The People I Met Last Night

Lyle Lovett played the first concert of the Carolina Performing Arts Series 2006/2007 season last night at UNC's Memorial Hall. As usual, I was there, row R, seat 15.

The show was great. Lyle and his Large Band drifted from big band, to blues, to jazz, to gospel, to bluegrass, to straight honky tonk throughout the evening. The highlights included his performance of "Since The Last Time" - "I went to a funeral. Lord it made me happy seeing all those people I ain't seen since the last time somebody died." - and his witty on-stage banter. (I rank him behind only Jeff Tweedy of Wilco in terms of on-stange commentary.)

Someone asked me to describe Lyle Lovett's music earlier this week and I offered "American". Having seen him in concert, I can't think of a more appropriate description. Smart music, smart guy.

The concert was great, but the evening didn't truly kick into gear until the after-party at the Carolina Inn. My wife booked a honky-tonk-garage-country-punk band called Hank Sinatra to play the party. Seeing those guys play to a crowd of old people was hilarious. Lots of wide-eyed old people trying to digest music that was probably a little grittier - and louder - than they were accustomed to. However, once the alcohol started flowing and the band turned it down from "11" to "8", all of the big money donors started dancing and the night went well.

Hank Sinatra brought Phil Lee along to sit-in. Phil is a Durham native, a seen-it-all veteran of the music scene, and a heckuva nice guy. Once the party shut down, I spent some time chatting with Phil while the band loaded out. He had some interesting anecdotes about his days in Chapel Hill in the 60s and his side job as a truck driver.

Kelly and I traded Phil a Memorial Hall bolo tie for a copy of his latest record, "You Should Have Known Me Then" - I highly recommend it. It features tracks with Gilian Welch and members (and ex-members) of Wilco.

After we closed down the Carolina Inn, we had to hoof it back to Memorial Hall to pick up a few things. Lyle Lovett's crew was still loading out and Lyle was hanging around the parking lot. I positioned myself between Lyle and the bus and waited until he made his way over.

He walked right up to me and I introduced myself and Kelly. He did likewise and was quite friendly through the course of our 5 minute exchange. One of his crew members had a minor heart attack during load-in earlier in the day, so we spoke briefly about the status of his friend.

(It wasn't until he walked away that I started hyperventilating - both because I was excited to have met such a great musician and to have shaken a hand that has touched Julia Roberts.)

I've met a number of famous - and semi-famous - people through Kelly's involvement at Memorial Hall. None have been as engaging and friendly as Phil Lee and Lyle Lovett - except for maybe Dean Smith. (Which isn't surprising - one should expect God himself to be both friendly and engaging.)

Nickel Creek plays on Tuesday. Here's to hoping my good luck continues...

Indisputable, Factual Reasons to Hate Aerosmith

Editor's Note: On November 9, 2004, a few Brontos (Ed, Chaz, and Joe) and I had a passionate (and pointless conversation) about Aerosmith's place in the rock and roll pantheon. I sent the following email that afternoon to sum up what I belive to be an air-tight case for Aerosmith's permanent placement on the rock and roll "B" list.
Thanks to Ed for reminding me of this conversation today.

To continue this afternoon's argument, here are some indisputable, factual reasons to hate Aerosmith:

- They wrote a song entitled "Eat The Rich." Ironic?

- The trilogy of suck - "Crying", "Amazing", and that song from the movie "Armageddon." Real rock bands don't do trite power ballads, especially trite power ballads that soundtrack God-awful movies.

- They released a greatest hits album in 1980. This is more or less a symbolic end to all musical creativity. Once a band releases a "greatest hits", they might as well stop releasing new music.

- Joey Kramer is a less-than-average drummer.

- From http://allmusic.com - "Three years later (2001), Aerosmith strutted their stuff on the halftime special on CBS with the likes of Mary J. Blige, Nelly, *N Sync, and Britney Spears. "Birds of a feather" if you ask me...

- Name 3 important Aerosmith albums from their "prime". That's right - you can't. (Because there aren't any, besides "Toys in the Attic") They don't produce albums - they produce singles. Stones, Beatles, Dylan, Led Zep, Who, Springsteen, etc. all, in the peak of their career, produced strings of entire albums full of good music.

Let's not kid ourselves - Aerosmith is a popular band from the 70s and 80s, but by no means are they "classic", or even "important".

Redeeming qualities:

  • Steven Tyler begat Liv Tyler.

  • That video with Liv Tyler and whats-her-name from the movie "Clueless".

  • "Dude Looks Like A Lady" - while an incredibly stupid song - was perfect for the "Mrs. Doubtfire" soundtrack.

  • Joe Perry is a good guitarist.


2006 Update

They still suck:

  • The 2006 July 4th concert with the Boston Pops. There isn't a person on Earth that can convince me that this crap-tastic performance "rocks" or even deserved to be filmed for posterity. If the introduction from Dr. Phil (Dr. Phil!) or the fact that Aerosmith let big-money co-opt their "music" for patriotic propaganda doesn't do it for you, then just watch until the "scream" at the 2:12 mark.

  • Tom Hamilton, the bass player, looks like Dauber from the TV show "Coach".

  • I heard "Love In An Elevator" today on the radio. God - please make it stop.


Redeeming Qualities:

  • They appeared in a cool Saturday Night Live Wayne's World skit. "Aerosmith is in my breakfast nook! Aerosmith is sitting in my nook where I eat my Nut and Honey Crunch every morning."

The Gram Parsons Manifesto

I satisfied 2 burning obsessions today.

After a lifetime of hope and want, I finally got my first pair of Air Jordans. What a great feeling! Opening the box and lacing them up was like the first day of school, the first day of basketball practice, and tip-off at the Dean Dome all rolled into one. I always wanted a pair as a youngster, but my folks never had the cash to pay $100 for a pair of shoes, especially knowing that I would destroy them and/or outgrow them in 6 months.

I'll let this soak in for a bit and will then pen a post outlining the psyche of a 26 year old man so easily excited by Nike Air Jordan basketball shoes.

If getting a pair of iconic basketball shoes was already enough, Netflix sent me the new Gram Parsons documentary, "Fallen Angel". (I watched the film while wearing my new Jordans, eating leftover Pepper's pizza, and drinking a PBR in a can. Truly a transcendental hour and a half.)

Gram Parsons was a musician from the late 60s and early 70s that, in a sense, defined a genre of music. Many call it "alternative country" or "country rock". Gram described it as "Cosmic American Music". (Note the tag line on myblog.) Whatever you want to call it, I think he made some of the best music ever recorded.


His music is timeless and his story is fascinating. Some of the highlights:

  • His father was named Coon Dog Conner. I'm not making this up.

  • His mother's family ran a huge citrus plantation in Florida. Gram grew up with everything he could ever want, but had a pretty screwed up family life. (Coon Dog committed suicide, leaving a note that supposedly said only "I love you Gram".)

  • He met Elvis as a 10 year old.

  • Throughout his career, he lived off of his substantial trust fund. He would show up in a limo to play a gig in front of 15 people.

  • Gram went to Harvard to escape the South and start his music career. He sent numerous heartfelt letters to his sister, expressing his love and such. Given the family situation, he very much felt like the family protector, especially the protector of his sister. (QuentinCompson anyone?)

  • Gram played with the Byrds. He was the "country" influence behind "Sweetheart of the Rodeo" - the original alt-country record.

  • Gram ditched the Byrds to hang with Keith Richards and the Stones. Gram was supposedly the "country" influence behind "Exile On Main Street" - the best Stones album far and away. The Stones also let Gram record "Wild Horses" for "Burrito Deluxe" before they recorded it for "Sticky Fingers".

  • He gave Emmylou Harris her big break as a back up singer on his solo albums "GP" and "Grievous Angel".

  • He recorded his solo albums with Elvis' band.


As the story too often goes, Gram lived a reckless life and died at 26 from a drug/alcohol overdose. The story that follows his death is the stuff of rock and roll legend. If you don't know it already,Google it or, better yet, watch the documentary. This post is long enough and I haven't even started to bring it home.

Why write all of this? For one, the world needs to know about Gram Parsons. If I had to pick between Gram Parsons and Netflix, I would pick Gram Parsons. If Nike made Air Parsons, I would own every pair.

For two, of all of the "tragic rock star deaths", I think his is one of the most unfortunate. He was making music that no one else was making at the time. The fact that his story and his music passes through The Byrds, The Stones, Emmylou Harris, and, indirectly, The Eagles speaks to the scope of his influence.

And he did all of this before he died at 26! In my opinion, he should be mentioned in the same breath as Jimi Hendrix as someone that God put on the Earth for the sole purpose of defining a musical moment.

If he doesn't die at 26, I say he ends up being in the Johnny Cash, Bob Dylan, Bruce Springsteen conversation as folk artist that embodies all that is beautiful and true in American music.