JoshCast #30 - What Sin Replaces Love

I just watched a mini-documentary called "September" (see this YouTube clip) about the genesis of Ryan Adams & The Cardinals -- probably the most recent addition to my list of personal all-time-greats. (See especially: Cold Roses) Their genius is multi-layered: alt-country instrumentation, a quality I call "listenability", and a top-notch (if idiosyncratic) front man in Ryan Adams.

(Great example of the above, the single "Let It Ride".)


In particular, I'm endlessly enamored by his way with words. He's no stranger to heart-wrenching lyrics ("See her smilin' at him / That used to be me / And I could find her in a thunderstorm / Just be the way that the rain would fall"). But it's the following words from the aforementioned documentary that reveal the apparent ease with which his musical talents translate from his brain to your speakers:

"If you sit and [mess] around with a guitar for longer than 30 minutes, you might accidentally run into a couple of chords that sound like a song. As soon as I get on to something like that, I'm like 'Aw, shit,' and I have to take it where it's going. And then I feel really satisfied, like I did something today.

"Then I go out and I get drunk. It's great."

I wish it was that easy for me.

Anyway, Adams's edgier alter-ego shows up in the following unreleased track. Very 70s rocksy and bluesy (right up my alley), and a bit of a departure from his alt-country creations with The Cardinals. Peel back the cheesy MTV-style intro and the embellished theatrics, and you get some great stuff:

Coach Skinner

A 77-year-old basketball coach died today after a hard-fought bout with Alzheimer's disease. A tragedy, for sure. But his name will live on...it will be printed on music festival posters, announced enthusiastically by classic rock radio disc jockeys, and adored by onlookers at the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.

Coach Skinner wasn't the most popular guy at Robert E. Lee High School in Jacksonville, Florida, during the sixties. He sported a flat-top haircut, and apparently wanted all of his male students to do the same. One budding guitarist in particular, named Gary Rossington, protested the coach's policies by naming the future greatest-Southern-rock-band-ever after him.

Now that's revenge.

Yes, as you no doubt figured out by now, the Coach's first name was Leonard. Leonard Skinner. I'm guessing the coach's oppressive tactics earned him the nickname Leonard Skinnerd, which eventually the band reshuffled to form their final name, Lynyrd Skynyrd.

But oh, the fun didn't stop there. According to this ABC News story:

"[Skinner] also got a second helping of fame after he started selling property. A lawn sign featuring his name and telephone number appeared among the illustrations on their third album, 1975's Nuthin' Fancy. He was soon inundated with thousands of telephone calls from around the world at all hours of the day and night..."

Interesting story. And so, farewell Coach Skinner. Fly high, free bird.

The Power of Music

...demonstrated poignantly in the following interview of Colonel Jack Leroy Tooler (or Tuler?). If you have two minutes to spare today, spend them on this:



Source: Lost At E Minor

JoshCast #29 - I Just Don't Know What To Do With Myself

It may just be my imagination, but the perception of Jack White many people have seems to be that fans only follow him because, somewhere, someone several years ago said it was cool to follow him. Probably true in some circumstances -- and some of you may accuse me of the same crime. But I maintain that my fandom is driven by his insistence to constantly try new genres, performing more than adequately in each and every environment.

First, it was blues-rock and The White Stripes. Mix in some folk/country influences and you get The Raconteurs. Throw in a little darkness and Alison Mosshart and you get his more recent project, The Dead Weather. Then, his acting debut in Walk Hard: The Dewey Cox Story where he portrays Elvis Presley. Which brings us to his latest collaboration: a single with -- of all people -- Conan O'Brien??

Keeps you guessing, that's for sure.

One of his first pleasant surprises as 50% of The White Stripes was a cover of Burt Bacharach's 1962 single "I Just Don't Know What To Do With Myself" from 2003's Elephant. Interesting cover...obviously a little rougher around the edges than the original. A few more power chords and such. Love the finale starting about 2:00...