The first time I Googled "Coachella Festival," I was surprised to see we would be playing alongside Portishead. Only later did I realize we were playing the "Country Coachella," better known as Stagecoach Festival in Indio, Calif. And to be honest, I was happier because it meant I would get to see The Judds. This may surprise some of you, but as a kid, my brother and I would listen to those records every weekend. Looking at the line-up, everything else was secondary -- Earl Scruggs, Sam Bush, Riders in the Sky. Had any of them recorded "Grandpa"? Or "River Of Time"? I don't think so...
One thing is for sure -- traveling on the road is never boring. There's always an adventure just ahead. After performing to a sold out venue in Farmington Hills, Mich., we started towards the Canadian border at Port Huron. Just before reaching the border, traffic came to a stand still, due to a toxic waste spill on the interstate. Our driver, Yogi, quickly got on the CB to find out how long the wait could be. They were saying eight hours or more. Yogi positioned the bus to cross the grassy median, after closely checking the firmness, to see if we could cross. He flattened out the gas pedal and didn't let up till we made the U-turn back onto the pavement. It was a rough ride, but we were moving once again and on our way to Detroit to cross the border into Canada.
Posted: May 8th, 2008 at 2:57 pm| By: Brian Tipton
Some of country music's top songwriters converged last week in Key West, Fla., for the 13th annual Key West Songwriters Festival, where they played free shows in the town's various nightspots and watering holes along Duval Street. The tiny island was overrun with tourists and festival attendees who jam-packed the venues for dancing and late night sing-alongs.With so many people around doing what vacationing, sometimes intoxicated people do, I found it difficult to stay focused on the music at times. However, there were a few ticketed shows at the Hog's Breath Writer's Room and the Tropic Theater, where Jeffrey Steele, Chuck Cannon, Kim Richey, Raul Malo, Robert Earl Keen, Kylie Sackley and other professional tunesmiths played shows with a Bluebird Café vibe and attentive crowd. I know these songwriters love it when artists like Rascal Flatts, LeAnn Rimes, Montgomery Gentry and Faith Hill record their songs, but personally, I always prefer to hear the songs straight from the creator's mouth. The music portion of the festival culminated in a street party where Keen and Steele entertained throngs of people strolling along Duval Street.
"Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar."That famous quote from Sigmund Freud cautions against forcing meaning into events or objects where there is none.
Most of the time, when recording artists put out positive uptempo songs, the point is to not think too deeply, just to simply breeze through the moment and try to embrace some bit of energy or happiness. That is pretty much the point of Alan Jackson's new single, "Good Time," in which a working man celebrates his weekend away from the grind.
Jackson drew a comparison a week ago between that song and some of his earlier uptempo numbers, including "Chattahoochee," which was released as a single 15 years ago this week (May 10). Jackson didn't expect much with the song, figuring it was about a river that was personal to him but unfamiliar to most people outside his home state of Georgia. Instead, the thing took off and became one of several signposts in his career.
Posted: May 7th, 2008 at 11:26 am| By: Edward Morris
Have I been listening to the next IBMA song of the year? I know it's already got my vote. Rhonda Vincent's recording of Jerry Salley and Lisa Shaffer's "I Gotta Start Somewhere" swept me away the first time I heard it. Most of us can recall a romantic breakup we didn't want to happen and the hollow, helpless feeling that followed it. That's the dark emotional territory this song explores, and Vincent's forlorn rendering of the lyrics make the terrain all the more bleak.
Now Vincent has further enhanced the song with a music video, thus enabling us to see as well as hear her misery. It's an effective piece of film that stays fairly faithful to the lyrics. The normally vivacious singer really does look distracted and heartbroken as she goes through the motions of ridding herself of a painful memory. My only qualm is that the director has her driving around in a stylish old convertible when her mood clearly calls for more somber equipage, perhaps a hearse. But there are some telling touches, too, as when she thumbs through a stack of old vinyl albums and lingers over a Dolly Parton record, or when she momentarily loses herself completing a jigsaw puzzle. She looks the most empty when she's back in her room removing her earrings after a date that hasn't worked out.
Here's hoping the video will expose the song to audiences that might otherwise never hear it. And I'm urging members of the International Bluegrass Music Association to pay it special attention. This is music worth awarding.
Like a lot of people, I couldn't get a good seat at Stagecoach festival this year because I didn't buy a VIP seat. (In fact, I didn't realize there would be VIP seats.) So I spent most of the weekend milling around behind the throng of lawn chairs and blankets and wrote about the festival mostly from what I saw on the big screens. That's OK, too. At least I didn't have to walk as far to the barbecue contest. And I could easily hear music from the Eagles, John Fogerty, the Judds, Tim McGraw, Carrie Underwood and more.
If I'm interpreting a sidebar on the People magazine Web site correctly, Barbara Mandrell is tabbed in the publication's annual "Most Beautiful People" list, which this year is being expanded from 50 to 100. That's a nice compliment to Babs, who turns 60 this Christmas.
During her heyday, she was one of country music's greatest ambassadors, in part because her television show, Barbara Mandrell & the Mandrell Sisters, put the genre on prime time every Saturday night. The show was dismissed by critics, but the public loved it, and Barbara stopped only because it took time away from her family and her music.
Editor's Note: To kick off Bluegrass Month in May, the CMT Music Blog is proud to debut Rhonda Vincent's new video, "I Gotta Start Somewhere."
2008 is off to an incredible start. What a way to celebrate the new year with a No. 1 album. And WOW ... 7 consecutive weeks at No. 1 on Billboard. Next to be released is the new video of "I Gotta Start Somewhere." It's always exciting to shoot a new video, though I walked barefoot by a creek in summer clothes in 40 degree weather and ended up with bronchitis. And do you know, they didn't even use the creek shot.
Dallas Henry did a great job and his entire crew was great to work with. Check out my possible love interest in the video. Vance Mitchell is the guy at Clampett's Hardware Store. Watch for him in the current Acura car commercial. It's always fun to have guests when we shoot a video. Who would have known that the little girl in my "If Heartaches Had Wings" video would eventually become Hannah Montana? So look out for Vance. This was my seventh career video. I can't say they're exactly FUN to make, but they're sure fun when they're finished. Be sure to watch!
Apparently, the sweet lifestyle of a rock star comes later. Because when I woke up with Lady Antebellum a few days ago, there was none of that sleep-‘til-noon sense of entitlement. Their work ethic was being put to the test, starting at 6 a.m.
That's what time they woke up in Chicago to get the WGN-TV morning news show for their 7 a.m. load-in and then their 8 a.m. start time. All for a little media attention during their multi-city tour to promote their debut album. With the project entering Billboard's country chart in the top position and their first single already in the Top 10, it's apparently working. Read more...
Posted: April 23rd, 2008 at 3:48 pm| By: Chet Flippo
Hayes Carll evokes a long tradition going back to many years in clubs like Houston's Old Quarter, of seeing the likes of Guy Clark and Townes Van Zandt and Ray Wylie Hubbard for the first time. Being blown away by the sense of kinship with these ragged, eloquent poets of the backstreets. Galveston and Houston, especially, with their weather-beaten and rundown boozy clubs, have nurtured these rangy singer-songwriters for years.