I've got a little linkage for you to check out. It's a band I found on Digg (I'm an obsessive digger) called Pomplamoose. They make really cool music, but the videos that accompany their songs are great because they're not lip-synced. What shows up on the screen is exactly what you're hearing. It's sort of a neat introspective into recording and the songs are fun. Anyway, here's a link to one of their videos.
Yesterday was a long day of driving. Although our trip through North Alabama on backroads was pleasant and a short (to us) drive back to Starkville. We had the proper soundtrack for a Sunday drive in N. Alabama with the Drive-By Truckers providing the tunes. I stuck my head out the window to get some fresh air while driving through Detroit, Alabama and my hat blew off. I was turning around and this dog came running out of a nearby yard and was heading for my favorite ball cap so I had to beat him to what he thought was going to be a snack. I got my good old John Deere cap back so all is right with the world.
It's great spending a morning back at home and rest up after a stretch out on the road. I'm drinking coffee out of my favorite mug and watching the frost burn off the pastures around the house. I don't even have any grass around my apartment in Starkville, strange for a country boy.
We played with a local band from Huntsville Saturday night, their name sort of escapes me at this point—they were nice enough good ol' boys though. Still, I witnessed something I never thought I'd ever see in my life watching these guys play. First, they dedicated their set in honor of Lynyrd Skynyrd's piano player Billy Powell, who recently passed away. Their opening song was a Skynyrd tune, so was their second and third. Actually, their entire set was Skynyrd covers, all 45 minutes of it. The guys as a band were tight, but talk about a lack of originality points. Despite this, they did exercise some restraint and didn't play "Free Bird," but I think that's offset by the fact they played nearly every popular song that Skynyrd had. Only in Alabama ...
Oh, there was a black male erotice review taking place in the building next door to where our gig was. The entire night large groups of black ladies walked into the building we were playing in by mistake. I wonder if they thought our band was some sort of stripper gimmick and we'd start playing "Pour Some Sugar on Me" and start getting down to our skivvies. They would pause and hang out for a second to make sure no male strippers popped out before realizing they were in the wrong building. You can't make this up.
I've had the Isbell album playing while I was working on the blog. At first listen, I highly recommend it. Jason Isbell and the 400 Unit — "Seven Mile Island"
Well, it will be a slow week this week, just hanging around trying to stay busy before we head to the Mississippi Delta for some gigs there this weekend. I love playing in the Delta ... the drive over there itself gets me amped up to play. It's the birthplace of American music and it does a Mississippi boy/musician good to put his boots on that Delta soil. If you were a painter you'd want to visit the Louvre, being a Mississippian and musician and dropping down off those Loess Hills into that flatland full off cotton, soybeans and rice is soul filling. It's either that or indigestion from the truck stop corndog that you bought in Winona at the intersection of Interstate 55 and Highway 82.
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