Saturday, July 14, 2007

But you won't be back there, all dressing in black, drinking sweet tea in styrofoam cups...

I don't often get in front of the curve. Usually I just pretend like I not only have the new album, but I downloaded their demos off some Dutch site before it came out, because I read about them in some Japanese hipster mag that I translated on Babelfish, and they were good, but I'm over them now, and I hear there's this band in Toronto where the lead singer is actually a dog in one of those hind-leg wheelchairs. Then I listen to my Miranda Lambert MP3s (she is a firecracker).

So I don't know if I'm out on front of this one, because I've heard low rumblings about this guy recently, and not from any cool source; I think it might be from free newspapers that don't tax my depleted attention span. Anyway, Jason Isbell. And "Dress Blues" in particular. Seriously, there's nothing like a weeping lap steel; it's up there with handclaps and horns.

Oh, and R.I.P. Mr. Butch. I think a little piece of my early twenties just went up in smoke.


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