Da Goddess

LD and I had a long wait for my prescriptions and we spent the time listening to one of my favorite CDs ever — Zucchero & Co. The above song is the last on the album and it’s gorgeous beyond belief on a real stereo. It reaches places inside you that you didn’t even know existed. The one video I’d love to share, doesn’t really exist. But the song is available on YouTube, just not with actual footage of John Lee Hooker and Zucchero. There is a live version, though, with JLH’s vocals added in.

This was the first song I’d heard from the album and it laid me flat. I still get goosebumps when I hear it. It’s as though each note is meant to wring out every last bit of pain from you. It’s visceral. “I Lay Down” is the sort of song you listen to over and over again. And when you’ve purged yourself of whatever needs purging, you celebrate.

The version of “Diavolo in Me” on the album with Solomon Burke is awesome, but there’s nothing like that available on YouTube. Regardless, this is the sort of song that makes you dance. It simply compels you to do so. As LD says, “it’s like something out of the Blues Brothers”, and he’s not entirely wrong in that comparison. In fact, Zucchero joined Dan Aykroyd and Jim Belushi (as the Blues Brothers) on stage during a party for the late John Belushi in 1995. Just close your eyes and imagine the church scene when Jake is moved by the preacher, and well…you get the idea.

I could go on and on for hours about this album, but really it’s the sort of experience one needs to have for oneself. I thought I’d done a review of it years ago, but apparently it never made it online. It’s likely sitting in a file on a dead computer. Anyhow, the whole CD is chuck full o’ music that will make you take a step back and re-examine your idea of music. Zucchero collaborates with just about everyone under the sun, from B.B. King to Sting to Miles Davis, from Macy Gray to Luciano Pavarotti and Andrea Bocelli, from Eric Clapton to Paul Young (of “Every Time You Go Away” fame), Dolores O’Riordan (of the Cranberries), and artists who aren’t familiar to most Americans, artists like Mana and Cheb Mami. This is the perfect introduction to them and I heartily recommend you head over to YouTube, type in some of those names, and settle in for a special treat.

Zucchero may be relatively unknown in this country, but that doesn’t mean he’s destined to remain that way. I’m only sorry I hadn’t written about him before. While you’re over on YouTube, check out his performance in the to Freddie Mercury.

I’m so glad I found my CD. I’ve thought of it many times over the last few years, wondering where it’d run off to and lamenting the fact that my other computer had died, taking the music with it. I’d camped out on YouTube and added all the Zucchero vids I could into my favorites, even creating a special category just for him. I know most of you think of me as blues obsessed…and I am…but first and foremost is my love for good music — Period. And Zucchero delivers. Go enjoy.

I wrote this a few months back when I got a preview copy of the disc. I shared the review with only one person. But upon reading it, and after reading one too many “this CD is great!” reviews on other sites, I just gotta post it.

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Hundreds of artists release CDs every month. This is one of them.

For her sophomoric CD, no typo there, Cee Cee James has fallen victim to the problem that plagues too many self-produced albums: the inability to self-edit. You see, this CD is the perfect example of why someone else should oversee a “fair” performer’s work. A good producer will call you on it when you try to throw in everything AND the kitchen sink.

Low Down Where the Snakes Crawl has such potential, but it quickly falls apart halfway through the first song (title track), which, at 8+ minutes long, could use a serious cut in length. Truthfully, I liked the tune until I hit that midpoint and then it became a real battle of self-control to keep from hitting the “Next” button on the stereo. Instead, I did my non-English speaking neighbor’s taxes. Long form. Upon completion of those financials, I continued to struggle against that desire to fast forward. Thankfully, the song ended and I was able to enjoy the second tune “Black Raven”.

Everything after track two is a painful blur. All I could think of was practically any episode of Project Runway and Tim Gunn saying, “that’s a lot of look on that outfit”. Yes, it’s almost as if James is a recent fashion school grad who’s intent on showing off every single trick she learned in school on ONE outfit. The overall effect is too many influences converging into a hodge podge of a gloppy mess. You don’t know where to look, can’t focus on what you’re hearing, nor can you fully appreciate what she’s trying to do because there’s simply way too much going on. That ain’t good. She rambles and roams and warbles and moans a little too long about everything.

Some songs suffer from what appears to be a very conscious effort to be a TV show soundtrack cut. Watered down, listless, and just moody enough to be played in the background while the real action is happening. In fact, I dare say that this is probably the best way to listen to the CD — to actually NOT listen. Or at least not listen too closely. Anything else and you’d find yourself amongst lyrics the likes of which you’re bound to find in the average teenager’s diary.

If you’re a fan of Cee Cee James, this may work for you. If you’re new to te Cee Cee James universe, you may want to see if you can book a return flight to earth poste haste. Really, you don’t want to be stuck here long.

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Please note that I stayed away from the clichéd comparison to Janis Joplin (which James — and most female blues artists — painfully strains to make happen). Mostly, I wanted to spare the Joplin legacy.

And there we have it. A CD review that will never be published anywhere but here.

Heard this on the radio the other day and couldn’t help but crank it up. I bopped along in the car, thoroughly enjoying the music. Made my therapy session a good one. Oh, and by the way, they added new exercises to my session, which means I’m progressing well. On the other hand, the insurance company sucks; they’re already pushing for an evaluation. Whatever. Time to rock this one out, people!

Happy Monday, everyone!

Dads are an interesting bunch, aren’t they? When you’re really young, they’re superheroes. As you get a little older, they’re heroes — just not as super. Then you become a teen and you think they don’t know anything. Somewhere along the way, you grow up and find yourself in need of advice and suddenly you turn to your dad because you figure he knows a little something about life.

I wish I could say that I always thought my dad was the best guy in the world. I’d be lying though. I was a typical kid and wasn’t exactly the most well-behaved during my teens, which caused plenty of friction in my family. However, I have to admit there were a few times when my dad really surprised me.

When I got caught by the cops sitting in a parked car with an open beer in my hand as a teenager, instead of freaking out, my dad said (in my defense), “it’s not like she was driving. And the police did say there was maybe only a sip taken out of it.” My mom was upset, but my dad kept his cool.

After a car accident (again, when I was a teen), my dad was the one who told me, “a car can be replaced; you can’t.” Sure, I didn’t drive again for a while, yet when it was time, he made me get behind the wheel and regain my confidence.

I’ve realized more and more over the last couple of years just how much more patience my dad had than I gave him credit for when I was younger. There was plenty of yelling, but there were plenty of times when there wasn’t. I don’t know how he managed to keep from throttling us kids. He managed…however he did it, he managed.

And now he’s a grandfather. What a grandfather he’s turned out to be, too. When Mojo was five years old, my dad’s 1966 Mustang (he’s only the second owner and still as the original window sticker) was declared to be Mo’s. They have a fun relationship, at times, reminiscent of the I had with him, but without all the pressure and expectations. Mojo’s really the reason my dad shines as he does. She’s everything his own daughters were, weren’t, might’ve, could’ve, and should’ve been in one person. She brought us all closer as a family and she especially brought my dad and I closer. I saw a different side to him, a side eager to please and amuse a child. That reminded me of those early years I had with him. They were similar, but not the same. So in a way, I got to eavesdrop my way back into a bit of my childhood whenever they were together.

Then LD came along and this young man brought out a different side of my father. He talked to my son like one would talk to a boy, but it was with a soft gentleness that I think he learned from granddadding Mojo. Still, there’s enough of a difference to the way they interact that says volumes about how they interact. Their relationship is different, as it should be. I see a man who opens up to this young man of mine and shares stories of his life, stories I never heard. Dad brings out the inquisitive side of my boy and I’m proud of what they come up with. There’s genuine encouragement there. And I know when I get stuck in the “but I’m a mom! How am I supposed to explain that to him, Dad?” “With facts, patience, and questions. Just like you would if you were telling a patient in your hospital. Take your time. He’ll listen. He’s a better listener than you were, have some faith in yourself. You can do this. It’s not really that much harder than it was with Mojo, so just roll with it.” And I do.

Over the years, I’ve learned a lot about my dad. I learned about what drove him to be the man he is today, to act as he had in the past, to respond as he responded, and to learn that I was still learning from him.

That’s pretty much what you want from a father, isn’t it? To learn that there’s still more to learn from him! Whether you’re a son or daughter, he has something to teach you. Lessons aren’t always easy. And they don’t always fit into your life the way you want them to, but he’s sharing and that’s pretty amazing, don’t you think? He could have walked away and left you to figure it all on your own, but he didn’t.

I wish I had a brand new old car to give my dad for Father’s day. Or could write him a book that would guarantee to make him laugh. Or to sing him a song guaranteed to bring tears to his eyes. Oh wait…I think I did that last one. My song, or songs, are my children. And they do bring tears to his eyes, to all of our eyes. That’s so much better than just showing up alone with a card.

I love you, Dad. I’m not the brightest kid. I’m not the richest kid. I’m not the greatest kid; I’m far from your favorite kid most of the time. But I am the kid with kids. And that makes our relationship special.

I love you. I hope you have an amazing day, Dad. Really. It’s summer and we’re all here and accounted for. We all must have been doing something right. And we all love you.

Roles have often changed over the year, but we’re still all here. And mostly, we’re reading an or two from this book on fatherhood. There, buried beneath other words and activities are words that mean everything to us. Hidden messages in books. Who’d have thought that? It’s a good way to compare stories and give you something to talk about. Doesn’t matter how we get to the talking, at least we’re talking. There’s lots to talk about, too.

Now, while I’m at it, I’d just like to say, I’m glad you’re my dad.

And because you’re mine, I walk the line.

I secretly like Don’t Forget The Lyrics.

The woman who’s singing for half a mil was stuck on “Fly Like An Eagle”. I totally know this song! I know almost all the songs on the show. I have one of those minds…like Rainman…I know lyrics. For more songs than I should. And had I been this gal’s friend, I could have helped her win. Silly her.

If I could sing, I’d totally go on the show. But I can’t. So I won’t. I don’t even sing for people if I’m drunk (which happens once every two or three years), so you’re all safe. But I totally know the lyrics for way too many tunes.

Maybe I should take voice lessons.

In what seemed like a rather typical, post about an unfortunate boob and an even more unfortunate bow, I ended up here.

I don’t need to go there. Or there. Or even there. I just don’t.

Just assume that I arrived sober and to dance.

I can’t even begin to tell you how much I loved the CD that song is from. It was one of my earlier CD purchases, too.

I’ll go sit quietly in the corner while you ponder why you even still speak to me.

Would this have been a better choice?

I know, I know. There’s so much you don’t know about me. Baffling, isn’t it?

One of my favorite versions of song, aside from the original singer/songwriter. Not saying who or what song here…I want you to be pleasantly surprised. I think it’s the perfect way to start a weekend.

Gearing up for a busy weekend that will be followed by a busy week. Little Dude gets out of school next Thursday and I can’t wait! This summer’s schedule is already jam packed with events — some just for me, some for him, some as family time. I don’t know how we’re going to do everything we want to do in such a short time. Whatever happened to having three months off from school?

Anyhow, I hope you’re all having a good day.

Ever wanted to get a collection of blues tunes that rock, I mean, really rock, so that you had a little pick-me-up to get you through the day? Got the perfect solution for you.

for 14 ass kickin’ tunes that’ll make your day rock ‘n’ roll from start to finish!

You know me, I don’t pimp product here for cash, so this music must be something special. It is. Two songs from my favorite heavy blues purveyor (The Stoney Curtis Band!) are included here. Not only that, but Vdelli’s in the house. And then there’s the Alex Dixon Band. Alex Dixon, for those of you who know a little blues history, is the grandson of Willie Dixon and Willie’s a family favorite. Alex continues a great tradition.

Blues artists don’t have many ways to get their songs out to the people, so it falls largely on the Internet stations to get the music played. All the artists on this CD have given their authorization to be included on this compilation. It’s good exposure for them, good for the station (bellyup4blues.com), and it’s good for you!

For $10.99, don’t you want to check it out?

What? You need a bit of a teaser to get you to commit? Fine.

Enjoy: “My Suspicious Mind” by the Alex Dixon Band.

Rock your soul to a happier place, people! It’s good for you. Better than vegetables!

I have three silhouettes I’m considering for this week’s iHeartFaces challenge. Does a dragon’s face made of wood count, I wonder? It’s a valid question. Somehow I don’t think a wooden face will get the a-okay, so I continued to look through photos from Death Valley, various excursions around town, and finally settled on my favorite silhouette of all: Ronnie Baker Brooks.

This particular image means a lot to me. First, Ronnie’s one of the sweetest guys in the world. Second, he’s cute. Majorly cute. Third, he’s an incredible musician, which he displayed that evening as he got behind the bar (guitar behind his back and still being played — by him! No stunt hands or helpers), mixed himself a rum and diet coke, and then drank it through a straw in one long sip…ALL WHILE PLAYING. Fourth, the night this was taken was just after Rob died and Ronnie played a couple of songs that hit deep, let me cry, and then cheered me up. Fifth, after hearing that, he just hugged me good and long. Sixth, that bar was just perfect as a backdrop.

Yeah, if that’s not a good enough reason to post this photo, I don’t know what is.

Note: Taken with my old Olympus 3.2mp and basically no post processing was done.

Go have a look at other entries and perhaps find yourself some inspiration in there.

(Part I is a bit lost somewhere back a couple years.)

Anyhow, Rick Estrin and the Nightcats also performed at Doheny Blues Festival. I had to take a shot at getting close to the stage for a few photos. Rick saw me and winked. I giggled. (I swear, I’m such a child sometimes.) Later, when I ran into him he said, “Hey, Angel, how you doin’ these days?” That’s what he calls me. I let him. It amuses us both. I doubt he remembers my real name or even the number of times we’ve met. Doesn’t matter. We both laugh.

That’s pretty much a standard rule I have with any of the artists. They can call me whatever name they like as long as it’s something nice. They don’t have to remember my true name. Or that we’ve met once, twice, sixteen, or thirty times. For the most part, blues artists are wonderfully kind and respectful and I try my best to present them in a good light because of this.

Not me, Elvin Bishop.

I just fooled around by running over to see three minutes of his show, take four photos, run back to another stage and take 100 photos, only to run into Elvin at the festival booth doing autographs. I had nothing for him to sign, but I did shake his hand and thank him for music I’ve grown up loving.

Angels come in all shapes and forms. Some are more potent than others. Some are mere spectres of the past. And some are simply dreams we can’t quite reach. A lot like ghosts, which I don’t consider bad. But it’s up to us to keep angels as they are and not allow them to turn dark (I hesitate to use the word “demon” because of that blasted movie in theaters at the moment, but if I must, well, just try to keep up and don’t make me go there). In other words, believe in your angels and don’t let their presence throw you into a tailspin. They’re here to help.

While chose one Stevie Nicks angel tune, I immediately thought of another, from the Tusk album, simply called “Angel“. Of course, that reminded me of her “Beautiful Child“, which, to me, is about longing and that one relationship that somehow takes you from the little girl love to real love, or what you hope is real love. (It reduces me to tears nearly every time.) I somehow always build a story about the tune in that it’s really about Stevie and Lindsey, or was it really about Stevie and Mick? It was just as confusing to me as my own first love was and how every relationship can be. Heartachingly maddening. And yet, you just keep seeking, reaching, trying because that’s what we humans do.

I guess it’s no wonder that yesterday’s haiku touched on this theme. (Oh, you don’t know about those? That’s okay. It’s just something I do.) And so, without shame, I copy myself and give you the haiku from yesterday to fulfill Deb’s fiendish assignment:

As your lips near mine
My brain goes into meltdown
Tongue tied wordless want

I think we’ve all pretty much been there at one time or another, no? And it was only in writing this post that I realized the first line of the haiku sounds remarkably like part of “Beautiful Child”.

To my haiku dealer: damn you! It’s the new crack. To Deb: damn you! Same thing with PROMPTs! And for whoever can find me the entire Buckingham Nicks album on CD plus “Gold & Braid”, “Smiling Islands”, “Garbo”, and two minutes with Stevie Nicks? I will marry you.

It’s very hard for me to start writing anything related to Stevie Nicks or Fleetwood Mac because one word can easily become 7,000. And that’s a conservative estimate. All songs are connected for me. “Beautiful Child” connects seamlessly (in my mind) to “When I See You Again” (from Tango in the Night), which then has a story (and an edit from me — I heard that song take different form as it was being sung). And that story ultimately leads elsewhere. Like the time I could have sworn I saw Mick Fleetwood at Burger King in LAX. So, please believe me when I say y’all got off easily this time.