One of my favorite parts of “Bootlegged at the Big Top” is when I forget to go to the chorus of “How Many Miles,” and instead dive right into the bridge. The way you hear the band shift gears, catch me, and then drive on is the very reason that you get that little speech from me at most shows, the one where I get into the difference between MUSICIANS and Guy Who Knows Some Chords. Thank you, Long Beds!
Thanks for all the “Bootlegged” orders, folks. It’s a lo-fi and on-the-fly live recording of a show the Long Beds and I did at the Big Top. Includes some stories in between songs including the one about me drawing blood from Justin Vernon (Bon Iver) on behalf of Wayne Coyne (Flaming Lips) because, I…I…well, sometimes you gotta help the neighbors.
It has been my privilege to share the stage with Mary Cutrufello and try to hang on as she kicks our Long Beds shows into high gear with her guitar. Now I’m happy to announce she has new music out–just click here.
I’m always ready to hear what Mary Cutrufello has to sing or say. Yale? Check. Texas roadhouse chops? Check. Telecaster built for the road? Check. Can back a FedEx truck anywhere you need it using nothin’ but the mirrors? Check.
The Long Beds and I snuck across the border last November and laid a little harmony down with Mary Cutrufello, currently constructing her new album. Hear a Long Beds snippet here: http://t.co/AyMFUUeyKW
This new stuff suffers from overgrooming. Even the redneckiest tunes ring tinny. One sometimes fears the lyrics of the latest busted-heart song were transposed from a marriage encounter handbook. It isn’t that today’s superstars aren’t talented and hardworking. It’s just that their way of doing things has passed me by. I look at the pretty cowboy on the Jumbotron and think, It is one thing to polish your craft, it is quite another to wax your abs. Recipe for the real deal: Combine two parts busted heart with one part busted knuckles, sprinkle with cheap trucker speed and crushed Valium to taste, and marinate in hard luck and leaky motor oil. Stir in Genesis and Revelation, add a dash of hope, and finish off while being forcibly evicted from a hotel bar. Hello, Tanya Tucker.