cliched lyric that tells a story, gives great descriptions, has a focused point of view or is above all FUNNY. (God I love it when a song makes me laugh.)

I wear my favorite bands & musicians on my sleeve (probably too much) but all of 'em kinda' have the 1972 music thing going on coupled with fresh, compelling lyrics. Lyrics that make you want to hear what the next verse is going to be. Funny, but smart, self-aware funny; not self-parody or worse, un-self aware funny.

But I can go down the list of my favorites and rattle off the criteria they meet. A few examples, off the top of my head:

Bottle Rockets? Descriptive, clever, funny. "A $1,000 car ain't even gonna' roll/Until you put at least another $1,000 in the hole/Sink your money in it and there you are/The owner of a $2,000, $1,000 car." From "$1,000 Car".

Drive By Truckers? Great stories, great descriptions. "Church blows up in Birmingham/Four little black girls killed/For no goddamn good reason." From "Ronnie and Neil."

The Yayhoos? Funny. "Gettin' drunk! Gettin' nekkid! Gettin' laaaaaaiiiiid and gettin' out!" from "Gettin' Drunk." (Terry Anderson, who wrote that particular song, is a master at this.)

Spanking Charlene? (kinda' punkier music, but I dig it) clever & funny. "I hate girls and folk guitars/I hate girls in martini bars/I hate girls!" from "I Hate Girls."

Todd Snider? Funny. "You can fuck getting any kind of job you want/Unless you really want to work in a fast food restaurant/And who wants to do that?/Do you want to do that?" From "The Devil You Know."

Lucinda Williams? Interesting, great descriptions. "Mama lives in Mandeville/I can hardly wait until I can hear my Zydeco/And Laissez Les Bon Temps Roulez/And take rides in open cars/ My brother knows where the best bars are/Let's see how these blues'll do in the town where the good times stay." From "Crescent City."

Chip Robinson? Descriptive, interesting, non-cliched. "It must be more than the wind and the rain that's got me shaking harder than a Memphis train." From "Fence." (Disclaimer: OK, astute readers will note that I'm friends with Chip, Charlene and a couple Yayhoos. Well I was fans of 'em first. And I'm friends with Mark McKay.)

My man Warren Zevon? All of the above. "Well I went to the doctor/I said, "I'm feelin' kinda' rough,"/"Let me break it to you son, your shit's fucked up,"/I said, "My shit's fucked up? Well I don't see how."/He said, "The shit that used to work, don't work now." From "My Shit's Fucked Up."

Anybody I like who actually made music in 1972 is kinda' grandfathered in for me (Stones, Aerosmith, Bob Marley, Howlin' Wolf, Neil Young, Dylan, Gram Parsons, Emmylou Harris, Rod Stewart, Zep, etc.) They set the standards and though I'll dig a band that emulates them musically, I tend to be turned off by bands that try to emulate them lyrically.

Rolling Stones vs. Black Crowes is a perfect example. Mick Jagger barks lyrics in some of the coolest Stones songs that, when looked at objectively, don't make much sense. Take Rocks Off, track one off Exile, for example. Jagger sings, "The sunshine bores the daylights out of me/Chasin' shadows moonlight mystery." Does it make sense? Not really! Is it awesome? Hell yeah! (A rock 'n' roll chick I met long ago told me it was actually Keith who penned those lines, a legend I love to believe.)

Then take Crowes singer Chris Robinson in the barn-burner Go Faster, as straight up a 1972 sounding song as was ever written. He sings, "Somethin' I came to see, I don't wanna' see no more/I don't think it's diseased, but it sure is sore." Does it make sense? Not really! Is it awesome? It's gross!

(Lest I be pegged a Black Crowes hater, I'd stand before Warren Zevon and tell him that the Crowes "Kickin' My Heart Around" is as concise, kick-ass and perfect a rock 'n' roll song as has ever been written.)

That's why I'm real choosy when it comes to the music I dig. I ask it to hit that split shot of having classic sounds and fresh lyrics. Not a lot of people can do it. (God knows I struggle with it every time I sit down with a guitar and a blank piece of paper.)

Even Will Hoge. Not all his words were zingers. Precious few, in fact. But I still loved the hell outta' that CD. So maybe there is hope for someone like me.

"Well Shit, that's COUNTRY music!"

2009-12-04T12:14:00.000-08:00

"I had nine songs finished and I needed one more, then I could take 'em and go make a record because as you know records have 10 songs. So I sat down at the piano to make up one more song and then it occurred to me. I was doing something I'd never done before. I always made up a song because I had something to say or something to get off my chest. Making up a song just to have another song? I thought, 'Well shit, that's COUNTRY music!'" -- Todd Snider, introduction to "Money, Compliments, Publicity (Song Number 10)" live in Reno, NV, Sept. 13, 2009

Dear Aerosmith

2009-12-02T21:22:00.000-08:00

Dear Aerosmith,

It is with great regret that I must rescind my long-standing application to sing lead for your band. It is unfortunate that only now are four of you looking to replace your iconoclastic lead singer, Steven Tyler. Had you come to this impasse a decade ago, I would have gladly offered up my services, and, with all due modesty, would have done a sweet job aping Mr. Tyler's antics.

Much about my life and the perspective through which I see rock 'n' roll has changed in the past decade. As you know, in 1999 I lived in Missoula, MT (where I nearly killed myself and two best friends in a wintery van rollover while attempting an ill-advised, 1,000-mile, all-night road trip to Fargo, ND to see you.) During that time, while a sousaphone player in the University of Montana marching band, I took Mr. Tyler's dress as inspiration and routinely, in front of packed sports arenas, wore such things as vividly-colored skintight vinyl pants, mardi-gras masks, and feather boas. I also, while blowing on a tuba, aped Mr. Tyler's lascivious dance moves such as crotch-grabbing and pelvic bump-and-grinds.

(It bears noting that during this phase in my life I also copied Mr.Tyler's sobriety which, in retrospect, was a real tactical mistake.)

A few years later, upon moving to New York, I continued to dress and dance like Mr. Tyler and, while singing lead in a series of ill-fated rock bands, attempted to sing like he did too.

This is where cracks began to appear in my facade of "being" Steven Tyler.

I quickly learned that my vocal range is but a fraction of Mr. Tyler's. This limitation eventually led me to write songs in a style that is far more suited to my own voice. I have grown quite comfortable with these songs. Comfortable to the extent that, though my audience is exponentially smaller than Aerosmith's, I enjoy singing my songs in public more than I do yet another crappy version of "Sweet Emotion."

In addition, over the past several years I have learned that my writing style also differs from Mr. Tyler's. While an industry-proclaimed "Rock God" of his stature may sing such overtly sexually charged lyrics as, "I'm gonna' shove my tongue right between your cheeks/I haven't made love now for 25 weeks/I hear that you're so tight your lovin' squeaks," (from 1989's F.I.N.E., [which Chuck Klosterman calls the greatest Aerosmith song of the past generation]), I cannot write and sing that kind of a lyric with anything approaching credibility. In fact my feeble attempts at such "faux-Tyler" lyricisms (for example: "A pair of platinum-blonds say, 'Let's go have some fun/Get some/Get some/Get some action!'" from my sophomorically-named 2003-2005 band, "Automatic Bad Machine,") turned out far more embarrassing than they did awesome.

I also learned, through the years, that dancing like Mr. Tyler in the small, sparsely-attended clubs that I have played strikes the few audience members as inauthentic, hyperactive and obnoxious. Because economics have forced me to play more guitar at my shows, my Tyler-esque dancing has been further minimized (interesting fact: it's harder to dance like Steven Tyler while playing a guitar than it is while playing a tuba.)

It is a shame that the opportunity to sing lead for Aerosmith had not cropped up ten years ago, because if I had done it then I would have thought it the absolute raddest thing on god's green earth.

In summation, I would not be a good choice as a replacement singer for Aerosmith because I no longer aspire to dress, dance, sing, not-drink or write like Steven Tyler, having learned over many years the folly of trying to do so. I am also, for the first time, quite happy with the status of my own original music, what with a new record soon to drop and a series of new songs I have written. In fact, I am so more satisfied with performing my own music that I might be tempted to sing songs by one of my former glam-rocking heroes only if Queen wised up and tossed aside that dead weight Paul Rogers (because if you think my Steven Tyler is good, you should see my Freddie Mercury).

Finally, as both a musician and a longtime, dues-paid Aerosmith fan, I must pose to you four non-lead-singing members this question:

Who the fuck would want to see Aerosmith without Steven Tyler anyway?

Yours truly,
Nate Schweber

NEW NEW HEATHEN!!!

2009-11-25T15:40:00.000-08:00

This is Valentina Grace Tiziano, born yesterday to Domenick Tiziano and his bride Agatha.

Biggest congratulations to them!

Maybe someday she'll join a band with Butch's son Max.

My how those guitarists are breeding...

Thanks Samu!

2009-11-25T04:32:00.000-08:00

(Backstory.)

Sweet Zevonathon Review

2009-11-23T08:11:00.000-08:00

On Lucid Culture.

Concert Review: The Zevon-athon at Banjo Jim’s, NYC 11/12/09
November 19, 2009 · Leave a Comment

by Richard Wallace

Warren Zevon was an American songwriter whose vocabulary, both written and musical, earned him acclaim from the music press, his peers and his loyal following throughout a 30 year-plus career that ended too soon when he died after a short battle with cancer in 2003. It may have been his Russian heritage that fueled many of his songs with an unforgettably rebellious, muscular, Cossack spirit.

It must have been that same spirit that drove Nate Schweber to lead the cavalry into Banjo Jim’s on Thursday night for the very first Warren Zevon-athon. Schweber, frontman of the New Heathens, pulled together a band of stellar downtown Americana talent to perform a robust double barrel set of Zevon’s material. The audience that packed into Banjo Jim’s shared the small club’s confined, standing-room-only space with the dozens of musicians on the bill, and they reveled all night long, celebrating in the work of an indelible artist.

For this show, Schweber was joined by J.D. Hughes on drums, Alison Jones on bass, Rich Hinman (of the Madison Square Gardeners, among others) on guitar and Andy Mullen on piano, and together they were able to do an outstanding job of recreating the stylish west coast feel of Zevon’s early recordings.

Among the standup performances were Jesse Bates (“I’ll Sleep When I’m Dead”), Steve Welner (“I Was in the House when the House Burned Down”), Steve Strunsky (“Mr. Bad Example”) and Andy Mullen (“The French Inhaler”). Schweber and his bandmates added “Frank and Jesse James”, “Mohammed’s Radio”, “Lawyers, Guns and Money” and of course the irrepressible “Werewolves of London.”

But the highlights of the evening may have been the contributions of the female vocalists in the house: Mary Lee Kortes of Mary Lee’s Corvette (“Desperados Under the Eaves”) Charlene McPherson of Spanking Charlene (“Hasten Down the Wind”), Eleanor Whitmore (“Carmelita”), Monica Passin and Drina Seay (“Keep Me in Your Heart”). Each one of these striking performances were done with a remarkable forthrightness and amazing compassion for the material.

Leave it to Zevon. The Excitable One’s foot-stomping numbers are models of boyish swagger. A notorious womanizer, Zevon may have been dead for six years now, yet he can still charm his way through to all the female hearts in a room with his poignantly candid lyrics.

And then Serena Jean Southam (of the Whisky Trippers) belted out “Poor, Poor Pitiful Me” and the night was allowed to proceed to its fitful conclusion. Leave it to Schweber, who’d courageously orchestrated the night, and yes, “His hair was perfect.”

Zevonathon, what a cool night

2009-11-16T06:28:00.000-08:00

Friends, I want to share some pictures with you from the Zevonathon show we did last week. I thought the whole thing was stellar. All the musicians turned out wonderful performances, the house was packed and I got to have a birthday party of sorts listening to my music cranked loud by my favorite songwriter guy, Warren Zevon. What a cool thing to call on all this NYC talent to share it with me.

This was the setlist:

SET ONE
Lawyers, Guns & Money - Nate
Excitable Boy - Aaron Lee Tasjan
Disorder In The House - Mary Lamont & Jim Marchese
Play It All Night Long - John "Chico" Finn
Mutineer - Chip Robinson
My Shit's Fucked Up - Eric "Roscoe" Ambel
Desperadoes Under the Eaves - Mary Lee Kortes
I'll Sleep When I'm Dead - Jesse Bates
Hasten Down the Wind - Charlene McPherson
Mohammed's Radio - Nate & Charlene
The Indifference of Heaven - Emory Joseph
The Hula-Hula Boys - Randy Lee & Tony Graci

SET TWO
Frank & Jesse James - Nate
Roland the Headless Thompson Gunner - Mike Storey
Carmelita - Eleanor Whitmore
Mr. Bad Example - Steve Strunsky
My Dirty Life and Times - Joe Cassady
I Was In The House When The House Burned Down - Steve Welner
Splendid Isolation - Sharon & Kim
The French Inhaler - Andy Mullen
Keep Me In Your Heart - Li'l Mo & Drina
Poor Poor Pitiful Me - Serena Jean
Werewolves - Everybody
Lawyers, Guns & Money (encore) - Nate

Here are some photos, courtesy of Heidi Welner, Dave Seay, Kori Burkholder and Kristen Couchot.

Here we are, firing it off.
Aaron Lee Tasjan rocked, "Excitable Boy."
My buddy John "Chico" Finn, from Bovina, NY (of Livestock notoriety) gave a perfect rendition of the Zevon's twisted ode to rural life, "Play It All Night Long."
My friends Randy Lee and Tony Graci turned in one of the coolest performances of the night, a tune Warren wrote about Hawaii called, "The Hula Hula" boys. Not only did Randy trick the tune out by speaking Hawaiian during the intro, but Tony played slack-steel guitar. Too cool.
Tony Graci (who in addition to playing Hawaiian guitar is one of the best drummers I know)
Charlene McPherson, of Spanking Charlene, is one of my real good musician friends in New York. I always love to hear her sing, and I really love to sing with her. She was awesome by herself on "Hasten Down The Wind," and it was a blast singing "Mohammed's Radio" with her.
Eleanor Whitmore was just a knockout singing and playing violin on "Carmelita." She really dazzled.
My man Jesse Bates went berzerko on, "I'll Sleep When I'm Dead," complete with a sung harmonica solo. Totally awesome.
One of the night's highlights' for me was Mary Lee Kortes singing, "Desperados Under The Eaves." It was really cool singing harmony on the song's coda with her.
Eric "Roscoe" Ambel did a dark, bluesy version of "My Shit's Fucked Up," that was really, really cool.
Chip Robinson stunned the room to silence with a gorgeous version of "Mutineer." The place was packed, and you couldn't hear a sound except Chip playing.
Serena Jean Southam was energetic and pitch-perfect on "Poor, Poor, Pitiful Me."
In the middle of the show my Smurfette, Kristen, brought out ridiculously good cupcakes for everyone and led the crowd in singing happy birthday to me. A happy one indeed. Thanks baby.
My buddy Steve Strunsky, a loud & proud member of the Rockin' Reporters club (his band is called The Lonesome Prairie Dogs), channeled his inner robber-baron for, "Mr. Bad Example."
My friend Mike Storey of The Izzys did a great job on the crazy tune, "Roland the Headless Thompson Gunner."
I couldn't have pulled off the show without some top-notch musicians. The Piano Fighter for the night was Andy Mullen, who not only transcribed and transposed several songs, he also turned out a beautiful solo piano version of "The French Inhaler."
On bass was the lovely, rock-solid Alison Jones.
Rich Hinman, from the Madison Square Gardners, played guitar and he was dazzling. It was a little intimidating to play with cats this good. Here's a photo of Rich looking astounded at my choice of chords.
Sadly, I didn't get a pic of drummerman extraordinaire (and Mr. Bad Influence) J.D. "Doggie" Hughes, but if you watch the video up at the top you can see him kicking ass.

Joe Cassady sounded superb on "My Dirty Life & Times."
This lady, Sharon, contacted the club and asked to be on the bill because she was actually a friend of Warren Zevon's. It was really cool to talk to her at the end of the night and hear some of her stories about hanging out with Warren. She also gave me a snapshot she took of the man, which I was really knocked out by.

Monica "Li'l Mo" Passion and "Banjo" Drina Seay just about made everybody cry with a shimmering version of the last song Zevon ever recorded, "Keep Me In Your Heart."

Emory Joseph did a poignant rendition of, "The Indifference of Heaven."
Steve Welner from Fourteen Feet was great on "I Was In The House When The House Burned Down."
Mary Lamont and her beau Jim Marchese rocked out on "Disorder in the House."
During the last song, "Werewolves of London," my friend Alex Battles walked in just in time for me to sing, "He was looking for a man named Alex Battles." Many days find Battles and I talking online about music for hours and he was real helpful with advice and support as I put together the Zevonathon. It was he who insisted that we do a proper Italian encore at the end of the evening and replay the opening song, "Lawyers, Guns & Money." He also sang the final verse of "Werewolves."

At the end of the night Sharon gave me this photograph that she took of Warren Zevon. It was really a special thing to get. I love Zevon, obviously, and though I didn't do the gig out of any "be closer to the man" or "be more like the man," sense, it was neat to see a candid photo of him taken by someone who knew him. Kinda' made for a poetic end to a fantastic night. Thanks to everyone who shared it with me.

Zevonathon rocked.

2009-11-13T06:50:00.001-08:00

Details soon.

Zevon Rehearsals II, Enjoy Every Sandwich

2009-11-11T18:44:00.000-08:00

Gettin' excited about the Zevonathon tomorrow night at Banjo Jim's. The guest singers came and rehearsed with the band last night and they were all real cool. Songs sound great. It's going to make for a night of excellent music.

I only saw Warren Zevon once. It was the last gig he ever played. I was in the audience at the famous David Letterman show where Zevon was the only guest. It was the one time in the history of the show that Dave gave his whole show over to a single artist.

Zevon had been diagnosed with terminal cancer a few months earlier. My good friend Abe Bradshaw got me a ticket, for which I'm still grateful to both him and his girlfriend Nicole.

I loved Zevon so much, his songs were more unique and exciting than anyone else's, and it was such a thrill for me to finally see him live. It was also heartbreaking, knowing that soon he would die.

It was during this broadcast that Letterman, a longtime Zevon friend and longer-time Zevon fan, asked him, "What do you know about life and death that I don't?" Zevon gave his poignant line, "Enjoy every sandwich."

Zevon played three songs, "Mutineer," "Genius," and "Roland the Headless Thompson Gunner." What was really cool is during the commercial breaks Paul Schaffer led the CBS Orchestra through other Zevon tunes, and the man himself played along.

Here's a clip of Zevon and Letterman's interview, and also Zevon performing his song Mutineer, which he wrote as a thank you to his fans.

If you spot a guy in a red t-shirt on the front row of the balcony off on the right, that's me.

Sweet Link

2009-11-10T09:34:00.000-08:00

Warren Zevon show at Banjo Jim's, this Thursday.

Thanks Battles.

Urban Survival

2009-11-08T19:03:00.000-08:00

Kids, it took me more than eight years to figure this out, but here's the key to living in a huge metropolis like New York City: do things that are very UN-urban. For example, find a trout stream where big browns are nailing streamers.Isn't this fun?When I caught this one, on a big, black wooly bugger, it had a 6-inch half-digested chub hanging from his mouth. Gnarly!Ah, but the scenery was just lovely. Or go to a shooting range, like Smurfette did, cashing in a gift certificate I'd given her for her birthday for a full day of handgun instruction. Smurfette shot so well that my emotions vacillated between pride and anxiety. Seemed like every time her gun went "pop!" I heard the target she aimed at go "ding!" Best be a good Smurf. Listen to a great song about the south. All day I spun the Warren Zevon album, "Mr. Bad Example," which features the magnificent song "Renegade." However the album version is way too over-the-top and overproduced. This is the ultimate version of the tune. Remember, at the end of a glorious, sunny, late-fall day spent sharpshooting and flyfishing, bring it all back home. You might recognize the dinner entree on the right from one of the photos above (caught, mind you, in one of the streams that gives NYC its drinking water, so I'm as confident that it's as healthy as I'm positive it was delicious). You might also recognize the sharpshooter.

Zevon Rehearsals

2009-11-05T06:59:00.000-08:00

Had a good, full-band rehearsal last night in preparation for this Warren Zevon-A-Thon that I'm putting together for Thursday, Nov. 12 at Banjo Jim's. I got some really great players for the backing band. (So good it's a little intimidating, honestly). I've got my buddy J.D. "Doggie" Hughes on drums, the lovely Alison Jones on bass, Rich Hinman from the Madison Square Gardiners on guitar and, because no Zevon tribute could fly without a piano fighter, Andy Mullen on the ivories.

It was really cool to run down the Zevon songbook last night. The tribute thing is kinda' big in this, whatever you want to dub it, New York circuit of roots-minded musicians whose enthusiasm is bigger than their album sales. (Some out there say the tribute thing is getting kinda' annoying).

I used to care. I did a bunch of tributes with the New Heathens and hoped they would attract a lot of people and I could show 'em my band and then people would like us. I put a lot of energy into that. It never worked out that way.

This one's different. Though I want people to turn out to this gig, I don't really care about attendance. I've got no band of my own to try and turn people on to this time. I'm just doing it because I love Warren Zevon. It'll be my birthday on Sunday the 15th, so this is kinda' my birthday present to myself: a buncha' friends hanging around and a whole night of Warren Zevon music.

Zevonathon

2009-11-02T07:08:00.000-08:00

Thursday, Nov. 12 at Banjo Jim's.

Poster by Michael St. George

Happy Halloween

2009-10-31T21:20:00.000-07:00

Smurf & Smurfette's jack o' lanterns.

Groupies

2009-10-31T09:16:00.000-07:00

Mark J. Bonamo, Robert Kennedy, Jr., Nate Schweber

Kris Kristofferson Tribute, Rodeo Bar, Thurs. Oct. 29

2009-10-28T08:38:00.000-07:00

I'm gonna' sing a couple songs at this gig, which feature a bunch of great singers from around NYC. Should be a good 'un!

Brown Trout in the Fall

2009-10-26T16:42:00.000-07:00

After three intense days of writing about a hacked-to-death priest, I got a day to unwind. Catching brown trout and looking at the fall leaves was a pretty good thing to do.Caught on a midgeUnder this bridgeLast one of the day, the hardest fighter and, ironically, the only one I think was definitely from a hatchery.I caught him on this TINY fly, a #22 midge (first ever trout on a midge!)'Twas lovely out.

Last Night's Setlist

2009-10-23T08:10:00.000-07:00

Was real proud to share a bill last night with four (count 'em FOUR) of my favorite artist-dudes; Matt Mays, Mike Ferrio, Chip Robinson and Kasey Anderson. Big thanks to Kasey for puttin' me on.

Seems to me a great idea for a blog is for it to be a setlist archive. Herewith:

Googie's Lounge, Oct. 22, 2009 (Solo acoustic)

I Get Excited
Crybaby
Brick City
Don't Think I Can't Stop (Just Because I Don't)
I Thought You Were My Friend
Bastard Like Me
Gaps In My Resume
Lawyers, Guns & Money (Zevon)
Back To Jesus
Proud Highway
July 1, Near Helena, MT

Reminder!

2009-10-21T00:12:00.001-07:00

Chip Off The Old Rock

2009-10-20T08:23:00.001-07:00

Alas, my dear mom, Kay, is rocking harder than me these days.

See her in this YouTube clip performing the Who's Magic Bus with the band "Peanut Butter and Didjeridu Jam," featuring my inimitable friend, Mandela Leola Van Eden. Taped this last weekend at the Bitterroot Brewery in Hamilton, MT.

Sweet Little Rock 'n' Roller

2009-10-17T12:31:00.000-07:00

Congrats to Butch & Amy.

World, meet Maxwell Theodore Phelps.

Lunch at Ted's, With Ted

2009-10-15T11:52:00.001-07:00

Went to lunch today at my favorite bison burger joint/Montana nostalgia spot, Ted's Montana Grill. Who happened to be at the booth next to me? The restaurant's namesake, Ted Turner himself.

Kismet. Just before lunch I cheered a news story that said that Ted's gonna' buy a herd of Yellowstone National Park bison and save them from slaughter.

Devoted readers of this blog (mom) know I've paid attention to this particular herd of buffalo. They were slated, poetically, to be shipped to Native American reservations in Montana and Wyoming to be used as food by the tribes.

However John Brenden, an Eastern Montana cattle rancher in the state legislature, shot that idea to hell.

The bison had been quarantined for years in Corwin Springs, MT in pens just outside the northwestern entrance to Yellowstone Park. There they were tested numerous times to make sure they are all disease free. But because of Brenden's fuss the buffalo were set to be killed.

The issue here is that some of Yellowstone's buffalo picked up a disease called brucellosis from domestic cattle more than a century ago. Brucellosis causes cows to abort their fetuses. (Factoid: the Warren Zevon song "Play It All Night Long" has a lyric about brucellosis.) Today when bison wander outside Yellowstone they get hazed and shot to keep them from giving the disease back to cattle. Hence the poor buffalo's predicament.

Enter Ted Turner.

A story went up on the AP wire just before luncthime that Ted's gonna' buy some of these Yellowstone bison, which are one of the few genetically pure herds left in the world, and put 'em on his ranch near Bozeman, MT. Ted's long been committed to preserving buffalo and, by creating a bigger market for their meat, making sure there are more of them on American ranches.

Minutes after that story hit the wires, Ted sat down to lunch with Martha Stewart at his restaurant in midtown Manhattan. I did too, with my old high school buddy Nate "Smithfunk" Smith, who I moved to New York with from Missoula, MT.

For a hot second I thought it would be awesome to ask my waitress for Ted and Martha's check, so I could buy him lunch at his own restaurant as a way of telling him I think what he does for buffalo is really cool. Alas, I didn't have the nerve (Ted probably eats free at Ted's, you figure?)

But before Ted left I did shake his hand. I said, "Thank you for buying the Corwin Springs bison herd, thanks for watching out for Yellowstone's buffalo."

"Wow," Ted said. "It's a small world, news travels fast."

Funny statement coming from the guy who started CNN.
Herd of bison in Yellowstone's northwest corner, some of which may be bound for Ted Turner's ranch

Dig It

2009-10-14T14:45:00.000-07:00

Cash for Junkers

2009-10-12T11:40:00.000-07:00

Here's a review I wrote for a little startup publication of the Cowboy Junkies show last night in South Orange, NJ. Pix by Kristen.

Canadian country mystics the Cowboy Junkies hit stride more than two decades ago with their breakout album, The Trinity Session, recorded in a church in Toronto.

On Sunday night, the quartet plus two sidemen tried to recreate that record’s signature, ethereal groove in the South Orange Performing Arts Center.

It was the band’s first-ever appearance in South Orange and their more than 90-minute set earned them two appreciative, albeit sleepy, standing ovations.

Singer Margot Timmons’s crystalline, melancholy voice was in fine form, even if she seemed at times shy about projecting it. Splitting her time between standing and sitting in front of her microphone, Timmons often shielded her face with her hands and at times she both left the stage during instrumental breaks and sat with her back toward the audience. Her most theatrical gesture was swirling a teabag around one of three steaming mugs she sipped from during the show. To her right sat a table adorned with (heavenly) wine and roses.

Her most direct connection with the audience occurred when she dedicated two songs to local fans who had emailed the band. Timmons said that a baker named Fred had requested the song “White Sail” for a woman named Lynn. Timmons said she was touched both that Fred referred to his paramour as a “lady,” and that he gave the band a chocolate mousse cake.

“Hang on to him,” Timmons advised. “He bakes.”

The second request was from a couple celebrating their anniversary. The band, appropriately, performed “The Anniversary Song.”

“Thank god it’s a happy song,” Timmons quipped. The crowd laughed.

Michael Timmons, Margot’s brother, led the band and painted with deep, rich tones coaxed from a handful of guitars. A third Timmons, Peter, played drums. Alan Anton, who for much of the show was the only person who stood up onstage, handled the bass.

Some of the most interesting sounds came from two Junkies sidemen. Longtime associate Jeff Bird blew harmonica licks reminiscent of Willie Nelson’s mouth organist Mickey Raphael. He also played piercing mandolin fed through a wah-wah pedal. Aaron Goldman, on loan from the opening band LeE HARVeY OsMOND, provided more traditional sounds on pedal steel guitar.

The band started the night crescendoing into “Dragging Hooks (River Song Trilogy Part III),” and then segued into “Crescent Moon.”

After “Hold On To Me,” Margot Simmons sent a song out to her tour manager, who had watched his beloved Boston Red Sox lose earlier in the day. In the hands of a band with less finesse, a statement like that could elicit guffaws from a Yankee crowd. The Junkies then tugged their fans’ heartstrings with a shimmering cover of the Rolling Stones’ “No Expectations.”

Other highlights included a spooky take on the bluegrass standard, “Working on a Building,” and the band’s classic, “Misguided Angel.” By the time the Junkies played their final song, “Sun Comes Up, It’s Tuesday Morning,” they seemed so focused on each other it was as if the audience wasn’t even there. Almost as if SOPAC were a Canadian church.

Mark J. Bonamo on Matrimony

2009-10-06T13:17:00.000-07:00

The Hooker and the Frankenraisin

2009-10-05T10:18:00.000-07:00

Despite what you may have heard about New York City, it's damn hard to find a hooker here. I've interviewed plenty of hookers in the region, but in eight years the only time I was sure I saw bona-fide hookers in New York City proper was the night I spent in jail. That was, until a couple Wednesdays ago when I was staking out a taxi operation in an industrial part of Queens for a big story.

There was a hooker out on the street with me. We were basically doing the same thing; waiting for the taxi driver's shifts to change. She called them "dates." I called them "sources."

Figuring that somebody who spent a lot of time mingling with these dudes might know about the guy I was looking for, I started talking to her. She was more than happy to talk back.

"I swear I seen the FBI here, I could tell when that shiny, new SUV turned down the block there was a $40 blowjob inside," she said. "I mean, that was a NICE car!"

Before too long the hooker, whose name is Linda, sussed me out as a potential client.

"You got some money on you? You want a blowjob?" she asked.

"No thanks," I said.

As we talked, I leaned against my car, affectionately nicknamed "The Frankenraisin." The 11-year-old two-door red sedan had its trunk crunched by a semi truck on the New Jersey Turnpike in 2004, thus earning it the sobriquet "The Raisin," (the insurance payout financed the first New Heathens record). Four years later the driver's side door was smashed by a city bus, which earned me several traffic citations for driving an unsafe vehicle. I took it to The World's Greatest Mechanic, Matt Poppola at Paddy's Service Station in Newark, NJ. He scored a silver trunk and a green door from a junkyard and with that constructed the three-colored, four wheeled monster my car is today: The Frankenraisin.

The hooker, however, was unimpressed.

"That your car?" she asked.

"Yep," I said.

"Shit," she said as she turned on a heel and walked away. "You AIN'T got no money!"

From Butch:

2009-09-23T20:11:00.000-07:00

Calling all Heathens fans,
New Heathens guitar player Butch Phelps and his band, The Buck Ups, are proud to be preforming Sunday, October 4th at the Lakeside Lounge. Show starts at 9.
This gig promises to be a good time with good people at a great bar. So shake off those Sunday evening blues and come out to support this new band.
Special guest performances are expected.

Reasons I Love The Truckee River in Reno, NV

2009-09-20T15:53:00.000-07:00

In REVERSE order...
Brown Trout
Rainbow Trout
Kristen
Sept. 13, 2009
(Note: Kristen caught the first two tricky, Truckee trout of the trip but unlike her, I was slow with my camera.)

Jeff Ament

2009-09-17T17:24:00.001-07:00

For you Pearl Jam fans out there, here's an article I wrote about bassist Jeff Ament.

I got the assignment from my friend Brianne, editor of Montanan Magazine, the alumni mag for the University of Montana, (where Jeff and I were both students).

It's the second article I did for the magazine (the first being about Decemberists' songwriter/frontguy Colin Meloy). I can't tell you what a pleasure it was to write about two things I love the most, music & Montana (rather than what I usually write about, murder & mayhem -- As I type this I'm in New Haven, CT reporting on the slaying of a Yale student.)

Jeff was very gracious.

What Happens in Vegas...

2009-09-16T05:02:00.000-07:00

I hadn't shaved in two weeks when I went to Las Vegas to work at my sweetheart's fashion trade show. Got a little creative with the razor and for a day I rocked the dirty upper lip and pretended I was straight outta' Starsky and Hutch. This dude had the t-shirt I needed. Free mustache rides, ladies. Vegas is a classy place.

People Who Died

2009-09-14T14:23:00.000-07:00

Been away in Nevada and California for a couple weeks and am just now getting caught up on news and correspondence that I missed. Was sad to come back to NYC and learn that Jim Carroll died.

Jim Carroll is best known for writing The Basketball Diaries. I got turned onto him in high school when I bought his second book of diaries, Forced Entries, at a used bookstore. It made me want nothing more than to be talented and cool, well versed in chemical and sexual deviancy, and obsessively chronicle my company with rockers and poets like Allen Ginsburg, Keith Richards, William Burroughs, Patti Smith and Bob Dylan. It took me years, and plenty of embarrassing scenes, to figure out I'd never be that cool.

Jim was one of the first "famous" people I interviewed for my college newspaper. You can still read the kinda' gushy interview I did with him 10 years ago (!!!) on his website.

He also, appropriately, wrote the awesome tune, "People Who Died."

"I salute you, brother!"

Nowhere Zen New Jersey Pt. 2

2009-09-05T07:21:00.000-07:00

Somewhere else in Newark...

File this pic under "composing or decomposing." In an effort to get myself out of a creative rut, and out of the distractions of my own apartment, I checked into a spare room in the bachelor pad of my friend Mark Bonamo in Newark, NJ. The goal? Write some songs. He snapped this pic early one morning after I was up late working on a tune (about gangster Dutch Schultz!) Note pen and paper on bed, guitar against the far wall and Grolch bottles on the floor. Thanks Mark.

Nowhere Zen New Jersey Pt. 1

2009-08-30T08:46:00.000-07:00

Somewhere in Newark, NJ...

"Who vanished into nowhere Zen New Jersey leaving a trail of ambiguous
picture postcards" -- from "Howl"

Asking Not

2009-08-26T11:19:00.000-07:00

In case you didn't notice, I try to keep this blog about music. And trout. (Sometimes buffalo and sharks too.) Point is I try to stick with topics that would cause the least fights at the most dinner tables.

But sometimes a headline is so big that not saying something speaks louder than saying something.

Ted Kennedy died today, finally joining his three brothers Joseph, who was shot down in World War II, John, murdered in Dallas in 1963, and Robert, assassinated in Los Angeles in 1968.

The Kennedys have been on my mind a lot lately because last week I read a biography of Robert F. Kennedy called The Last Campaign. Every page broke my heart, but one story hit me hardest. Bobby Kennedy visited the impoverished Pine Ridge Indian Reservation in South Dakota during his 1968 run for president, despite it being of little political benefit. There he befriended a 10-year-old Sioux orphan named Christopher Pretty Boy.

RFK spent hours with the boy, talking with him, holding his hand. Then he invited Christopher Pretty Boy and his sister to spend the summer at his house in Hyannispoint, Mass. He would take those two children into his own family.

Bobby, paraphrasing the Nobel Prize winner Albert Camus, said, "Perhaps we can not prevent this world from being a world in which children are suffering, but we can reduce the number of suffering children."

Tragically, neither Robert Kennedy nor Christopher Pretty Boy survived the year. But then, the name "Kennedy" is synonymous with "tragedy."

Teddy never lived down Chappaquiddick, nor should he have. He killed Mary Jo Kopechne and didn't tell police until her body was discovered. Maybe grief drove him to drink. Maybe cowardice kept him alive and not her.

Teddy then went on to have one of the most distinguished senatorial careers of anyone in the last century. He gave Americans more civil rights, women's rights, health insurance, paid maternity leave, health care for poor kids, and immigration reform, among countless other things.

A lot of people hated him for it.

Driving around New Jersey for work today all the talk shows were about Kennedy. One man told how after he broke his neck Teddy handwrote him a letter about courage and healing. Another woman said that when her father was in the hospital Teddy called him almost daily. A 9/11 widow said that Ted Kennedy called her in the midst of her grief and invited her sailing on his yacht in Massachusetts.

It's reminiscent of RFK inviting Christopher Pretty Boy to spend the summer with his family.

Despite their enormous inherited fortunes, the Kennedy brothers were shot through with the value that people with the most have a moral responsibility to give the most -- in service and comfort -- to the people with least. The Kennedys not only preached that from the political pulpit, they did it. Two examples are the orphan in South Dakota and the widow in New York.

The Kennedys never, ever asked anybody to do anything that they would not do themselves.

I think that's their family's legacy.

Mr. Zero

2009-08-25T13:27:00.000-07:00

This is my friend Alex Battles. He and I talk about songwriting online all day every day. Though he makes it seem like being a DJ is more glamorous than being a songsmith.

Me & My "Little" Brother Andrew

2009-08-24T21:30:00.000-07:00

Gold Flat Creek, Idaho, Tuesday, Aug. 18, 2009

Having a splendid time here in Idaho...

2009-08-21T17:49:00.000-07:00

Good Guitarma!

2009-08-20T11:34:00.000-07:00

Hey! Guess what I got back? Yep! My purty, black, 12-string guitar that I (idiotically) left in the trunk of a taxi.

Hot damn! Those folks at the Taxi & Limousine Commission do awesome work. Via GPS they were able to track down the exact taxi I rode in and then contact both the daytime and nighttime driver.

Mr. Singh, the daytime driver, kept my guitar safely in his home, expecting that I'd come looking for it.

Thanks Mr. Singh.

And thanks, as ever, to Kristen for fetching it for me.

Redband Rainbow, Check!

2009-08-17T17:17:00.001-07:00

Nine hours after my moronathon move, leaving my guitar in a taxi, I flew out to Idaho to visit my dad, kid brother and stepmom. And flyfish.

Devoted readers of this blog (mom) know I'm a nerd for native trout, that is trout that evolved in North American lakes and streams instead of ones stocked there by man.

I found out that in this part of Idaho there are native Redband Rainbow Trout. Rainbow trout are native to the West Coast but have subsequently been planted all over the United States. Special Redband Rainbows are native to a swath of the Northern Rockies just west of the Continental Divide. These fish are the evolutionary bridge between the West Coast's rainbows and the Rocky Mountain's cutthroats.

I'd never caught a Redband before and I was ecstatic to have the chance.

Mercy were they beautiful, all green and gold with a pink stripe, tan fins tipped with white, and pepper spots all over. I caught about 20 of 'em in a little mountain stream called Goose Creek. Used my first favorite fly, the Royal Wulff.

Thanks Dad for the pic.

Oh yes, making lots of long distance calls to New York's Taxi & Limousine Commission. Sigh.

Bad Guitarma

2009-08-17T17:08:00.000-07:00

Anybody who reads this blog not know I'm a complete f*#@!ng idiot?

I left my guitar in the trunk of a taxi.

She was a bit of a beater, so if the cab driver (who I tipped well) doesn't turn it in to the Taxi and Limousine Commission, I will be out more pride than money. But of the two, in New York, pride's harder to come by.

Ironically, I never played her better...

Is "PLAY THE WEIGHT" the New "Freebird," Or Just Some Annoying Guy?

2009-08-10T08:42:00.000-07:00

Can't believe I almost went the whole summer without seeing a "proper" concert and when I did, boy was it a good 'un.

Saw Gillian Welch & David Rawlings, Old Crow Medicine Show and Justin Townes Earle at the beautiful Beacon Theater last Thursday. Went with a handfull of great friends and it was a wonderful evening.

The only ominous part was some dude with a bullhorn of a voice behind me who kept yelling, "PLAY THE WEIGHT!!!" in between, during the intros and during the outros of every song.

I got the vile creep of deja vu when from this chucklehead. Last summer I walked out of an acoustic Black Crowes show at Town Hall because I was seated right in front of a some jackass who in between, during the intros and during the outros of every song shouted, "PLAY THE WEIGHT!!!"

Do we have a new and novel annoying trend on our hands here, something to overtake "Freebird?" Or is there one dude, a singular fount of obnoxious, fingerpainting with verbal feces on the canvas of concerts in New York?

It's OK to yell, "PLAY THE WEIGHT" if you're trying to coax Robbie Robertson, Levon Helm, Mavis Staples or Van Morrison back for an encore. Having sung the song in a bunch of bars with coverbands like The Goods, I'll give a pass to anybody who yells at me to sing it (beats being asked to sing AC/DC [who I love but can't] or John Denver [who I hate and won't]).

When they were unmarred by "Weight Guy," Gillian and David were my favorites. When they played "Miss Ohio" I got the chills and their cover of Dylan's "Queen Jane Approximately" stuck in my head for days.

Old Crow were damn fun and writing about them gives me an opportunity to re-tell the story of the night the New Heathens jammed with their main singer dude.

We were playing the only straight bar in Provincetown, Mass. and we covered Old Crow's "Tell It To Me." Some guy sitting at the bar perked right up and sang along with every word. I kept thinking onstage, "Why does that guy look so familiar?"

During a setbreak I walked over to him and said, "Hey, looks like you really enjoyed that Old Crow Medicine Show song."

He shot back, "I'm IN Old Crow Medicine Show! I sing that song! That's MY band!"

Holy shit! It was none other than Ketch Secor, fiddleman, harpman, guitarman and writer for Old Crow. He was up visiting his lady, who was studying creative writing at the university in P-town.

I told Ketch we HAD to have him up with us to do that song again.

"Great!" he said. "Do you guys know Wagon Wheel too?"

When I told him that, sorry, we didn't Ketch said, "Oh it's real easy, I'll show it to you."

And he did. We had a ball. It's even on YouTube, though I apologize for the video and audio not being in sync.

That show was so much fun, in fact, nobody even shouted for us to "PLAY THE WEIGHT!!!"

Tell It To Me:

Wagon Wheel

Yeah, but what really sucks is...

2009-08-10T07:51:00.000-07:00

Cynically, jadedly and insensitively, I just gotta' say that in addition to killing nine people while destroying a plane and a helicopter, this pilot guy totally ruined my weekend plans to go flyfishing.

Quick Bits:

2009-08-05T16:37:00.000-07:00

1. Played a couple songs on RewBee's live radio show today. Stay tuned for a rumored YouTube clip next week.

2. Gonna' play a solo gig at Googie's Lounge on Saturday, Aug. 15 at 8:30 p.m.

3. I write about one allegedly corrupt New Jersey mayor after another, interspersed with this upsetting story about the woman who killed eight people, four of them kids, after driving 1.7 miles the wrong way on a highway at 1:35 p.m. on a Sunday. Toxicology showed this week that she had a blood alcohol content of .19 percent, roughly equivalent to ten shots of whiskey. And she was also stoned. What was going on there?

4. Really Montana Stockgrowers Association? A few buffalo wandering around some land that borders Yellowstone jeopardizes an entire statewide industry. Really?

Rock, Brought

2009-08-01T17:40:00.000-07:00

Played my first all-original electric rock show in New York in almost a year last night. Closed out my Banjo Jim's residency loud and proud. Felt good.
(The dreaded "singer just stubbed his toe" shot.)

Had a dynamo band backing me up. I basically cherry-picked from three of my favorite NYC bands & put 'em all together. Left to right that's John from the Madison Square Gardeners on guitar, Tim from The Izzys on drums & Alison Jones from Spanking Charlene & The Roscoe Trio on bass.

Banjo Drina, who booked me for the residency, helped me out on Proud Highway (Alison laid down the law on bass.) Drina wrote on my Facebook page, "Nate Schweber brought out both kinds of music last night... Rock AND Roll!"
Thanks to everyone for your support! (Thanks to Dave Seay for the pix!)

Jammin' With Todd

2009-07-28T07:15:00.000-07:00

This picture came courtesy of my friend Emory Joseph, who you can see next to me on the far left. That's Todd Snider, one of my favorite songwriters, in the middle. This was snapped a little more than a year ago at Banjo Jim's in what was one of those special, memorable, musical New York City nights.

Todd rolled in to Banjo's with his buddy Kevn Kinney near the end of a Newville Session, a singer-songwriter showcase hosted by Brooke Lundy (the redhead to my right). Brooke, Emory and I formed a sort of backup-singer line and Keith Christopher (to Todd's right) dubbed us, "The Visible Panty Line." (Keeping track so far?)

Todd ambled up on stage and asked himself, "What should I play?"

I yelled to him, "Play "Easy Money!'" A song I learned a long time ago from my friend Bob Wire.

Todd looked at me with wide eyes and a big grin and said, "You KNOW that one?"

Sho' 'nuff. We played songs 'til LATE. That night was stupid fun.

Just last night I lamented the fact that I've shelled out too many bucks for lame concerts. I made a list of people I'd pay to see and Todd Snider was at the top.

Because the only time I've seen Todd Snider so far, I was on the damn stage with him!

Rough Night At The Office, Good Party

2009-07-24T03:35:00.000-07:00

(Real live bleeding fingers...)

Looking forward to my fourth Banjo Jim's Happy Hour tonight. If my guitar playing is a little rustier than usual, at least I have a dramatic excuse.

I got my beat up pretty good and had my left hand chomped by a police dog in Jersey City early Wednesday morning.

I was out at Shayni Rae's Electric Truckstop Tuesday night when I got the call. Jersey City police shot and killed a woman who stabbed one officer in the head and another in the arm. It's been a real rough week for Jersey City police. Days earlier five officers were shot by a shotgun-wielding criminal. One died.

I went first to he hospital and then to the scene of the incident, a four-story brick apartment building on a block that the police spokesman had warned me moments earlier was "bad." The crime scene was still active, and a cop with a canine guarded the buildings' front door.

I talked to around a dozen people and then a stocky man in his 20's wearing basketball shorts, a basketball jersey and a ballcap walked out of the building and past the officer. I walked up to him, apologized for bothering him, and explained that I was a reporter helping out with a story about the shooting. I asked if he'd seen or heard anything.

The man stared at me for a few moments. Then he lunged at me and knocked me to the ground with a haymaker. I hit the cement and the guy pummeled me with punches and kicks, bashing big lumps onto the back and sides of my skull.

I'd love to tell you that I fought back with kung-fu moves, but in that fight my move was to curl into the fetal position and protect my front and face. I also knew my only way out was to get that cop's attention, so I hollered at him.

The cop came over with the dog and pulled the guy off me. The excited German Shepherd's jaws snapped around. The guy was still trying to hit me, and I was still trying to fend him off. Somewhere in this melee the dog bit my left ring and middle fingers. Blood dripped down my hand.

Another cop came over to restrain the guy and when the guy tussled with him, the cop hosed his face down with mace. As the man went down the dog bit his shorts and pulled them down to his ankles. The man lay in handcuffs on the pavement naked from the waist down.

(Grainy cell phone pic of cops looking down at the guy. Note to readers: don't want your bare ass shown on my blog? Please refrain from kicking the holy living shit out of me.)

More cops flooded the scene and, not knowing my story, threw me up against the wall ("Get your fucking hands in the air! Who the fuck are you?"). When they saw my press badge one said, "His story checks out."

They put me in an ambulance and took me back to the hospital. Doctors cleaned my wounds, x-rayed my hand and gave me a tetanus shot and an antibiotics prescription.

My attacker came in a separate ambulance. They wheeled him right past me in the emergency room.
We meet again, Jersey City Medical Center.

Later, a cop came up to me and said, "Do you know who that guy is?" I told him that the man never said a word to me, even as he beat me. "That's the son of the lady who was killed," he said.

Some people hate journalists for exactly that reason, that we dare to talk to people who have just gone through tragedy. I can see the point, but I still think it's the right thing to do. Talking to witnesses, often family and friends, keeps police and public officials honest. It also helps show the world what goes on in inner cities.

I'm very conscious of the fact that in my job I talk to a lot of people on the worst day of their lives: the day their son was murdered, or the day their mom died. I try to approach everyone on the street as sensitively as I can, fully aware that anyone I meet might have just lost someone they cared for. I'm not new and I'm not a fool. If somebody tells me to fuck off, especially if I know they're victim's family, I do. I'm polite on the streets, not pushy.

I also give people carte blanche to react any way they want. Heaven forbid if it was me in their shoes, I don't know what I'd do. I've been punched in the eye and cursed out. I've also had families bring me into their homes and show me photo albums and home videos. For everyone who gets angry at a reporter for asking them about someone they lost, another appreciates it.

When the cop told me this guy was the son of the woman the cops shot, it made me feel low. That guy had a bad night, and then he got maced, stripped and hauled to jail. I had no way of knowing that's who he was, and I had no intention of making his night worse (conversely, I had no intention of getting stomped either).

The whole incident just made me feel bad.

Until the next night when I went out and partied with Tony Bennett.

Dude, Tony Bennett, Brandy Wood & Me. "Hey Tony, next time you're on stage, why not try making a face like this one?")

Thanks Tony.

The More You Suck, The Better You Sound

2009-07-18T16:31:00.000-07:00

A day after doing another good, solo-acoustic gig with my 12-string guitar at Banjo Jim's , I was harp guy, guest Mississippi Saxophonist.

Saturday morning and early afternoon I recorded three blues songs as the mouth organ player for probably my favorite band in New York, The Izzys. These guys play dirty, gritty rock and roll that SWINGS. Singer/songwriter/guitarman Mike Storey's been cool enough to invite me to perform with them on harmonica several times and I love it. Playing with this band is like lassoing a stuntplane - it's an exhilarating ride but hold on, it gets intense.

Mike says he's going to release the three songs we recorded on iTunes. He's threatening to call the EP, "Blues Orgy."

At night I played with another favorite NYC band, Spanking Charlene at the Lakeside Lounge. They had me blow harp on a cool new tune called "Where Are The Freaks?"

I love the harmonica, especially blues harp. For you non-harp players, there are two basic styles of playing harmonica. One is called "straight harp" where the emphasis is on notes you blow, the other is called "blues harp" where you emphasize notes you suck. I play blues harp some, but not too much, on New Heathens songs and even less during my solo gigs (though I am playing more straight harp on a rack; hey if you're doing the Dylan thing you gotta' DO the Dylan thing).

If a solo is required, the harmonica is the only instrument I can do it with. That being said, I can get the job done better than most of the clowns who call themselves harp players in these NYC clubs (not to toot my own horn, or harmonica as the case may be).

However my skills on blues harp I can attribute to one simple, unique fact: it's the only instrument where the more you suck, the better you sound.

In Support of Cool Animals: Sharks & Buffalo

2009-07-15T21:05:00.000-07:00

Some fur & fin stuff...

Saw a great segment on the Rachel Maddow Show last night, pitched and produced by the great Tina Cone, about shark attack survivors lobbying congress to protect sharks. Excellent stuff!

Visit msnbc.com for Breaking News, World News, and News about the Economy

(Bonus points for anybody who can recognize the same Guadalupe great white in the segment above in footage from my own great white YouTube, which I'll take any opportunity to link to this blog.)

Also dug this open letter to Mt. Gov. Brian Schweitzer about buffalo in Montana on New West. Dude who wrote it thinks a lot like me. To get a 'gist of the contentious viewpoints on both sides of the "buffalo roam" issue, read the public comments (note who kicked 'em off...)

Thanks Terry!

2009-07-13T14:44:00.000-07:00

Some awfully nice pix courtesy of my friend Terry Truelove who, in addition to having one of the best names on earth, was nice enough to come out to Banjo Jim's last Friday with her husband John Truelove of the band Coppersonic.

With Charlene McPherson.

"Proud Highway" with "Banjo" Drina Seay.

Sequel

2009-07-13T08:06:00.000-07:00

Banjo's Round II featured a duet with Banjo Drina and a woman you've read about here before whose music I adore, Charlene McPherson. The gig also featured an appearance by superfan Minerva (who has seen me play in five states) and her pal Lisa. Paul Thornton, who attended with his wife, commented on the flailing I gave my new Washburn 12-string and suggested I call the event "Nate Schweber and his Wild Washburn." I'll take it under advisement! See you this Friday, 7 p.m. sharp.

Sequence

2009-07-08T08:59:00.000-07:00

Just thought I'd share.

New Heathens -- "Hello Disaster"

1. Crybaby
2. I Thought You Were My Friend
3. Responsible
4. Thankless War
5. Don't Think I Can't Stop (Just Because I Don't)
6. Pig Pen
7. Only Gets Better
8. Feelin' Lucky Again
9. Proud Highway
10. 27 Years
11. Bastard Like Me

Coming soon...

Not EVEN Cryin' Wolf

2009-07-06T09:20:00.000-07:00

Did my first gig with my new 12-string guitar at Banjo Jim's last Friday. I stayed in tune and had a good time. Thanks to my friend Eileen O'Sullivan (wife or Rich from Fourteen Feet) for the pix.

Remember, I'll be at Banjo Jim's every Friday at Happy Hour (7 p.m. sharp!) for the whole month of July. I'll play stuff from the first New Heathens record, as well as tracks from the brand new record...

Speaking of that long-awaited record, it's finally mixed, mastered AND sequenced. You didn't even read it here first. Roscoe confirmed it on his blog.

Last week I met with my great friend Michael St. George (who did my beautiful Banjo Jim's poster plus the last Gram Parsons tribute poster). We talked about cover art. That'll be the last piece of the puzzle we need before I send it to the factory for (minor) mass production.

I'm not EVEN cryin' wolf, this record is comin'.

And it's a good 'un too.

Apologies to anybody who tried to surf into this site during the day or so it was down. Back up and running again.

It begins again...

2009-07-01T11:45:00.000-07:00

Nate Schweber, live and free at Banjo Jim's,, on the corner of 9th and C in the East Village, every Friday happy hour in July. Show starts at 7 p.m.

Only Trying To Help

2009-06-26T16:05:00.000-07:00

The whole world is in a tizzy over Michael Jackson's death but perhaps no company more so than concert promoters AEG Live. The company, which booked Jackson to play 50 concerts at London's 02 Arena, now stands to lose hundreds of millions unless they find another act to play Jackson's dates.

This is where I thought I could be of some help. Hence, an open letter to AEG Live:

Dear AEG Live,

Allow me to first offer my condolences for the untimely demise of your marquee attraction and hoped for cash cow, Michael Jackson.

I understand you are facing financial ruin due to your investment in his upcoming concert appearances in London. Please let me be the first to humbly offer my services to you as musician and performer. I can fill all or some of the dates that have come open due to Mr. Jackson's unexpected death.

I would perform either as a solo artist or, for a slightly larger fee, with a rock ensemble of my choosing. (The latter would free me up to do more dance moves, an approximation of but by no means a duplication of Jackson's own.)

On the subject of fees, I'm sure you will find mine very consistent with your newly compromised budget. Though my draw would likely be (exponentially?) less than Jackson's, so would my salary.

Additionally, unlike Mr. Jackson, I would not require you to keep on retainer top-notch defense lawyers, cooks, masseuses, backup dancers, primate veterinarians, handlers, child-care specialists, plastic surgeons, therapists, an entourage, Elizabeth Taylor or Tito Jackson. My only requirements would be transatlantic airfare, lodging and a per diem for meals.

Did I mention that I should have a new album coming out this fall? I expect that to boost my concert attendance by an average of .2 persons per show or approximately one whole additional paying customer every ten shows!

I know you are in a bind and being of a certain political persuasion, I cannot help but feel empathy at any major corporation in financial distress.

If you would find it advantageous to substitute me for the late Michael Jackson, please do not hesitate to call or write.

Should you desire to see and hear my performance before booking me for such a high-profile series of shows, I will be playing happy hour at Banjo Jim's on the corner of East 9th Street and Avenue C in New York City every Friday in the month of July from 7 p.m. to 8 p.m.

Admission to Banjo Jim's is free which, if I'm scheduled to play London's O2 Arena, will be the last time for quite a while anyone will be able to see me for that price!

I sincerely look forward to working with you.

Yours truly,
Nate Schweber

Thriller?

2009-06-25T16:02:00.000-07:00

Wow, bizarre news about Michael Jackson.

Does this mean he really gets to come back like this now?

best zombie pic - Find competitions at ibeatyou

Super Adventure Montana Plus

2009-06-20T14:19:00.000-07:00

That's what my friend Jessica Lowry said when I met her on the West Side of Glacier National Park last week and regaled her with tales of the epic travels on which I'd dragged sweet Kristen.

I wanted to share with you some pix of our Super Adventure Montana Plus and I've organized it into six categories, all beginning with "F." Friends, family, flora, fauna, fish and fun.

Hope you enjoy it a fraction as much as I did.

#1: Friends.
Kristen, me, Lido, Jessica & Brendan. Bowman Lake, Glacier National Park. June 13, 2009

Lido at the barbecue, Whitefish, MT

Me & my buddy Brendan, Union Club, Missoula, MT

With banjo picker/troutguide extraordinaire Jack Mauer of Wapiti Waters.

Kristen & Jack.

#2 Family:
My mom and Andre the cat (which everybody calls "Tuna" for some reason I'll never understand)
My stepfather, Bill

My sister, Erin

Shootin' sis.

Bill, Erin & Kristen inspecting the carnage.
Scout, Kristen

#3 Flora (the wildflower crop in Montana this spring was awesome):
Indian Paintbrush

Fairy Slipper, Camas Valley, Glacier National Park

Bitterroots!
Atop Howe Ridge, Glacier National Park

#4 Fauna:
Buffalo, National Bison Range, Mission Valley, MT June 5, 2009

Two moose, Glacier National Park, June 9, 2009

Moose, Whitetail Deer, Glacier Park. June 8, 2009

Loon?

Loon!

Pronghorn Antelope, Bison Range

Chipmunk, Glacier

Skeeters! Arrow Lake, Glacier National Park.

#5 Fish!
Kristen's Glacier Cutthroat

Nate's Glacier Cutthroat

Brook Trout, Lost Lake, Glacier National Park

Fish on! Trout Lake, Glacier National Park.

With a nice Westslope Cutthroat, Bitterroot River (while being guided by Jack Mauer of Wapiti Waters)

Bigger fun that it was big. Kristen's rainbow trout, Bitterroot River, June 14, 2009

Another Bitterroot River cutthroat.

Nice Bitterroot 'bow!

#5.1 Fish part II:
Like a couple of New Yorkers, we went into the backcountry not sure we brought enough food. Hence...
Trout on a stick!

Sorry little guys...

Best backcountry dinner ever!

#6 Fun
Bear hug.

Bears? Puh-lease.

Bear country!

Prerequisite scenery shot, June 12, 2009

Avalanche Lake, Glacier National Park, June 9, 2009

Terror in the Tent!

Trout Lake, Glacier National Park, June 10, 2009

Climbing over avalanches, Camas Valley, Glacier National Park, June 10, 2009

Heaven's Peak, Kristen, Glacier National Park, June 10, 2009

Arrow Lake, Glacier National Park, June 10, 2009

The hike out.

Kristen, end of the hike, letting Howe Ridge know exactly what she thought of it.

Fishin' in style! On a Wapiti Waters guided trip, Bitterroot River, June 14, 2009

Kristen on the Bitterroot, June 14, 2009

Yo ho-ho.

Kristen & the Clearwater Cow

My favorite tiny town on earth, Polebridge, MT, June 13, 2009

Sunset on the North Fork of the Flathead River, near Polebridge, MT, June 12, 2009

(Photo credit, Jessica Lowry. Thanks Jessica.)

Rolling Refugees

2009-06-18T21:33:00.000-07:00

Leader of Sierra Leone's Refugee All-Stars, Reuben Koroma

I finally caught one of my favorite bands in the world, Sierra Leone's Refugee All Stars. I've been ga-ga for this band, which formed in a refugee camp in Guinea, since I heard their first record, "Living Like A Refugee."

Co-founder, Franco Langba

These guy's story makes anybody in any VH1 "Behind the Music" look like a sissy. Everybody in this band was driven from Sierra Leone by a brutal civil war. Some bandmembers saw their families slaughtered, other members had limbs amputated by guerillas wielding machetes. (There's an incredible documentary about this band here.)

The youngest Refugee, Black Nature

Yet the music this band makes is so uplifting and downright fun. What I loved most about the live show was watching the guys come up to the front of the stage and dance. They weren't technically brilliant dancers, but they were enthusiastic dancers. Their joy was infectious. The entire audience, including United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees Director Pierre Bertrand, danced.

I also loved the fact that it was a FREE SHOW at the Robert Gould Theater, part of New Yorks' French Institute. (I've noticed, in the last few years, a too-often inverse relationship between the price of a ticket and the quality of a show).

Like a nerd, it was such a charge for me to meet these dudes in person. Here's the dumb picture of me, being "That Guy" in the Sierra Leone's Refugee All-Stars baseball shirt, posing like a goon with Black Nature.

Me, Black Nature

The Trout of the Trip

2009-06-16T13:48:00.001-07:00

I just got back from a week in Montana where I did plenty of what I love to do most (besides playing rock 'n' roll): flyfish for trout. This trip was special. I brought my girlfriend, Kristen, home for the first time. In addition to meeting my crazy family, I hoped to show her what I love about home, namely troutfishing. We had some wild adventures and the whole thing got me thinking about a phenomenon I call "The Trout of the Trip."

A good trout fishing excursion produces a trout of the trip; the biggest, most memorable, most hard-won fish of the day. I love to catch trout, but thinking back it's always the trout my loved ones have caught that have made me happiest.

Here are my three most memorable trout.

This is probably my favorite photo from when I was growing up. It hangs on my mother's refrigerator. I'm about 12 or 13 in this picture, newly cursed with zits. My brother Sam is about 6, maybe 7. He'd never been fishing before. We went to Rattlesnake Creek, which flows a block from my mom's house and is filled with colorful little trout. I do mean little, a big one in the Rattlesnake is about 10 inches.

Sam was miserable his first day fishing. It was cold and rainy. Neither of us hooked a thing. Frustrated, Sam tried to cast the big, daredevil spoon I tied to the end of his spin rod but it plopped into the water by his feet. He gave it a tug. Snagged on the bottom.

"That's it!" Sam bellowed. "I HATE fishing!"

Suddenly Sam's "snag" shot out into the middle of the creek. His rod doubled over. Something huge writhed in the water, churning it to foam. Sam was in the fight of his life with something almost half as big as he was.

"Help, Nate! Help!" Sam yelled.

When we wrestled that fish to the rocky bank, we couldn't believe it. Our little creek just produced a 28-inch, 7 pound Bull Trout.

Sam's dad, my stepfather Bill, had come looking for us because we stayed out too late. He was going to be mad at us, but when he saw the fish, his jaw dropped. Our neighbor Karen took the picture.

As an epilogue, the picture is a little bit heartbreaking to look at now. That fish, the Bull Trout, is now listed as threatened under the Endangered Species Act. This was the early '90s and we didn't know better. I'd heard stories from old time Montana fishermen about catching monster bulls and I was so excited that my kid brother got one of his own. Were we to catch that trout today, we'd let it go immediately. (That being said, the damn thing fed our family for a week.)

It was the trout of the trip.

This picture is of my other brother, Andrew, who just graduated from High School last week. This was at Pyramid Lake about an hour away from Reno, NV. It's full of Lahontan Cutthroat Trout, and is the only lake in that fish's native range to still hold Lahontans.

I'm a bit of a cutthroat trout nerd so I'm fascinated by Lahontans, which are the biggest cutthroat trout to ever swim. Their story is fascinating,. They were exterminated from their native range, including Lake Tahoe, and thought to be extinct. Then a biologist in the '70s discovered a strain of them in an unnamed mountain stream in Utah. From that biologists were able to re-stock them in Pyramid Lake.

For a few days Andrew, my sister Erin and I rose at 3 a.m. and headed out to the Pyramid Lake before daybreak to try and catch one of these monster Lahontans. It was all my crazy idea and, of course, Andrew was the one who actually reeled one in.

I was so proud of him. He caught the trout of that trip.

Kristen and I hiked more than 14 miles in two days, up and down a 2,500 foot mountain in Montana's Glacier National Park, for this beautiful Westslope Cutthroat Trout. At points along our epic hike, in a valley populated by more grizzly bears than perhaps any other in the lower 48, along a trail blown out by avalanches, through fields of wildflowers, past postcard-perfect lakes, underneath jaggged, snowy peaks, I worried if I'd moronically jeopordized all I'd wanted from this trip home: to show Kristen what I loved about the Rocky Mountains and the trout that swim in her waters.

The hike to our lake nearly killed us. At one point Kristen, exhausted, said she worried we'd made a "terrible mistake" by going so far into the backcountry. Secretly, I did too. Especially when we heard a series of loud grunts near our campsite at dusk, grunts that I feared came from our neighbor, the grizzly bear.

After a nearly sleepless night, contemplating whether our battered bodies could withstand the brutal hike out versus whether we'd get dragged from our tent and eaten by a grizzly if we stayed another night (as happened to a young woman just three miles from our campsite in 1967) I set up for the main purpose of the trip: to get Kristen to catch a trout.

She did. Her first on that sunny Glacier morning was a feisty cutthroat from our mountain lake. God I was relieved. Kristen caught a trout! We didn't get eaten by a bear! Life was good!

Then at the next lake, the appropriately named Trout Lake, Kristen put on an applause-worthy angling performance. She caught no less than a half-dozen native cutthroats, all in quick succession.

The jewel of the trip was the gorgeous, 14-inch cutthroat that Kristen landed. A trout that size in water as cold as Glacier's is a bit of a Moby Dick. My baby nailed it.

I was so thrilled about that Trout of the Trip that it almost made the hike out un-excruciating. Almost.

(What's this got to do with rock 'n' roll you say? Well, via a split-second internet connection at St. Mary's on the East Side of Glacier National Park I got an e-mail from Roscoe saying he likes the new sequence of songs for our album. We're that much closer, so stay tuned. First, though, expect more blogs about trout.)