So it's been a few days since I've written anything, but I have some good reasons:
1. Lately, I haven't felt all that articulate.
2. I've been out of town since yesterday. To be specific, I was in Toronto for Bob Dylan's third concert there in as many nights. Oh, did I have a time. After a tongue-in-cheek intro over the PA (Ladies and Gentlemen, please welcome the poet-laureate of rock n' roll!!!) Bob ambled onto the stage clad in Opry-style regalia, complete with a leviticusly deuteronomous lunch-box Stetson hat and neatly manicured mustache. He spent the next two hours hunched over a keyboard on the left side of the stage, barking and lunging at the microphone like a 62 year-old velociraptor. These days, Bob often twists and turns his songs in concert so that they're nearly unrecognizable, but his version of "Shooting Star" retained it's beauty, while the rendition of "Honest With Me" that he uncorked near the end of his set singed my eyebrows. The apex of the evening was "Like a Rolling Stone," which, if you haven't heard, is officially the second greatest song of all time ('tis a close second to "Gimmie Shelter").
While in Toronto, I managed to slip over to the 12th Fret, quite possibly the best music store in Ontario that sells rootsy instruments with funny names ("Bandola"). The place was amazing - next time I'll have to bring a towel to wipe up the drool. Anyways, I walked out of the store the owner of a new guitar - a square neck resonator (also inaccurately known as a "Dobro"). To hear what one sounds like in competent hands, listen to Jerry Douglas (who's currently employed in Allison Krauss' Union Station), or Greg Leisz.
1. Lately, I haven't felt all that articulate.
2. I've been out of town since yesterday. To be specific, I was in Toronto for Bob Dylan's third concert there in as many nights. Oh, did I have a time. After a tongue-in-cheek intro over the PA (Ladies and Gentlemen, please welcome the poet-laureate of rock n' roll!!!) Bob ambled onto the stage clad in Opry-style regalia, complete with a leviticusly deuteronomous lunch-box Stetson hat and neatly manicured mustache. He spent the next two hours hunched over a keyboard on the left side of the stage, barking and lunging at the microphone like a 62 year-old velociraptor. These days, Bob often twists and turns his songs in concert so that they're nearly unrecognizable, but his version of "Shooting Star" retained it's beauty, while the rendition of "Honest With Me" that he uncorked near the end of his set singed my eyebrows. The apex of the evening was "Like a Rolling Stone," which, if you haven't heard, is officially the second greatest song of all time ('tis a close second to "Gimmie Shelter").
While in Toronto, I managed to slip over to the 12th Fret, quite possibly the best music store in Ontario that sells rootsy instruments with funny names ("Bandola"). The place was amazing - next time I'll have to bring a towel to wipe up the drool. Anyways, I walked out of the store the owner of a new guitar - a square neck resonator (also inaccurately known as a "Dobro"). To hear what one sounds like in competent hands, listen to Jerry Douglas (who's currently employed in Allison Krauss' Union Station), or Greg Leisz.