Gosh Darn Official Year's End Stinking Wrap-Up (Locals)

Here’s some things that happened this year:

1. Lots of New CDs By Local Musicians: By my count, eleven (counting Patty Larkin, who would be something of a ringer) -which seems like quite a few. The pick of the litter (excepting Patty, whose praises I’ve been singing regularly already, and McCawley Burke, whose recent release I’ve not yet heard) arrived toward the end of the year in the form of debut releases from the High Kings and Anna Whiteley, who have much in common in terms of experience, talent, and promise -not to mention that both Anna and High King Jay Cournoyer hail from the Hyannis band Form Alex.
   
   Both of these are assured and interesting pieces of work -and flawed, too; but the flaws are mostly from restlessness and from taking chances, and those are the right reasons. They also share particularly good singing, occasional great songs, and a bit of personality (they also both include tracks from Brewster’s latest addition to the recording world, Aaron Spade’s tiny Shack studio). What should happen is that they’ll get enough encouragement locally to proceed immediately to their follow-up releases, which I’ll bet will be way better; in the meantime, what we have here is pretty good already, and they’re both experienced, fun live acts.
   
   The rest of the Class of ‘97 was remarkably varied, including punks (Philthshack, whose lead singer Tom Fettig originated the famous Qua-hawk hair style); rhythm‘n’blues guys (the Journeymen Rhythm Section, whose leader Michael Canfield is one of the best rock’n’roll drummers I’ve ever heard); swooshy synthesizer guys (Bionaut -if I’ve said it once, I’ve said it a thousand times: they’re swooshy!); "mainstream" rockers (Borrowed Time -who can just thank their lucky stars I don’t have anything personal on them -yet); "alternative" guys (the Lucky Charms -who don’t really even live here, but what the heck); interesting, arty acousticians (Eric Carter with fellow San Franciscans Mumble and Peg -he used to live here); slightly southern rock thingbluespeople (John Sedlock -definitely, definitely lives here); and everything else the really bright young people of today care about (Mike Iacuessa’s the "Cape Cod Underground Experience" compilation -about forty teenagers who live in my basement, which my wife, the angelic yet ebullient Mrs. Kelp, says is getting "rather crusty" as a result).
2. Some Cool New Bands Started Up: namely Electric Swing Set and Earth Jr., both featuring former members of the Press (I believe); Nikolai Svishov’s Electric-Acoustic Siberian Jazz Trio, who may not be locals in the strictest sense, but for a few satisfying months this summer, they had the same itinerary; Space Posse, risen from the ashes of Space Pussy; and the more recent Come Ons (risen from the ashes of the Incredible Casuals), who debuted only recently (propriety, good taste, and a strict moral code are the only thing preventing me from mentioning the Chandler Travis Philharmonic here; phew, that was close).
3. Some Cool Old Bands Packed It In: the afore-mentioned Space Pussy and the Incredible Casuals, though we’ll keep checking for vital signs...
4. There Were Some Great Shows By Some Amazing Bands From Off-Cape: like NRBQ at the Barley Neck, the Skatalites at the WOMR benefit, and (most amazingly) Ray Davies at Cape Cod Community College (fellow Kinks fanatics will also want to know that brother Dave Davies has also surfaced for some noisy band shows in the northeast lately -at Lupo’s in Providence, for instance -and that reports were very encouraging). I also heard wonderful things about Burning Spear at the Beachcomber and David Byrne at the Melody Tent.
5. It Was the Best Summer for Weather I Can Even Remember: in a reckless display of rapture and enthusiasm, I actually left the house.
6. Michael Jordan Won the "Best Dancer" Title Yet Again: nobody does it better than the Second Hardest Working Man in Show Business.
7. Link Montana Said That Tim Dickey Was Getting Really Loud and Wild on Guitar: I went back in my house.
8. The Barley Neck Re-emerged as a Great Place to Hear Music: after a period of inactivity, owners Joe and Kathy brought the place back as a (much improved) music and dancing room in the off-season. The only other interesting developments on the club scene were the openings of the Riptide in Eastham (hopefully, they’ll survive a first season that was not without growing pains, following a strong opening) and the Sou’wester in Chatham (who did an excellent job of sound-proofing, and who seem to be hanging in there). Otherwise, the status quo was maintained, thanks to the fine efforts of the folks at places like Rick’s in Eastham, The Wellfleet Beachcomber, and the Land Ho in Orleans
9. First Year With No Dick: Wetmore, that is, who had the temerity to stay with wife Marge in Florida for the whole year, despite being extensively missed hereabouts.
10. Some Radio Stations Got Stronger, Some Evaporated: WOMR got a stronger signal, and WUNX -the modern rock station -went bye-bye.
11. Trendy Rock Columnists Got More and More Money For Doing Practically Nothing: I can dream, can’t I?

Official Damn Year's End Wrap-Up (CDs)

And now, here it is again, without a single person in the whole world asking for it except my editor; yes, it’s my Official End Of The Year Wrap-Up, in which I take a whole year and try to wrap it up, the better that it may be speedily consigned to oblivion. Actually, 1996 wasn’t such a bad year, as far as I can tell; it just wasn’t very conclusive. I don’t think it will ever be thought of as a year where anything started; neither did anything stop, lately. In general, an affable, let’s-not-step-on-anyone’s-toes kind of year.

A sissy year. A year that was never comfortable with its masculinity, at the same time as it completely lost touch with its softer, feminine side. A year that always got the attention it deserved, without ever really working for it. Basically, 1996 Jr.

Still, lots of good stuff came out, as always; my very faves fall into two major categories: almost perfect, and very swell, indeed. "Almost perfect" is the best; that means there isn’t a lame track on the whole thing ( -still a minor miracle even in modern times). "Very swell, indeed" is still a very high recommendation -at worst, it means there’s a little falter or three, maybe; but I can listen to all of these albums all the way through with nary a grimace. (I mention this now, of course, so that all you people will follow my instructions and buy people proper music this holiday season, etc., etc., for it is only through this unselfish act that I can be rendered useful.

For my money, the cream of the crop are: Freedy Johnston, "Never Home" (Elektra), by far the best rootsy thing I heard all year (also very pop-y and remarkably consistent); the Muffs’ "Happy Birthday to Me" (Reprise), a tuneful yet thrashy blast of rock’n’roll from the missing link between the Ramones and the Shirelles; Papas Fritas’s "Helioself" (Minty Fresh), including possibly the single of the year, the amazing "Hey Hey You Say", plus about seven other amazingly perfect pop songs; Michael Penn’s "Resigned" (Epic/57), which is about as close as we’ll ever get to a great ‘90’s John Lennon album, and as such another brilliant pop confection; and "The Club Foot Orchestra Plays Nino Rota" (Rastascan), by far the best collection of music from Fellini’s films (including most of the original soundtracks themselves) and an absolute delight.

Continuing the "A" list, we have the Flaming Lips’ remarkable 4-CD "Zaireeka" (Warner Bros.), an outrageous gamble that succeeds brilliantly on levels that have barely been invented yet, despite the fact that I’m a total songs-fascist (for me, if you’re not working with a good song, you’re usually doomed in advance), and this concept (four CDs, played as simultaneously as humanly possible, on four different sound systems) pretty much by-passes the need for songs (the very fact that you almost can’t listen to this properly without three other guys being there inadvertently makes the whole process hilarious and new); and the Replacements repackage "All for Nothing, Nothing for All" (Reprise), which is that rare, lengthy retrospective-with-lots-of-outtakes that manages to avoid unintentionally diminishing its subject.

I’d love to add "The Master - Marvin Gaye" 4 CD collection (Motown) and Brave Combo & Lauren Agnelli’s "Kiss of Fire" (Watermelon) to the list, because they’re both wonderful; but I did find out (after the fact, natch) that neither came out this year (heck, the Marvin anthology wasn’t even from ‘96; it was from whatever that year was they had just before ‘96). Anyway, they were definitely two of the year’s major discoveries for me.

Also brilliant (at least very swell, indeed) were: NRBQ’s "You’re Nice People You Are" (Rounder), supposedly their "children’s" album; Margaret Leng Tan’s haunting "The Art of the Toy Piano" (Point Music); Don Byron’s fascinating re-creations of vintage Ellington, Raymond Scott, and John Kirby on "Bug Music" (Elektra Nonesuch); Patty Larkin’s "Perishable Fruit" (High Street), which sustains a lovely, drifting mood throughout; Letters to Cleo’s "Go!" (Revolution)(for all of us dis-placed Go-gos fans); Of Montreal’s "Cherry Peel" (Bar/None), a welcome new branch in the Jonathan Richmond/Kinks/tunefully whimsical tree; Derrick Morgan’s "Time Marches On" (Heartbeat), featuring many fabulous vintage Skatalites band tracks; the "Tree’s Lounge"soundtrack (MCA) (and also from ‘96, now that I mention it ), featuring my other single major discovery of the year, Bill Deal & the Rondells’ "I’ve Been Hurt", plus the Mills Bros., the Ink Spots, Shane MacGowan, and Brenda Lee; and Caetano Veloso’s recent soundtrack to "Tieta De Agreste" (Blue Jackal), a very pretty Brazilian orchestral album that also features Gal Costa. (I’m tempted to add Jonatha Brook’s new "10c Wings" (MCA/Refuge), but I’ve only heard the first four songs. So far, so good, though.)

Also, "Count Your Blessings" (Alert Music Inc), a recording of a live concert of Christmas music featuring Jane Siberry, Mary Margaret O’Hara, Holly Cole, Rebecca Jenkins, and Victoria Williams, together and in turn, accompanied by pianist Tim Ray that is the most interesting new Xmas release I’ve been able to find in the current crop; the title song and Ms. Siberry’s two songs are particularly lovely, and Holly Cole’s tracks particularly disposable; still, a very strong collection (though it seems to be a Canadian release from 1994; worth a search, though). I even like Altan’s "Runaway Sunday" (Virgin), despite an extreme anti-Celtic music bias that I’m quite proud of, in general; but there’s a song on this one, ("A Moment in Time") that is absolutely gorgeous. And don’t forget my good friend Ken Field’s "Subterranea" (OoMusic), a very unconventional yet approachable album of not-jazz featuring the saxophone, percussion, and (gasp!) flute meanderings of the talented title character.

The year’s most promising debuts were made by Jason Falkner, Skavoovie and the Epitones, locals the High Kings and Anna Whiteley, the afore-mentioned Of Montreal, and the brand new You Am I, whose new "Hourly, Daily" (Sire) is a brash pop album with echoes of earlier british bands like the Kinks, the Who, and XTC, and a couple of swell songs.

And that’s it. Go forth and purchase.

Some Brief Holiday Hints

It’s getting to be that time of year where you’re probably wondering to yourself, "well, shouldn’t I get someone a lovely gift?" or "hey, I’d better buy now whatever they say." Don’t be a sagging stick! Have the dirt to be the happiest holiday giant jingling maniac for your family, before they even notice you’re gone!

That’s where I come in, with this year’s "Suggestions of People to Buy Things For Them" or, "What You Want, Dude!" In no time, you’ll feel like you have half the harmonica you used to be, but larger! (It’s a wonder I’ve never done this before, as I certainly seem to take to it. I particularly like the way the sentences just keep going...this is definitely my snazziest opening in quite a while...I’d better alert the missus...)...

(...Radiant Flower That She Inevitably Is...)

Have you considered an oscellot? Most people know little about the kind of joy and sense of well-being a pet oscellot can bring to his owner; I, myself, for instance (as an example), know nothing about this rightfully neglected subject. But doesn’t that make it all the more unique and thoughtful a gift for that certain someone? What a conversation piece! Your friends will say, "Hmmm! _______ has a new oscellot!" or "Gee, your house smells like oscellots!".

By now, you’re probably thinking, "but Thurston, I mean, Mr. Kelp, what if my loved/certainspecialsome one is allergic to cats? (And by the way, regards to the missus, whom I hear is one hot babe!)?"

To me, this is not a problem, as sneezing is something more and more people (such as fashion models, athletes, and astronauts) are starting to do to make themselves more attractive to others of themselves, or, sometimes, just to pass the time. Here at Kelp Manor, my wife (the hopelessly seductive Mrs. Kelp) and I collapse into uncontrollable sneezing fits whenever we can, especially when the family gets together on the holidays. Eastham is a mad whirl.

But let’s get back to music. Went to the Barley Neck and saw the High Kings last weekend, who I thought were coming along quite nicely. For the first set , bassist Cliff Letsche played an upright instead of an electric, which I much preferred; later on, they did a delightful version of the Who’s "Odorono". They also have some swell originals and a playful sense of arranging, plus one of the cape’s best singers: drummer Jay Cournoyer, who’s shortly headed to Florida for a month or two. This means their show at the Mill Hill Club in West Yarmouth this Sunday could be their last for a little while (though their postcard also says they’ll be at Harry’s in Hyannis for New Year’s Eve; double-check with the band at 778 6295...

I’ve also been getting a lot of email lately from a new band called Mahogany Ridge, who’ll be at the Prodigal Son in Hyannis tomorrow (Saturday) night; don’t know what they sound like (though they identify themselves as "the rockingest acoustic band around"; I can’t help but suspect the rockability of any band that leaves the "g" in "rockingest", but who knows?), but they definitely have a computer...

There’s a benefit being held at the Barley Neck Inn next Sunday, the 21st, to benefit the family of Micheal "Burd" Burdulis, who died of cancer last fall; it’ll be an all-Christmas program with the accent on original material, and will feature Bruce Maclean, Red Limousine, Anna Whiteley, Fred Fried, Sarah Burrill, Arron Spade, Chandler Travis, Steve and Liz Shook, Tim Dickey, Space Posse’s Eric Short, and the proverbial many others...

Regulator Johnson’s Brian Miller informs me that there’s a new coffeehouse open on Tuesday nights in Chatham at the Chatham Village Cafe that features an open mike from 7-9 and no cover...sounds like an invitation to trouble, alright...

And what do I want for Christmas? I want that big truck that picks up the big blocks they use on the median on the southeast expressway -man, that thing is the coolest! Imagine just being able to lay down medians wherever you go! I’ve got to get one! C’mon you guys...

See you.

Thanksgiving in Zaireeka

Oh, no, Thanksgiving. Oh, no, Christmas. The holiday season circles, vulture-like, and descends.

And how are you? The Mrs. (she of the sculpted beauty and lo, yon cheekbones on high) and I are still smarting from a Thanksgiving in which we were outnumbered , young-person-to-human-wise, by over two to one, as we were visited by two of the Kelp nieces and nephews, Owen and Armenia, and their hench-persons, Martin and Lainey. Eventually, they were joined, in turn, by their friends Zoltan and Popsitina (that’s one of the problems with young people: they attract other young people). That meant that at one time, we had almost nine different people, all in Lovely Kelp Manor, trying to eat, at one time. Way too many -a bad idea; never happen again; hohoho.

Luckily, though, there was biscuits and bean dip for all, with plenty of Hi-C in festive holiday containers. Only eleven stalking days left til’ Santa and His Dwarves...a curdled howl of attempted joyfulness...reason ebbing slowly away....

Actually, one thing that we did do over the holidays with the chilluns (there are literally thousands of Kelp nieces and nephews -why, they’re littered all over the Barbary Coast -but most of them have been unable to locate us so far) was listen to the Flaming Lips’ "Zaireeka" CD (on Warner Bros.). As you may remember from a couple of columns ago, that’s the one that has four different CDs, and you’re supposed to listen to them all at once on four separate CD players. Previously, I had only established that listening to them one at a time was surprisingly interesting; this time, thanks to the efforts of my neighbor Denzel, we got to hear three out of four at once on some extra equipment he had been able to come up with, and again, I was very impressed.

For one thing, the very act of listening in this manner provokes a unique and interesting social experience; you’re immediately surprised at how unusual the simple act of listening to something with a bunch of other people feels -it’s something people don’t really do much anymore. Also, the inherent problems of mixing something for eight speakers that will inevitably not be in perfect sync are met ingeniously -the damn thing really works pretty well! Though there’s not all that much in the way of catchy tunes, in general, this is a most wonderful surprise, bracingly radical and disarmingly immediate -and trying to listen to them all at one time is a true adventure.

Other potential stocking stuffers: the new Replacements compilation "All for Nothing, Nothing for All" (Reprise) is about as close to flawless as it could be, divided into one CD of greatest hits and one of b-sides and rarities; both are delightful, the latter surprisingly so, with a lot less disposables than you’d expect. (I’ve found that a lot of times when someone issues a whole side of outtakes etc., you end up with the depressing feeling of agreeing with the record company that demurred about putting the stuff out in the first place -and noone wants to agree with a record company.) And a lot of this stuff is just as slobby and silly as you’d expect, but somehow, they always put it over. I’ve always missed this band, anyway -this set just makes it all the more wonderfully excruciating.

More energetic but rarely as soulful is Everclear’s "So Much for the Afterglow" (Capitol), which is catchy, calculated, poppy, and propulsive in the manner of a more hyper Smithereens; those who find this one too glossy may enjoy the ravings of Guitar Wolf on their new "Planet of the Wolves" (Matador) -especially those who dislike hi fidelity, seeking instead the all-out assault of the Japanese garage band unleashed. Guitar Wolf also appear on "Tokyo Trashville" (Au Go Go), another raver featuring insane Japanese garage bands recorded insanely in insane Japanese garages; the 5. 6. 7. 8’s "Ki-Kya Shout" is alone well worth the price of admission.

For an ancient American ancestor approach to the time-honored tradition of garage rock, you could do worse than Bobby Fuller, whose double CD "Shakedown" (Del-Fi) collects many early, self-produced efforts prior to the Texan’s hits with "I Fought the Law" and "Let Her Dance" (though there are two versions of the former included). It’s somewhat hit or miss, but the good stuff is great, and even the bad stuff has a great spirit to it. The packaging is absolutely inspired, capturing the look of a sixties plastic reel of Scotch recording tape right down to the handwriting in pen scratched out on the back with pieces of it ripped off. It looks so good, it provides the perfect context, which in turn actually makes the whole thing sound better.

On the local front, Borrowed Time has released a seven song CD called "Blend" (Spin One) on which the opening track "It Comes Apart" is a clear highpoint, featuring a perfect production and performance that makes the most of an OK commercial rock song; the rest was not much my cup of tea, being mainstream, MTV-for-the-nineties rock. Also, my friend Eric Carter, who (prior to his re-location in San Francisco) used to play in the band Tripp Lullaby with my other friend Eric Short (who is continuing with two of the other original members of Space Pussy as "Space Posse" -ah, but that’s another story), appears with the band Mumble & Peg on "Wondering in Volume" (Vaccination), another record that is ingeniously packaged. The music itself is rather meandering and oblique, containing interesting lyrics that are perhaps better read than sung; it’s a little arty, a little dour; not easy listening, but not abrasive, either -I may need more time with this one. Call 508 432 6675 for more info on Borrowed Time; write to Vaccination Records, P.O. Box 20931, Oakland, CA 94611 for more on Eric Carter.

That’s it for now; next week, further proof that the human brain is the most over-rated organ in existence...til’ then, happy impending Yule log....

The Mrs. Returns

I’ve been getting so many inquiries this week about (the relentlessly photogenic) Mrs. Kelp that I thought I should start right off this week by coming straight out and confronting the rumors being spread around here by all you two-bit, no-account readers. No, Mrs. Kelp (the person for whom I live, breathe, and vacuum) and I are not "on the outs", as they say; the truth is, we’ve never been so in love. (When we pass, other couples say "gosh, I wish we looked more like them"; sometimes, in unison. Sometimes the woman says it, alone, and then the man says something like "yeah, except for the fat one with the moustache". I shuffle listlessly, adjusting my cardigan.)

The rumors apparently stem from the fact that She (my dewy-eyed enchantress) somehow failed to make Her usual appearance in the last couple of columns (unbeknownst to yours truly, who’s been off on a gambling spree the last few weeks; it would appear the new ghostwriter is not working out). (I tell them again and again, make sure you mention my completely and fabulously legal yet still fresh as snow Mrs. every now and then because that’s who the people pay to see but noooo, do they ever listen to me? No, of course not! And why should they? I’m only the guy they’re supposed to be imitating!

Well, just because I can’t afford a decent ghostwriter, that’s no reason to assume our marriage is on the rocks. I’m sorry, I don’t mean to get so worked up about it, but we’ve been under a lot of pressure lately, between my recent enormous skin graft (over four yards!) and our young son Kody’s court battles (as you may’ve read, young Kody has been accused of selling guns to people from Harwich; it was all just a tragic misunderstanding- )

Thankfully, my darling wife, the surprisingly resilient, unexpectedly stretchy Mrs. Kelp (for whom I do a series of tricks) has stood right by me all the way through this difficult time, and we all hope (even my young thug son, Kody) that someday, together, we will kill all our detractors.

Well, it certainly feels good to have gotten that off my chest.

Also, I’d like to take full responsibility for a couple of mistakes I made in my recent coverage of new releases by John Sedlock, the High Kings, and Anna Whiteley. First of all, i’d like to apologize to John for losing his album before listening to it, and acknowledge that while conventional journalistic wisdom would in fact dictate listening to something before writing about it rather than after, I still think this was a pretty interesting little experiment that admittedly just didn’t quite get off the ground.

I have since managed to find (and listen to) the album in question and was delighted to find a very nice version of one of the afore-mentioned Anna Whiteley’s better songs, "The Night Was Thunder", which also features some nice harmony work from High King Danny Lyons. The seven-song CD is called "Wolf in Wolf’s Clothing" and is available from John at P.O. Box 764, S. Yarmouth, MA 02664. I was also interested to find that, according to the cover photo, Mr. Sedlock is much younger than I pictured him.

I further erred in the same article by saying that Mr. Sedlock was the man behind Tollie, which put out Ms. Whiteley’s fine new effort; he isn’t, though he does play bass on it and did lend a hand in production. As we all know, there’s a world of difference between playing bass on something and owning it - as I’m sure even the unprecedentedly flexible Mrs. Kelp would agree.

I was also amused to see, on my return, that my good colleague Alan W. Petrucelli had seen fit to write a rather scathing review of the Spice Girls; I propose, in a show of fellowship, to savage the new Hanson album (regardless of what it sounds like) in these very pages next week. (If there’s one thing I never could stand, it’s popular young people.) Together, Alan and I will bring the music industry to its knees!

Kolumn Go Bye-Bye

Readers, I come to you this week with my head hanging low. It appears that through a particularly Kelpian brand of software expertise I have, immediately upon finishing it, somehow deleted this week’s fine kolumn.

I am desolate.

I have heard about this kind of thing happening to other people, but never to me, a super-fine journalist for lo these many years. I must say that I am less than psyched to finally be included in this rarefied group. While I know that if I were a real pro, I would just go back to the grindstone and start over from scratch without even mentioning anything about it, I think it’s important for me to note at this point that I want my mommy.

I had started with a section about how Phoebe Snow should be released from whatever pact she had made with the devil that required her to sing every horrible pop song in history for every commercial on tv. I had pointed out that the latest had been "Summer Breeze" by Seals and Crofts and duly noted how much I’d hated that one in particular, briefly digressing about what a cultural whirlwind I am and about how much I wished my wife, the admittedly adorable Mrs. Kelp, had been (or was still) really rich, and how much fun it might be to marry a rich old broad for her money.

Then I made a number of really incisive comments about a swell new (ten piece) ska band called Skavoovie and the Epitones who are playing at the Beachcomber this Saturday afternoon at 4:30; I covered how surprised I was to hear a new (especially American) ska band that I really liked, especially in view of the fact that as much as I love ska, I really thought there had only been two great ska bands ever -the Skatalites and the Specials (though acknowledging that other great bands like the Clash and the Beatles had used ska as a point of departure).

Then I reported my discovery of the fact that the first true ska record was made in the forties by a bunch of white guys from Indiana called the Hoosier Hot Shots (who apparently featured the only serious concert-quality slide whistle-ist it has ever been my "pleasure" to hear), whose recording of "One-Eyed Sam" had all the specifics of the ska formula down about a decade before ska was thought to have been invented (though apparently it was just a coincidence; they only did one song that sounded like that, and somehow I can’t picture a bunch of Jamaicans in the fifties with an underground fixation for the Hoosier Hot Shots).

I briefly acknowledged the wife’s part in the invention of music in general; and then I got back to Skavoovie and Co., and what made them so much more interesting than the gigantic glut of modern ska bands (particularly domestic ones); which is basically a jazz approach (a la the original Skatalites) instead of a rock approach, and their obvious esteem for the Skatalites’ legendary rhythm section (Lloyds Brevet and Knibbs on bass and drums), nicely exemplified by the work of their drummer Benny Herson on the track "The Plague" from their fine new CD "Ripe" (Moon Ska). I was shocked to be listening to a new ska band and liking it

Of course, I said this all a lot better the first time.

I went on to praise the band’s excellent taste in covers (Ellington’s "Blip Blip" and Joe Liggins’ "Drunk"), the fine detail of their chord voicings and arrangements (especially on "Phobus", my favorite track), their considerable energy, and their youth and lack of (music) schooling (their oldest -and most recent -member, Dan Neely, is only 23, and most of the band are un-schooled, despite appearances to the contrary); I also marveled at Neely’s patience as he graciously fielded kwery after kwery, maintaining his composure despite his obviously having recently spent too much time in a shark-skin suit on a school bus with bad suspension in Texas and Oklahoma with nine other guys in shark-skin suits.

These guys sound like they’re going to be a lot of fun live, so I’m going this Saturday. I’m trying to talk my wife into it on the grounds that we need to get there early for pianist/singer Marcia Ball, who takes the same stage that night for what I assume is her Cape Cod debut. If you’ve spent a lot of your life in barrooms all across the country, you may’ve noticed that Ms. Ball has become one of the south’s most beloved musical emissaries; then again, you should hear what she says about you.

Another event of interest this weekend is my friend Tim Dickey’s annual concert at the Wellfleet congregational church on Sunday, July 13 at 8pm. This year it’s entitled "Back to Bluegrass", which Tim tells me is a way of referring to the fact that this year, he will not be performing any Bach. All I can say is, this guy Bach must really be something if Tim’s going that far out of his way not to perform him. He’ll be joined this year by Ed Sheridan, Julie Wanamaker, Chris Miner, Phil Neighbors, Pierre Beauregard, and the Fermatta Opera Group directed by Richard Busch, performing a smorgasbord of bluegrass, jazz, and western swing.