The Burning Hotels, Josh Weathers and the True+Endeavors, and The Orbans, and two tribute bands –– Me and My Monkey (The Beatles) and Protect and Swerve (The Police) –– are the first of several 817-area bands to commit to performing as part of Fort Worth Sings’ March 27 benefit concert at Magnolia Green Park for relief efforts in Haiti. For more, read tomorrow’s (Wednesday’s) HearSay.
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Produced by The Black Keys’ Dan Auerbach, Cadillac Sky’s new album, Letters In the Deep, is now set for a summer release. You can catch the trad-bluegrass-rock band –– featuring frontman Bryan Simpson from Fort Worth –– a couple of months earlier at McDavid Studio in Sundance Square. The album will be released through a “unique partnership deal” with Dualtone Music, according to the Nashville-based entertainment company whose roster includes Guy Clark and Charlie Robison. Apparently, “unique partnership” means that Cadillac Sky will still be “owning and controlling [its] music,” according to the band’s manager.
In the studio in Auerbach’s hometown of Akron, Ohio, the band “rose to the occasion,” according to Auerbach. “There’s some really beautiful songs on Letters In the Deep. It is as much of a living album as it is an art piece, and I’m definitely proud to have my name attached to this project. Whatever genre it is, it’s a really great album, and I’m happy that I got to make it.”
The McDavid show is Wed., March 3.
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CBS is at an all-time low. The sit-coms suuuuuck, the nonstop golf coverage on the weekends is excruciatingly unnecessary, Dave Letterman is a mere parody of himself and Craig Ferguson’s anti-funny monologues are cringe-inducing-ly embarrassing, The Early Show’s hosts are more soporific than 20 Xanaxes chased by a fifth of Jack, and even 60 Minutes isn’t what it once was. Does anyone really need any more fucking celebrity interviews? And I’m all for seeing “Leggy” Lara Logan onscreen, but just because she has spent some time on the ground (and reportedly in the sack) with U.S. troops in far-off deserts doesn’t mean she has anything significant to say.
The CSIs are –– unintentionally –– hilarious. “My name’s Horatio, and I talk in a real hushed voice, and I always end a conversation with a one-liner while turning my back to you. I’m a real badass.” Yeah, you’ve got that right, Horatio. You’re indeed bad, and you are an ass.
The only two things worth a damn on CBS are Criminal Minds and the perennial Emmy winner for best reality competition show, The Amazing Race. (Numb3rs is OK, too, I guess.)
Worst of all is CBS’ pro football coverage. With the exception of host James Brown and analyst Boomer Esiason, who back when he was a color commentator never, as far as I can recall, missed a single penalty call and could figure out a team’s tendencies before the opposing head coach could, the analysts –– Dan Marino, Bill Cowher, and Shannon Sharpe –– have the collective football IQ of about 50. Oh, you say, but Cowher coached a Super Bowl-winning team. Yeah, but if you actually watched every Steelers game during his tenure –– I did; I’m a Steelers fan –– you would have realized that he could have won five Super Bowls based on the sheer caliber of players he had. How run-left/run-right/throw-an-incompletion not only got him to the Super Bowl but also landed him a Super Bowl victory is beyond me.
And Marino is stiffer than a five-ounce shot of rumplemintz, and Sharpe –– does anyone even know what the hell he’s saying? Has he ever even uttered a complete sentence or finished a complete thought?
Marino, Cowher, and Sharpe were their usual anti-charismatic, non-football-knowin’ selves yesterday before and after the Super Bowl, and the two guys calling the game –– Jim Nance and Phil Simms –– were their usual big-dog-little-dog selves but to particularly annoying effect. Here’s a re-enactment of a typical Nance-Simms exchange from yesterday.
Nance: “That was some run, wasn’t it, Phil? Wasn’t it?!”
Simms: “A great run. But that’s because the guard …”
(Replay of guard faceplanting and nipping a defender’s shoelaces on the way down.)
Simms: “… makes an excruciating block on the linebacker, just blows him right out of the hole!”
Nance: “Do you like strawberry daiquiris?”
Simms: “I tell you what, the Indianapolis Colts have to do a better job of tackling the Saints’ running backs.”
Nance: “I have two tickets to Belize –– we could leave right now.”
Simms: “The Saints are probably thinking, ‘We could do this all day. Just run plays and gain yardage.’ ”
Nance: “Sleep with my wife.”
Simms: “The Saints and Colts are playing.”
Nance: “I love you.”
And so on. And you’d have to think that the halftime entertainment –– a mini-concert by Jurassic rockers The Who –– had something to do with the fact that three Who classics are regularly aired during episodes of CSI: New York and all 900 CSI spinoffs. Which brings up another point: CBS’ unabashed, perversely gleeful willingness to bend over to any advertiser. Food Network’s Guy Fieri, whom I normally like, actually had to do a segment on Ritz crackers and all two ways you can use them. And now the food guy with the spiky blond hair will be balls-deep in peroxide and crackers for the rest of his life.
The good news for CBS was that the game itself was all that any fan of American-style football could want from a Super Bowl. The commercials? That’s another story. Or 12.
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This year’s Super Bowl halftime show should let the event’s producers know loud and clear (and very off-pitch) that it’s time to retire the geriatric rockers.
I was at The Cellar on West Berry Street during the game last night but missed the halftime show. Later in the evening I talked to a rabid Who fan.
“How’d it go?” I asked.
“Ehhh,” was his response.
Then he brightened up. “Zak Starkey played drums and he was great.”
It’s bad news when a fan says the highlight of the show was Ringo’s son sitting in on drums.
After I got home I cranked up my Tivo and watched the debacle myself.
If this were American Idol, judge Randy Jackson would have said, “Pitchy, dawgs.” Paula Abdul would have spoon fed herself a bowl of Seconals (and she’s not even an Idol judge anymore).
Pete Townshend’s “harmonies” overpowered Roger Daltrey’s erratic but relatively better vocals. And, sorry, but when I see Townshend doing the windmill move these days I just worry about him tearing a rotator cuff.
On the positive side, Daltrey nailed his primal scream coming out of the organ break on “Won’t Get Fooled Again.” That’s a tough trick. The tone on Townshend’s guitar was gorgeously raw and mean — he hit a couple of chords that sounded like explosions of thunder. And Starkey pummeled the drums with a ferocity that would have made Keith Moon proud.
The light show and fireworks were cool too.
Overall, though, I agree with the fan who said, “Ehhh.”
It’s time to forget about Janet Jackson’s exposed nipple. It’s time to hire some of the 21st Century’s new wave of female rockers.
Lady Gaga is tailor made for a halftime show. Or, if it’s so important for producers to hire older, established rock bands with well-known hits, how about Heart?
Here’s Lady Gaga’s recent performance at the 2010 Grammy Awards:
Now that another work week has begun, how will you cope? The Fort’s contemporary theater troupe Amphibian Productions comes to the rescue. Monday (February 8), check out their 7pm staged reading of Lanie Robertson’s “Woman Before a Glass” at the Modern. This one woman show concerns Peggy Guggenheim, the wealthy New York art collector (her daddy drowned with the Titanic in 1912; her uncle established the Guggenheim Foundation) whose dear friends included Cocteau, Picasso, Kandinsky, Duchamp, Brancusi, Dali, and Pollock. She also had an affair with Samuel Beckett, which sounds like more fun that it probably was.
Then on Tuesday (February 9), join the ‘Phibs and their friends for February’s ”Celebrity Bartending at Grace” event. Amphibian company members Carman Lacivita, Jonathan Fielding, and Elizabeth Mason will be your mixologists 5-7pm. Proceeds go to support local theater. When it comes to pouring alcohol, actors have tricky wrists, or so the legend goes – their highballs will flatten you like a California rock slide.
Congrats to Fort Worth writer-director Tom Huckabee for winning ”Best Narrative Feature” at this weekend’s seventh annual Oxford Film Festival in Mississippi for his dark comedy ”Carried Away.” (“The Scenesters,” co-starring the Keller, TX-raised actor-writer Kevin Brennan, took runner-up in that competition).
“Carried Away,” shot in Tarrant County and the California desert, follows a young director (Gabriel Horn) who returns home from California to rescue his stroke-patient grandmother (Juli Erickson) from her nursing home “prison” and the clutches of his dysfunctional Texas family. The film’s score was provided by local twisted Americana faves The Theater Fire.
I haven’t written about Goodwin in a while, but let’s just say that Tony Diaz and company had better be in the studio –– tracks from their last CD, the now-classic Goodwin 2 (one of the best local albums of the decade, IMHO), are getting some airplay on the kick-assingest terrestrial radio station now broadcasting out of North Texas, KXT/91.7-FM. Strike while the iron is hot and all that. But fans of good ol’ fashioned punch-you-in-the-nuts rock-and-mother-fuckin’-roll shouldn’t be getting their hopes up. Goodwin 2 took the band, like, 20 years to make. I’m exaggerating, of course. And we all understand that local musicians have mortgages and rents to pay, girlfriends and boyfriends to throw gifts at, cats and dogs to feed, value packs of Top Ramen to buy. But you get my drift. Goodwin = slowwwww.
Maybe Goodwin will play some new songs tomorrow night (Saturday) at The Moon (2911 W Berry St, by TCU, 817-926-9600), with oso closo and The Backsliders. Maybe not. Maybe there aren’t even any new Goodwin songs to play. Still, you’d do well by all that’s rocktastic by going to see a band that ranks among the 817’s finest of all time. Right up there with The Toadies and Flick. And Yeti. And Calhoun.
Tonight (Friday) at The Moon, old-school blue-eyed soul will be in the house, courtesy of Josh Weathers & The True+Endeavors. On the less funky, more indie-rocky side of the bill is Odis, whose four members will be performing sans shoes for a good cause.
This weekend at Spencer’s Corner (6861C Green Oaks Dr, by Ridgmar Mall, 817-652-6090), tribute bands will –– like prom for some people –– rule. Tonight (Friday), catch Swansong, a tribute to Led Zeppelin. Tomorrow night (Saturday), there’s Prophets of Rage, a tribute to Rage Against the Machine, playing with exceptional Fort Worth funk-rockers Rabbit’s Got the Gun.
Tonight (Friday) at Lola’s-Sixth (2736 W 6th St in the W 7th St corridor, 817-877-0666), the three young hard-psych rocking lads who are Jefferson Colby will celebrate the release of their new CD, Octopus, with hip-hoppers the Rivercrest Yacht Club, who will be celebrating dope-ass beats, 100 percent wack-free rhymes, and hooch, and ad-hoc jammers Impulse of Will, who will be celebrating live improv, guitar sex, and Fu Manchus.
Tonight (Friday) at Wasted Words Art Collective (2404 S Fielder Rd, Arlington): Yellow Crystal Star, Jonathan Horne, Colossi, and some other insane people.
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Regional Environmental Protection Agency Administrator Dr. Al Armendariz made quite a splash last night at the February meeting of the North Central Texas Communities Alliance. Featured speaker Armendariz drew between 250 and 300 people to the Hotel Trinity Inn, where he spoke about the EPA’s role in overseeing the issues of air and water quality as they relate to hydraulic fracturing for natural gas.
Armendariz announced that the EPA has funding to begin a study of both air and water quality in gas drilling regions throughout the United States.
“He said the EPA is going to be studying all aspects of the water issue and natural gas,” said Sharon Wilson, a longtime responsible-drilling advocate. “They’ll be looking at fraccing’s effect on water tables, aquifers, wells. They’ll be looking into cases that involve possible contamination and they’ll be looking at the issue of wastewater disposal in injection wells. They’re even going to be looking at possible contamination of ground water via sludge pits on drilling sites.”
Armendariz also discussed the EPA possibly making changes to some of the guidelines currently in place that relate to acceptable levels of dangerous chemicals in the ambient air around gas wells and compressor stations.
Until recently, the issues of both water contamination and ambient air quality has been in the hands of state agencies functioning under guidelines set by the federal EPA. In Texas, the agency in charge has been the Texas Commission on Environmental Quality, (TCEQ).
“I think you could say that Dr. Armendariz is not happy with the job the TCEQ has done,” said Gary Hogan, a member of both the 2006 and 2008 Fort Worth drilling ordinance committees. “So he’s cranking up the pressure on TCEQ to get it done and get it right.”
According to Don Young, long time FW community activist, the quote of the night from Armendariz was “If TCEQ doesn’t do their job, the EPA is going to help them along.”
“It was a not-so-thinly veiled way of telling TCEQ to get off their asses and get to work,” said Young.
Bryce Avary, a.k.a. The Rocket Summer, dishes on his prom days in Cosmo Girl. Among other profundities, Avary tells the magazine for future MRS degree seekers, “Prom can really suck for some people, and rule for others.” No way! Nah, Avary’s a sweet kid, and I’m glad he’s getting some more much-deserved national press –– he’s also been on the cover of Alternative Press magazine. The 817 tween-pop rocker’s new album, Of Men and Angels, will be out in a couple of weeks.
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If not for the mammary gland seen ‘round the world, we wouldn’t be enduring tired old acts such as The Who during the Super Bowl telecast.
Ever since Justin Timberlake got grabby with Janet Jackson, prompting a “wardrobe malfunction” in 2004, the Super Bowl halftime show has trotted out one tame geezer after another.
The fairer sex has unfairly been banned for life.
Post Nipplegate, Paul McCartney crooned in 2005. The Rolling Stones creaked in 2006. Prince kicked ass in 2007, but then the yawn fests continued with Tom Petty in ’08 and Bruce Springsteen in ’09.
Where’s Lady Gaga? Beyonce? Amy Winehouse? Taylor Swift (ha, just checking to see if you’re still paying attention)?
This year we get a band that released a handful of great songs 40 years ago but never measured up to their rock contemporaries. Of course, they’re still alive, so that works in their favor.
Let’s see, there’s “My Generation,” “The Kids Are Alright,” “Pinball Wizard,” “Won’t Get Fooled Again,” and “Who Are You.” That’s probably what they’ll play in a rushed, 12-minute medley.
I’d rather hear “Listening To You,” “Mobile,” and “Behind Blue Eyes,” and a big finish with “Love Reign O’er Me.”
Actually, I’d rather hear Lady Gaga or Amy Winehouse but they have bosoms, which might somehow get exposed and END LIFE AS WE KNOW IT!
Everyone knows the economic downturn started shortly Jackson’s nipple was seen.
But no one cares if Roger Daltrey’s nipples are glimpsed.
Here’s the band’s version of “Reign” from the Live AID Concert in 1985:
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