Here’s another post in the “Shine A Light” series. The series is hopefully going to remind you of music you may have forgot about or re light a fire for ones you continue to like. Another hope, is that it will turn you on to someone that you never heard of and they become a favorite.

When was the last time you heard someone new that stuck with you and became a big part of your listening life. I hope Walt Wilkins can become one of those for you. Walt is a  dear friend and a big, strong force in the current Texas music scene. Make no mistake however, it’s not made to just hum along and not pay attention to the lyric. Walt’s music is deep stuff, much akin to Jackson Browne or Kris Kristofferson in depth. For any of you in Texas, do yourself and your friends a big favor and find Walt in a town near you. You won’t be disappointed and you can thank me later. Check him out at www.waltwilkins.com

Walt spent 10 years here in Nashville writing some of the best stuff ever, but it didn’t resonate with the ears that make the decisions and generally those ears are happy with the same ole same ole. Whatever is the hot ticket at the time, they just want more of it until it’s dead, then they move on to the next big thing. That doesn’t leave much room for artists. It does however leave a ton of room for “acts”. Same story here for a long time. Walt moved back to his home state of Texas and stays very busy being a uplifting the  troubadour tradition, crisscrossing the state and neighboring states, bringing fine folks his art. The kinds of artists need to be supported. Find him, Facebook, website, local show. It’s good medicine for whatever ales you. I’d love to hear comments on what you listen to these days. What moves you? If music isn’t as big a part of your life, there’s still time. It’s good for the soul and can be soothing when nothing else works. Contrary to previous generations thoughts, there’s no need to outgrow music.

What Is It?

Very straight forward, it’s a movie about a family, a spunky little girl and a horse (think “Sea Biscuit” for kids).

How Was It?

The camera work is nice. The story was very predictable. (This would be a spoiler, but watching the first 20 minutes of the film is a spoiler.) It is also balanced. Everything in the beginning has a fulfillment or opposite in the end so you flow through with little to no tension or anxiety. This is where the movie shines. Despite the fact that they have all but told you what is going to happen, this cast makes you care. Headed up by one of the best actresses in Hollywood, Dakota Fanning gives you a performance that makes you feel along with them. It becomes a bit like an amusement ride: you can very clearly see the next turn, but it still makes your stomach flop while you whip around it. Kurt Russell and Kris Kristofferson are also noteworthy as the two presiding generations.

Is It Good for Kids?

There is some use of bad language but , outside of using God’s name, nothing in the major category. Other than that, it would just depend on your child being able to handle the harder images of the horse getting hurt and things of that nature. There are some tense moments between father and daughter, but they are resolved well. Beyond that, (spoiler) the child is given ownership of the horse, and thus all the decision power, but it is shown as the father giving her responsibility and teaching her, not by putting parents in a bad light.

You can check screenit.com for a break down of what they put on the screen.

What About Spiritual Issues?

There is a Mexican horse hand named Manolin (Freddy Rodríguez ) who is a former jockey. He ran in two races and nearly died in the second. He says believes that his dreams of the accident are God ’s way of letting him know that he should not race. (Spoiler of sorts) Later, when he trains to ride the reconditioned horse, he tells the little girl that his new dream is God showing him that he should race again. He seems to handle the disappointment of not getting to be in the race for which he

was training by understanding that he’s where God wants him. He ends the conversation with “God bless you, ” which sounds awkward without a sneeze. This little mention is nice. It’s nothing evangelical or challenging, just a recognition that He is involved.

What Is Your Recommendation?

It’s a movie that kids will enjoy and parents will not mind. If you have a young lady who likes horses, this would be a nice family night

Dreamer – Inspired By a True Story

Last night while Norm Peterson my husband was upstairs working on our bedroom renovation/redecoration, I got sucked into several hours of the Biography Channel.  I’m pretty confident that I can now tell you just about anything you need to know about Johnny Cash, Willie Nelson, Sheryl Crow, or the upcoming special about celebrity encounters with ghosts.  Critical information.

One of the segments I really enjoyed was a program called “Johnny Cash America” and included all sorts of amazing video footage of his life.  In it, certain portions had voice-overs by Johnny himself, lending a rather eerie quality to the old film.  His unmistakable voice and larger-than-life persona made me hunger to know more about someone I had previously only encountered via Joaquin Phoenix in Hollywood’s Walk the Line.

One of the things Johnny said about faith got my attention, making me stop to grab a pen.  I rewound the DVR to get the words just right.  Maybe you’ll find them to be profound, as well:

“What is man if he doesn’t have a spirit, and what is man’s spirit if it cannot connect with the Master of Life?”

~

Later, in the Willie Nelson biography, Kris Kristofferson praised his friend as the kindest, funniest individual he’s ever known.  He lauded Willie’s “outlaw” style of blazing his own trail and not falling into the easy traps of sounding like someone else, dressing like other Nashville stars, or wearing his hair like most country stars of the 50’s & 60’s did.  But it was, again, one sentence that struck me as especially meaningful.  Kris said this about Willie:

“[Willie] wears the world like a loose garment.”

~

Both of these quotes have stuck with me today.  In particular, I’ve been thinking about the last one and about whether the same will ever be said about me.  That I was in the world, but not of the world.  That I engaged fully in this place, but was not tossed about aimlessly by the quickly-shifting winds of culture and expectations.  That I wore the world like a loose garment: draping myself in it, but not constrained by it.  Not confined or limited.  Not bound by the seams, stitches, whims of another.

To me, that’s a beautiful thought.

Filme Para Mulheres… Só Para Mulheres Mesmo! Proibida a Entrada de Homens!

 Gênero: Romance, Comédia, Drama
Censura: 12 anos
Duração: 129 min
Direção: Ken Kwapis
Com: Ginnifer Goodwin, Kris Kristofferson, Kevin Connolly, Scarlett Johansson, Jennifer Aniston, Justin Long, Jennifer Connelly, Drew Barrymore, Ben Affleck.
Local de Filmagem: Baltimore, Maryland, USA; Beverly Hills, California, USA; Burbank, California, USA; Formosa Street, Maida Vale, London, England, UK; London, England, UK; Los Angeles, California, USA; Madras, Oregon, USA; Maida Vale, London, England, UK; Portland, Oregon, USA e Venice, Los Angeles, California, USA.
Produção: Nancy Juvonen
Roteiro: Abby Kohn, Marc Silverstein, baseado no livro de Greg Behrendt e Liz Tuccillo – "He’s Just Not That Into You: The No-Excuses Truth to Understanding Guys"
Fotografia: John Bailey
Trilha Sonora: Cliff Eidelman
Distribuidora: PlayArte Filmes
Estúdio: Flower Films

SINOPSE:
Gigi, interpretada por Ginnifer Goodwin [Day Zero (2007), "Big Love" como Margene Heffman  (34 episodes, 2006-2009) e In the Land of Women (2007)] é uma romântica incorrigível que sai com Conor, interpretado por Kevin Connolly ["Entourage" Eric Murphy como (66 episodes, 2004-2008), The Notebook (2004) e The Ugly Truth (2009)] que é o tipo de cara que nunca liga no dia seguinte.

Um dia ela resolve encontrar com Conor “acidentalmente” em um bar que ele costuma freqüentar, e acaba conhecendo Alex, interpretado por Justin Long [Jeepers Creepers (2001), Zack and Miri Make a Porno (2008) e Alvin and the Chipmunks (2007) (voice) como Alvin] que é o sujeito que divide o apartamento com Conor, e que tem uma visão muito clara sobre o mundo, cuja qual ele decide compartilhar com Gigi numa viagem ao complicado mundo da mente masculina.

Depois de “cair na real”, segundo as revelações de Alex, Gigi percebe que ao invés de correr atrás dos homens com quem tivera um encontro apenas, bem como ficar tentado interpretar os sinais que os mesmos dão durante esses encontros, ela resolve desencanar e não correr mais atrás, nem o telefone deles ela passa a anotar.

Mas o que Gigi não percebe é que ela caiu exatamente na mesma ladainha, mas dessa vez foi com Alex, que de fato passou todos os sinais de que ele estava afim, mas…

Bom essas sinopse será um pouco mais longa do que eu gostaria que ela fosse. Mas vale a pena ler…

Nesse bolo de Gigi, Conor e Alex, temos outros encontros e desencontros, por exemplo: Conor não liga de volta para Gigi porque ele é apaixonado por Anna Taylor, interpretada por Scarlett Johansson [Vicky Cristina Barcelona (2008), The Island (2005) e Iron Man 2 (2010)] que está apixonada por Ben Gunders, interpretado por Bradley Cooper [Yes Man (2008), The Midnight Meat Train (2008) e "Nip/Tuck" como Aidan Stone (6 episodes, 2007-2009)] cujo qual ela conheceu na fila do caixa do supermercado e que é casado com Janine Gunders, interpretada por Jennifer Connelly [Blood Diamond (2006), House of Sand and Fog (2003) e Dark City (1998)].

Por sua vez, Janine trabalha com Beth Barllet, interpretada por Jennifer Aniston [The Break-Up (2006), Marley & Me (2008) e Along Came Polly (2004)] que é “juntada” com Neil Jones, interpretado por Ben Affleck [State of Play (2009), Smokin' Aces (2006) e Pearl Harbor (2001)]. Janine e Beth trabalham também com Gigi, e passam o dia todo debatendo seus relacionamentos e o dos outros.

Neil e Ben são amigos e compartilham suas fobias de casamento juntos, tanto os deles quanto os dos outros.

Já Beth vive um dilema com seu “namorido”, pois Neil se recusa a casar com ela, alegando que já vivem a tantos anos juntos que casar poderia estragar tudo, além dele mesmo ser contra a oficialização perante as leis civis e religiosas.

E para acabar com esse super bolo de encontros e desencontros, Conor contrata Mary Harris, interpretada por Drew Barrymore [Music and Lyrics (2007), 50 First Dates (2004) e Charlie's Angels (2000)] para realizar seu marketing pessoal, pois Conor é corretor de imóveis e quer aumentar o número de visitação das casas que ele é responsável pela venda ou locação. Já Mary só namora “on line” e espera conhecer ser príncipe encantado, seu par feito…

CRÍTICA

Do mesmo diretor de “Licença Pra Casar” – 2007 (License to Wed) e Quatro Amigas e Um Jeans Viajante – 2005 (The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants), Ken Kwapis acertou mais uma vez na receita do bolo, e que bolo!

Recém saído da telonas, agora é aguardar a chegada nas locadoras, ou procurar pelas salas de cinema que ainda estejam com o longa em cartaz para assistir ao drama romântico que mostra com clareza o mundo complicado da mulheres e suas infinitas ladainhas.

Quantas vezes ouvi minhas amigas dizerem que o “cara” não me merecia, ou que o cara não ligou pois estava com algum problema, em fim, sabem quantas justificativas cretinas já ouvi de amigas, tias, mães e do próprio “cretino” que ele não me ligou por algum motivo idiota, que está na cara que era uma puta mentira deslavada e ninguém, ninguém mesmo teve a “porra” da coragem de dizer que “ELE NÃO ESTAVA TÃO AFIM DE MIM”…

Conflitos amorosos, brigas homéricas entre namorados, traição, cara metade, alma gêmea, fofocas, etc. Tudo que envolve o relacionamento entre homens e mulheres é mostrado nesse longa de uma forma esclarecedora, sincera e um tanto engraçada.

Não é um filme para homens assistirem, mas sim, para homens corajosos o suficiente para enfrentarem as mil e uma “ladainhas” femininas e de uma vez por todas, descobrirem alguns dos vários segredos das mulheres… É vocês vão poder ver com os próprios olhos o que as mulheres fazem (pensam) no primeiro encontro, o quanto as mulheres imaginam (viajam), fantasiam (sonham) sobre os homens…

Estou exagerando um pouquinho para vocês leitores entrarem no clima, afinal é um filme para mulheres, mas os homens devem sim, assistir. O filme é bom, boas atuações, ótimas sacadas e excelente roteiro. Não vai agradar a todos, mas com certeza vai agradar o público feminino, pelo menos a parte que tem plena consciência de que as mulheres são sim mais pré dispostas a abrirem seus corações do que os homens.

O amor pode estar em qualquer lugar, mas na maioria das vezes, ele se mostra nos momentos menos esperados… Basicamente é disso que o filme se trata. Não adianta nada escolhermos o par perfeito, a pessoa certa, o cara ideal, a mulher dos sonhos, ou como já ouvi por aí, a  “mulher da minha vida”…  Pelo amor de Deus, como ela pode ser a mulher da sua vida se você a viu somente uma vez?

São as pequenas coisas, os gestos, as atitudes, as palavras, que definem a essência de uma pessoa, de fato Conor acaba percebendo isso no final da história, quando sem ter uma puta idéia, ele acaba esbarrando naquela que seria sua mulher e mãe dos seus filhos, e ironicamente, eles já se conheciam…

bom filme…
roberta vieira
http://www.hesjustnotthatintoyoumovie.com/

CONFIRA O TRAILER ABAIXO:

]]> http://allenshadow.wordpress.com/2009/11/27/breakthroughs-bitterness-and-biopics/ Fri, 27 Nov 2009 02:49:35 +0000 allenshadow http://allenshadow.wordpress.com/2009/11/27/breakthroughs-bitterness-and-biopics/

Music biographies mesmerized me when I was a kid. Whether it was Glenn Miller or Elvis Presley, it was always the same fascinating formula: talent and tenacity leading to the precipice of success, with the artist always searching for that one elusive element to define his signature sound, to breakthrough. With Miller it was the addition of trombones. The proceedings always put me on the edge of my seat and the breakthroughs set me reeling. I guess it was in my blood.

It persists. The other night I watched two great documentary-style biopics on TV, one on Johnny Cash, another on Willie Nelson. Willie, as many of his fans may not realize, was actually a Nashville songwriter penning such classics as “Crazy,” which Patsy Cline etched into the music lexicon. Despite his preeminent status as a writer, Willie couldn’t get arrested as an artist in Music City. His quirky phrasing was way too off-beat for the 60s sound, which was infused with sweet strings and pop arrangements.

At the age of 40, Willie returned home to Texas. Such a move would have meant a life sentence selling insurance had history not intervened. As fate would have it, Woodstock Nation had opened the doors to multiple music movements by the early 70s, and Willie realized that such hippie hangouts as Austin’s Armadillo World Headquarters were ready for a new kind of country artist. He enlisted his buddy Waylon Jennings, among others, and set about launching a novel sound to a new audience. His ultimate success turned country music, and the music establishment at large, on its head. Ultimately, he was responsible for redefining music, establishing its “outlaw” class and creating the Austin revolution as well as worldwide social activism that persists to this day.

Despite his huge outsider success, Nashville rejected this giant yet again. By the 1980s, you couldn’t find a Willie song on mainstream country radio, and forget about a major label deal.

Okay, let’s get right down to the hard part. Cash was just another music god to be tumbled unceremoniously from Olympus. By the 80s, he, too, was cast out like so much trash. His popularity was dwindling, and he was struggling to find an audience and make a living.

So these outlaw outcasts banded together, literally, forming the country supergroup The Highwaymen, along with Waylon and Kris Kristofferson. Talk about a Mount Rushmore of talent. They had taken fate into their own hands and, once again, set out to redefine the music scene, outside the establishment, all on their own.

A Bronx boy, I was still getting my country legs under me, when I hit Nashville in the late 80s. At the time, I couldn’t understand why the likes of Willie and Johnny weren’t getting mainstream air play, why I could eat lunch with Emmylou Harris but couldn’t hear her songs on country radio, why Nanci Griffith was considered a darling in all the clubs, to all the execs, but couldn’t get the chart toppers and eventually carped about it in interviews.

I was just getting introduced to the hard truth of the music industry: bitterness. Griffith was bitter, my friend Artie Traum (from back home in Woodstock) — one of the sweetest guys to ever grace the business — was expressing a degree of bitterness, too, in interviews of the day. I was just learning.

The songwriting trade in Nashville was rough. By year two, I was saying you had to learn to live on a diet of stones. Rejection was the blue-plate special everyday. It took me two years to get my first major song contract and more to get my first staff writing job and my first cut. Everyone who stuck with it had war stories: the song on hold that never happened, the artist cut that got dropped by the label or never got released as a single or didn’t make it above 20 on the charts. But, despite eventual successes and even industry support, I left after a decade to pursue a career as an artist, packing scars and wisdom, love and hate.

But back to Johnny Cash. One of the greatest artists to “walk the line,” he faced the pure pain of artistry more deeply, more movingly than anyone before him. Late in his career, with the help of producer Rick Rubin, Johnny faced his inner darkness, his demons, his truth, his soul. With such albums as “American Recordings” and “Unchained,” he found a vast and vital new audience, just years before his death. His new material was so raw that family members had a tough time listening. They told him it sounded like he was saying goodbye. He told them he was.

Pure Johnny Cash

In the Cash bio, artists such as Sheryl Crow, John Mellencamp and Vince Gill expressed the true painful tumble that all artists must face. Mellencamp himself recently penned a telling if rambling article on the biz in HuffPost, a blog post that established a wellspring of conversation in the social media sector.

So, this little Bronx boy, who reeled from the Glenn Miller story and cut and broke his teeth on Music Row, finally came to understand bitterness and the role it plays in any music career. No one is exempt. It may be (excuse me) a bitter pill to swallow, but I recommend downing it to develop a good artist-immune system. Another words, one has to learn to deal with it, embrace it, pain and all, and find a way to move on. Carry it on your back, in your suitcase, in your heart, on your skin — the rose tattoo of the music artist.

Movember (a portmanteau of the words ‘Moustache’ and ‘November’), is an annual month-long event involving the growing of moustaches during the month of November. The event has been claimed to have been invented in 1999 by group of Australian men from Adelaide.

Since 2004, the Movember Foundation charity has run Movember events to raise awareness and funds for men’s health issues, such as prostate cancer and depression, in Australia and New Zealand. In 2007, events were launched in Ireland, Canada, Spain, the United Kingdom, and the United States.

I’ve went unshaven for pretty much the whole of November. The reason? I had an agreement with a few friends that we would let our facial fuzz grow for a few weeks and then shave it into some form of moustache for the last week in November so we could do our own little contribution to the Movember Campaign. Well the beginning of the last week in November started yesterday. So on Sunday afternoon i blew the dust off my razor and had a shave, i must admit i was tempted to shave the whole beard off as it was getting itchy as hell BUT i stuck to the agreement and shaved myself a Lemmy style moustache/beard effort. Today i’ve came to the decision that for each remaining day this week i’ll have a different style. Basically i’ll gradually shave the moustache off bit by bit. So Sunday, yesterday and today i sported the Lemmy style. Tomorrow will be the simple yet overwhelmingly camp handlebar, Thursday will be a “normal”, casual moustache and on Friday it comes off. I realise that technically that means i’ve only sported a moustache for 5 days and not a week. But Sunday to Thursday is enough for me! Plus, i’ve got a night out on Friday and there is no way that i’m heading into the Glasgow nightlife with a hairy top lip!

Tom Selleck's gotta be in there somewhere!

This Friday, i’ll do a special post about my 5 days living with my moustache and also a special “Top Lip Music Top Ten” List that’ll include the best ten moustaches in music.  I’ll also stick up some pictures of my own fuzz so everyone can have a laugh at my hairy lipped expense.

Until then though enjoy two classic moustaches……technically these two dudes have beards but seeing as i’m saving the Moustache Brigade for Friday they’ll do for the moment.

MP3: Motorhead – Ace Of Spades

MP3: Kris Kristofferson – Closer To The Bone

And as a little taster of what to expect from my own facial creations have a look  (and listen) at this….

S.I.T Wolf  X

Lloyd Cole – Live!

A filthy night in Brighton is not for the fainthearted, but Lloyd Cole is a talent worth braving the elements for. For those not in the know, Cole’s star burned brightly in the eighties when he was lauded by the music press as one of the most distinctive and literate songwriters around. A string of hit singles and albums followed until seemingly at the height of his success, he disbanded the Commotions and decamped for New York. Predictably the press turned on him and although he continued to record exceptional albums, he was denied the recognition he deserved. Stung by the experience, Cole has spent a decade crafting immaculate songs, releasing the results on a series of self financed albums and touring solo.

To the show then. Two sets, about 35 songs including covers of Leonard Cohen’s ‘Tower of Song’, Kris Kristofferson’s ‘Please Don’t Tell Me How This Story Ends’ and surprisingly, The Killer’s ‘Human’. Cole’s dry, self deprecating wit lifts the audience and the voice being intact, his reworked arrangements of his own extensive catalogue, including a dusting of new material combine to produce a truly remarkable gig. Cole’s is an enviable talent, as a songwriter he leaves other more feted musicians in his dust, as a lyricist he is quite simply untouchable. That he has decided to reject the trappings of the industry allows his music to speak for itself. That it does, eloquently, is no mean achievement in a business where for most performers such a decision would result in at best, a ghastly silence. About time for a critical reappraisal in my opinion…

First up, Suns Hanging Low by NQ Arbuckle…kind of reminds me of Ray Materick a few decades on, or a younger Kris Kristofferson, off the wonderfully named cd Last Supper in a Cheap Town. For a real treat, check out My Baby off XOK).

Second, NQ on stage engaging in the fine old Canadian tradition of beer dancing along with the line-up from his latest cd, all performing Luke Doucet’s song Bloods Too Rich (Doucet, Melissa McClelland and Justin Rutledge). Two more great Doucet songs here.

Third up an old favourite, Melissa McLelland’s Passenger 24.

Waylon Payne is hitting Nashville early on a hot July morning. He’s driving a new used gold Mercedes Benz and he needs a shave and a shower and a couple cups of coffee. He’s been up late seeing old friends, which by his own admission is not a wise decision. He looks a little strung out and a lot like James Dean in Giant, in the scene just before Dean strikes oil. But this isn’t the movies, where even the messes are beautifully framed and everything seems to work out in the end. This is Payne’s life and he’s trying. “Lord, I’m trying,” he sighs.

It isn’t easy, though. Payne’s got bad habits, and he’s dragging around a family legacy straight out of a Tennessee Williams play, by way of Hee Haw. He’s had more lucky breaks than most, but he’s been kicked a lot harder too. The son of country singer Sammi Smith, of “Help Me Make It Through the Night” fame, Payne was raised by his conservative Christian aunt and uncle who disowned him when he was kicked out of seminary for having an affair with a monk, leaving him homeless and on the streets while still a teenager. He pulls down his shirt to reveal the man’s name tattooed over his heart. “I know who I am,” he says, defiantly. “I wear it proudly.”

Payne is sitting at a table outside a packed café when the member of a very successful country act—it would be hard to call them a band—walks past and glances at him. “Is that…?” Payne mutters. And then curses under his breath.

And what else could he do? Waylon Payne can write a better song walking back and forth to his weed dealer’s apartment than half the writers on Music Row could in a hundred years. In fact he has—listen to his 2004 debut The Drifter, a throwback to Guitar Town-era Steve Earle, forged during Payne’s days in L.A.’s honky tonk scene. On songs like “Her” and “Jesus on a Greyhound,” Payne writes with an incredible eye for detail and sings with all his might, sounding like a cross between the Replacements’ Tommy Stinson and Wayne “The Train” Hancock. You probably won’t be able to find it though. According to Payne, the label only printed 7500 copies and then sent him a bill for $150,000, which forced him into bankruptcy. Today, he disowns the record as “not real.”

Real is everything to him, and he comes out with it in rapid bursts, almost with a vengeance against the cold world of Southern euphemisms he knew growing up. When he speaks, half the time it sounds like a sermon and the other half it sounds like a confession. He veers between traditional country grandiosity–“Put me in the Opry, dammit! What else do they need? I got a hit record and I’m in the movies!” and “I’d like to have my own show on CMT, like a variety show, with an orchestra”—to things someone who wants to be in the Grand Ol’ Opry should never, ever say into a tape recorder. In the stereo of the Mercedes is a burned CD of four songs from his new album, Needles, that he is writing slowly down in Austin. There are stories behind those songs that Payne will tell you in full detail. But he shouldn’t.

He’s got new management that believes in him and a publishing deal. He’s also got a sleeper hit creeping up the charts with Lee Ann Womack’s “Solitary Thinkin’,” written by Payne in less than an hour in a Los Angeles bar. “A prostitute bar,” he laughs. “But I didn’t know it was a prostitute bar. I was just wondering why the drinks were free all night.” He’s heard rumors of a Grammy nomination for it. It’s sure good enough. “See, I initially started out as just a singer, because I didn’t think I had anything to say. I was wrong. If you have something to say, baby, sing it loud and sing it true. It will never hurt you. You can get away with a lot singin’ it in a song.”

Gay, high and possibly brilliant, Payne makes you wonder how much more he is going to get away with. With a voice that makes you believe every word he sings and an eloquence for heartbreak that harkens back to the classic country ballads he fell in love with as a kid, he’s the kind of guy you want to shake out of his own way. What’s he doing in a town like this, in a business that makes the hack who just walked past a millionaire and makes Waylon Payne plead to cut the record he hears in his heart and writes on slow lonesome walks wherever he finds himself?

Payne waves off questions like that. He truly does not care. Like he says, he knows who he is and he wears it proudly. “And I know beyond the shadow of a doubt that I can walk onto any stage in any room, alone, with just a guitar and I’m great. I’m great.” The trick now is letting everyone else know. So he shows up for the meeting with his new manager, and later he swings by his publisher’s to play some of the new songs. He may not care, but he does have something to prove—and a head full of songs to prove it with. The question is will he slow down long enough to write them, or will he die trying.

–Ari Surdoval

From The Silver Tongued Devil & I, Kristofferson’s second album and big breakthrough and still his most awesomely rad record ever (note grammatically correct title – he didn’t go to Oxford for nothing). Images in the video are from Cisco Pike, Kristofferson’s first big movie role (1972) – I believe this song was on the soundtrack, along with lots of other Kristofferson tunes.

The clubs are all closed and the ladies are leaving
There’s nobody nobody knows on the street
A few stranded souls standing cold at the station
And nowhere to go but to bed and to sleep
Lord would you look at you now that you’re here ain’t you
Proud of your peers and the long way you’ve come
All alone all the way on your own who’s to say
That you’ve thrown it away for a song boy you’ve sure come a long way from home

So it’s so long so many so far behind you
Fairweather friends that you no longer know
You still got the same lonely songs to remind you
Of someone you seemed to be so long ago
Lord would you look at you…

The Zac Brown Band tore it up at the CMA’s tonight.  I generally don’t approve of people covering this song, but this was amazing.  I saw Charlie Daniels sing this once and by the end of the song his bow was completely torn up.  I remember thinking “Wow, nobody is ever going to come close to this.”  My mind has been changed.  I LOVE to see talented, young, musicians just kicking ass.  I didn’t even mind that the singing the fiddle playing were done by different people…..

You know you’ve done a good job at the CMA’s when you get a standing ovation and in the pan of the crowd you see Kris Kristofferson beaming.* 

Year’s ago, Jason used to see Zac Brown play at a bar he frequented.  I remember him coming home all the time  saying “Wow, that guy is going to make it big someday.”  At the end of this performance, Jason looked at me and said “Wow, I’m sort of bursting with pride right now.”

*How weird is it that I’ve mentioned Kris Kristofferson twice in the last week??

ABC & CMT.com Covers the 2009 CMA Awards

The annual CMA Awards are hailed as being the biggest night in country music every year.This year’s 43rd annual show will be hosted by Brad Paisley and Carrie Underwood.CMT.com will be covering news from the event as ABC airs the award show live tonight on Weds.November 11,2009  8/7 c .Kid Rock will perform a duet with four-time CMA nominee Jamey Johnson and will also present an award. The rap rocker is no stranger to the CMAs – last year, he performed his country hit “All Summer Long,” and in 2003 was nominated along with Sheryl Crow for vocal event of the year for their song “Picture.”Martina McBride will also join the list of show performers, who already include Taylor Swift, Keith Urban, Tim McGraw, Kenny Chesney and show co-hosts Brad Paisley and Carrie Underwood. Newly announced presenters include Kris Kristofferson, Lee Ann Womack and the Judds.

Do you ever see a movie and recognize so many people in it that you wonder why you’re never heard of it before?  The was me watching ‘The Jacket’.  To be fair, I fell asleep half way through (I’ve been fighting a cold), so I really can’t tell you how the movie was.  The part I saw was disturbing…but sort of intriguing. 

The funny thing was that, before we turned the movie on, neither of us had ever even heard anything about this film.  The Direct TV synopsis mentioned Adrien Brody and Kris Kristofferson, so we expected them.  But as I watched the movie, I kept asking Jason “Hey, isn’t that….”.  This was hilareous because Jason could watch the year’s blockbuster starring the biggest star in the world and not remember what movie is was or who was in it.

It was a really strange mix of talent…some A-list, some not…but, yeah, it was stacked…..

Guy Terrifico é uma estrela do country rock canadiano dos anos 60. Guy Terrifico é um ícone da juventude, pela sua irreverência. Guy Terrifico é um amante que deixa as mulheres sem sentidos. Todas estas facetas são retratadas neste mockumentary, que inventa Guy Terrifico (Matt Murphy) como o protótipo perfeito da estrela da música da década. Penso que por cá isto passou há uns anos no Indie Lisboa, para relembrar quem tenha oportunidade de ter visto. Com entrevistas (inventadas) a Kris Kristofferson, Merle Haggard, Levon Helms, Phil Kaufman, e muitos mais do meio da música, vamos desvendando o personagem, a influência que teve e como desapareceu um dia, no meio de um concerto, deixando apenas o som de balas, uma nuvem de fumo e o cheiro a álcool para trás, para nunca mais ser visto. Não sendo uma biopic, podemos fazer um paralelismo com Walk the Line, (só porque é o único filme sobre músicos country que me lembro) mas com alguns disparates subtis à mistura. Escrito e realizado por Michael Mabbott, é bastante original e dá para umas gargalhadas valentes.

Marante, man, larga aí a ganza e começa lá a acompanhar esta malha.

Arranje um emprego como vendedor de pipocas para ver o filme no cinema

Efectivament ja queda poc per poder veure els premis. I espero que, entre treballs, llibres i malalties ho podem veure (si no podem en directe que sigui on-line el dia següent) per donar-vos -esperem- alegries. Perquè ja sabem que els nostres “nens” estaran per allà fents salts i rascant guitarra i, si es repeteix l’espectacle de els CMT’s (bé, alguns moments concrets, evitant la cutreria dels cors de la Swift), farà gust de veure.

La quiniela que ens va deixar l’Adela us pot ajudar a recordar a qui heu de votar (que no costa res registrar-se i sinó ho feu de cor). I ara al què anava.

Ja sabem que un dels animadors de la nit serà el nostre estimat patufet Paisley que tot amor segur que amenirà la nit -això em recorda que: Adela, si haguéssim fet les samarretes quan tocaba, fet les fotos, enviat les fotos i l’e-mail, potser a la CMA en Brad portaria la samarreta. (No en feu cas, somnis d’adolescents). I bé, com que mai està de més està informat dir que els últims fitxatges: Jamey Johnson (amb quatre nominacions), Kid Rock i la Martina McBride (nominada a millor vocalista femenina), que donaran la nota damunt l’escenari del 43è CMA anual. Es preveu que la Martina canti en solitari mentre que els dos homes cantin en duet (jo ho vull veure, perquè el primer que em ve al cap és en Kid Rock cantant “All summer long” amb en Jamey per allà ballant a la barra). Què més…sí! Com a presentadors s’adjuntent també the Judds, Kris Kristofferson (mai em cansaria de dir el seu nom) i Lee Ann Womack.

I per acabar recordar que juntament amb en Brad tindrem a la Carrie Underwood (m’estic plantejant d’un dia traduir aquests cognoms ). A viam si la ABC és maja i passa la gala en directe per internet…i sinó…a buscar tothom com agafar la ABC des de casa!

P.D: Com es nota que hem començat la universitat, no és per falta de ganes sinó de temps que aquest mes està anant a la baixa. Amb prou feines treiem el temps de sota les pedres i escrivim alguna coseta.

Maria

Country and folk musik always has a rebellious touch. You might not hear it right away, when you lean back and enjoy just the musical part, but it does, when you start listening to the words, when you know what Bob Dylan or Johnny Cash stood for in their heydays, and when you’re familiar with their always subersive personalities and lyrics. Then you will understand that it felt as if Kris Kristofferson’s concert at Vienna Stadhalle on November 5th had been planned to coincide with the gathering of a crowd of student protesters outside of the venue. For me anyway it was ideal. I’m not a student anymore, but I sympathize with their plight and so I marched with them all the way to Vienna Stadthalle, to then move on over a few steps and enter a whole different universe, or so it seemed, when I saw the people, who were going to see country rebel and legend Kristofferson with me that evening.

I had expected an entirely different crowd, more in the direction of Grizzly Adams on the men’s side and an aged but still subversive Janis Joplin type on the women’s side, yet the people who waited to enter the concert hall seemed to belong to an entirely different breed. They appeared to be more like the people you would encounter at a rather provincial Austrian train station. A diverse mix of men and women; on average a little older.

So here I was in the midst of this curious crowd of Austrian Kristofferson lovers and wherever I turned I would see yet another peculiar looking person. There would be older men, with receding hairlines, heavier set women with shiny satin blouses, gentlemen type men with suits and tie, middle aged women in close fitting dresses, that seemed a bit too tight already, older couples, who looked like they had just left the weekly seniors’ club meeting, and finally, three rare examples of the Austrian country western aficionado, who finally got a chance to show off their bootlace ties and exclusively embroidered western shirts.

Even more so was it comforting to know that a crowd so incredibly diverse could share a common interest: the music of Kris Kristofferson, who hit the stage almost on time shortly after 8 pm, equipped only with a guitar and a harmonica. And I’m quite sure that nobody in the audience was disappointed that evening, because it didn’t take much to notice that these vastly different people were, each and everyone of them, die-hard Kristofferson followers. You’d see them when you turned and looked around, you didn’t even have to search long and you’d be able to spot them all over the place, the true believers, the ones who would sit in their seats and whose lips would silently form every single word Kristofferson was singing right in that moment when you looked at them and together with this prayer-like form of adoration you’d see this expression on their faces, a mixture of melancholy and understanding. Always seeming to say something like „I know what you’re saying, I’ve been there too“.

Kristofferson started the show with „Closer to the Bone“ which shares the same title as his latest album, and with just a small break during the concert he went through an impressive catalogue of songs such as „Me and Bobby McGee“, „Help Me Make It Through the Night“, “Love Don’t Live Here Anymore“, „Final Attraction“, „Sandinista“, „Silver Tongued Devil and I“ or „Sunday Mornin’ Comin’ Down“.

I am quite sure – no actually I am sure – that Kris Kristofferson was just as pleased as his audience that night, because there was this very special moment at the end of the concert, a moment that, if it wasn’t real, at least would be something that distinguishes a great artist from an average artist. He had just played his last song, or so it appeared, the audience was enthusiastic and he seemed to really be enjoying the love which was thrown at him, when he stopped and considered for just a second and then turned to us and said: “Wait, I’ve got another one for you“. That’s when he bid us farewell with the lovely, endearing „Don’t Tell Me How the Story Ends“, which starts like this:

This could be our last good night together; we may never pass this way again; just let me enjoy it ’til it’s over, or forever; please don’t tell me how the story ends.

Or I should say almost bid us farewell, because after Kristofferson had finished playing he spent yet another twenty minutes signing what seemed an endless amount of pictures, CDs and ticket-stubs his admirers had brought along for just that opportunity. As for me, I shook Kris Kristofferson’s hand that night and went home happy.

Susanne, November 8 2009

Eines kann man mit ziemlicher Sicherheit vorausschicken: Kris Kristofferson hat es gut gefallen in Wien. Nicht nur hat er einen wunderschönen Abend in der Halle F der Wiener Stadthalle gestaltet, sondern nach einem fast zweistündigen Konzert, das durch eine kleine Pause unterbrochen war, auch noch an die zwanzig Minuten die mitgebrachten Bilder, CDs und Tickets seiner treuen Anhänger signiert.

Man hätte es kaum besser planen können, lief doch der Protestmarsch der Studenten an jenem grauen, nasskalten 5. November passenderweise bis zum Märzplatz und ich musste von dort nur ein paar Meter zurücklegen, um zur bis dato noch nie besuchten neuen Halle zu gelangen. Ich fand es auch thematisch treffend, sich nach erfolgter Solidarisierung mit einer guten Sache einen Singer/Songwriter anzuhören, der sich selbst in diversen Protestbewegungen verdient gemacht hatte. Deshalb war ich auch einigermaßen erstaunt über das Publikum, dass sich an diesem Abend die Country-Folk Legende Kristofferson ansehen wollte. Ich hatte nicht nur aufgrund des Song-Katalogs, sondern auch wegen des Genres, zumindest optisch, mit einem gänzlich anderen Spektrum an Leuten gerechnet. Eher im Stile von „Der Mann in den Bergen“ bei den Männern und vielleicht einer älter gewordenen, aber immer noch subversiven Janis Joplin bei den Frauen. Vielleicht habe ich doch zu viele Jahre in den USA verbracht, auf jeden Fall hätte sich die erwartete Menschenmenge von der tatsächlich sich eingefunden habenden kaum stärker unterscheiden können. Da gab es ältere Herren mit kaum noch vorhandenem Haar, dickere Damen mit glitzernden Satinblusen, aufgebrezelte Frauen, die nicht mehr so ganz ins hautenge Wollkleid passten, sich aber für den Abend eine strahlende neue Blondierung geleistet hatten, ältere Ehepaare, die man vermutlich auch auf einem Schlagerkonzert antreffen könnte fanden sich genauso ein, wie Gentlemen im Anzug, Frauen im Businesskostüm, oder einige wenige jüngere Zuhörer und schließlich sah ich sogar noch einen Herrn, der stolz sein aufwändig besticktes Westernhemd ausführte sowie zwei Männer, die sich für den Abend mit einer sogenannten „Bootlace Tie“ schön gemacht hatten. Bis auf die letzteren Country-Exemplare, würde ich mit einer derartigen Menschenmischung auch auf einem, vielleicht etwas provinzielleren, Bahnhof rechnen – eher älteres Durchschnittsalter, aber vollkommen bunt durcheinander gewürfelt.

Trotzdem, oder gerade deshalb, war es schön zu sehen, dass all diese gänzlich unterschiedlichen Menschen in den kommenden Stunden etwas gemeinsam hatten, dass alle einem Mann an den Lippen hingen: Kris Kristofferson, der fast pünktlich kurz nach 20 Uhr, ganz allein mit Gitarre und Mundharmonika ausgerüstet, die Bühne betrat. Und es sollte keiner von ihnen enttäuscht werden, auch ich nicht, denn obwohl ich keine große Freundin von Sitzkonzerten bin, hat es nicht lange gedauert bis diese ganz besondere Atmosphäre, die Kristofferson durch seine warme, tiefe Stimme und seine nachdenklich-melancholischen Lyrics an diesem Abend bis zum letzten Winkel der Halle verströmen ließ, die ungeteilte Aufmerksamkeit der Zuhörerschaft fand. Andächtig, fast religiös, saßen und horchten die Leute im Publikum, denn wenn man zwischendurch in die Reihen blickte, suchte man nicht lange und fand den einen oder die andere, deren Lippen die Wort für Wort verinnerlichten Textzeilen mitformten, samt dazugehörig verklärtem Blick.

Kristofferson eröffnete den Abend mit „Closer to the Bone“, einem Song aus dem gleichnamigen, jüngsten veröffentlichten, Album (welches ich übrigens sehr empfehlen kann), und hantelte sich durch ein abwechslungsreiches Programm, in dem sich unter anderem Songs wie „Love Don’t Live Here Anymore“ oder „Final Attraction“, die Klassiker „Me And Bobby McGee“ oder „Help Me Make It Through the Night”, Kompositionen wie „Sandinista“, „Silver Tongued Devil and I“ oder „Sunday Mornin’ Comin’ Down“ befanden. Schließlich neigte sich der Abend dem Ende zu und ich denke, dass es auch Kristofferson gefallen hat, hatte er doch gerade die letzten Akkorde des vermeintlich letzten Liedes gespielt, als er sichtlich bewegt von der Zuwendung durch das Publikum einen Moment lang in sich zu gehen schien und dann meinte „Wait, I’ve got another one for you“ und das rührende „Don’t Tell Me How the Story Ends“ anstimmte. Ein Lied, das mit folgenden Zeilen beginnt:

This could be our last good night together; we may never pass this way again; just let me enjoy it ’til it’s over, or forever; please don’t tell me how the story ends.

Man mag diese Passage interpretieren wie man will, manche würden vielleicht auch eine Vorahnung Kristoffersons herauslesen wollen, schließlich ist der gute Mann mittlerweile 73 Jahre alt, ich halte mich an das an jenem Abend Erlebte: ein absolut fitter, inspirierender Songwriter, der die gute Stimmung im Saal in sich aufsog und sie, so wie alle Anwesenden, bis zur allerletzten Minute auskosten wollte.

Das hat er schließlich auch und in einem dem Konzert folgendenen Autogramm-Marathon nahezu allen Fans ihre mitgebrachten Devotionalien signiert. Mich schließlich hat Kris Kristofferson mit einem herzlichen festen Händedruck auf den Nachhauseweg geschickt – möge er noch lange leben und häufig nach Wien zurückkehren.

Susanne, 7. November 2009

Einer der ganz Großen des US-Country ist diese Woche auf daytrotter.com zu hören: Kris Kristofferson. Der Sänger gilt gemeinsam mit Waylon Jennings und Johnny Cash als einer bekanntesten Vertreter des Outlaw Country, der sich bewusst vom glattgeleckten Nashville-Country abzustzen versuchte.

Auf Daytrotter ist Kris Kristofferson mit vier Songs seines jüngsten Albums “Closer to the bone” zu hören, die übrigens kostenfrei heruntergeladen werden können. Der Albumtitel passt perfekt zu der Session, den die Aufnahme erinnert sowohl musikalisch als auch von der Stimmung her, den American Recordings von Johnny Cash und Rick Rubin.

Weitere Sessions diese Woche auf Daytrotter.com sind Pokey LaFarge & The South City Three, White Rabbits, Shelley Short, Ribbons und the Antlers.

Kristoffersons bekannteste Songs sind “Me and Bobby McGee” und “Sunday Morning is comming down”, welches Johnny Cash coverte und deshalb auf fast jeder Johnny Cash-Best of zu finden ist. Auch als Schauspieler schrieb Kristofferson Geschichte. Zum einen als Hauptdarsteller in dem Truckermovie “Convoy”, in dem sich amerikanische Fernfahrer sehr eindrucksvoll gegen korrupte Cops zur Wehr setzen, und zum anderen als Hauptdarsteller im teuersten Western aller Zeiten, “Heaven’s Gate”, der als größter Hollywood-Flop aller Zeiten gilt, da er  die gesschätzten 100 Millionen Dollar Produktionskosten bei weitem verfehlte. Manchmal kann man den Film nachts auf Kabel 1 sehen.

Kris Kristofferson appeared on Tavis Smiley’s public television show Monday. If you didn’t see it, the link will get you “Closer to the Bone.”

A Hawaiian word meaning “foreigner”; this term, which predates Captain James Cook’s 1778 arrival in Hawaii, has also come to refer more generally to Caucasians; another Hawaiian nickname for white people—especially tourists—is “shahkbait”; you don’t want to be called shahkbait; some time ago, I found myself in Maui—with my father; we spent a few days at a hotel called Mama’s Fish House, by the beach in Paia (a laid-back town that’s home to Willie Nelson and Kris Kristofferson); my dad enjoyed himself in Paia; he ate; “I appreciate any culture that makes Spam a staple,” said my dad; I tried to keep dad from ordering dessert after every meal—pineapple upside down cake, coconut pie, haupia—but in my heart, I knew it wasn’t a battle worth fighting; rather, I knew I couldn’t win; my dad has a big personality—and Type 2 Diabetes; on our last day in Maui, we woke up at dawn to drive the winding Hana Highway; we visited a famous break called “Jaws” and watched local surfers from the safety of the shore along with other oglers; a Rastafarian with a longboard gave us the finger and called us “shahkbait”; road signs were, mostly, missing (supposedly yanked down by locals to discourage adventurous haoles—like us); we stopped at a wayside park called Kaumahina, which had a stunning view—and a prominent sign reading “no soliciting”—but dad and I were more interested in the family of feral cats that comingled with a band of aggressive, wild chickens; I fed the chickens bits of my apple core; dad gave them Hershey’s kisses; the next day, we drove to the airport in Kahului; with an hour to kill, we went to a shopping center with a Borders and a Starbucks; my father and I got into a fight when he ordered an Iced Caffe Mocha and an Old Fashioned; I asked him not to eat so much dessert—at least in front of me; he reminded me that he’s my father, that I can become patronizing and idiotic, and then he proceeded to order a second Old Fashioned; I couldn’t watch; I went to Borders and looked at a picture book about large jungle cats; two hours later, my father and I boarded different flights; on the plane, I kept mentally replaying the incident in Starbucks, and I became upset for being so controlling; my father likes doughnuts, it’s that simple; he’s 63; I should’ve let him eat his Starbucks doughnuts in peace; at one point in Hawaii, the last day of the school year was known as “Kill Haole Day”; Kill Haole Day seems to be a tropical cousin of “Beat Up a White Kid Day,” which coincides with May 1^st—May Day; Beat Up a White Kid Day has been a long-standing tradition in Cleveland public schools; seriously; while I am no supporter of random violence, this seems to be a fascinating inversion of traditional race/power dynamics; in “Maximum City,” Suketu Mehta’s analysis of Hindu-Muslim violence in Mumbai, he writes eloquently about “the powerful wish of minorities all over the world to be the oppressor rather than the oppressed”; for me, this is a troubling, cynical thought; I’d prefer an alternate path, one where—as Will Oldham (aka Bonnie ‘Prince’ Billy) sings: “You do what you want/And I will do what I want/I’m now free of master and everyone/servant of all and servant of none”; that being said, I’m not one to speak: my father and I recently had a two-hour-long quarrel about a box of Thin Mints.

A new feature debuted Wednesday night in Dan The Man Trivia, and it shook up the standings. The Hero or Zero question allows teams to wager 5 to 20 points on the final question of the night.

Two teams that traditionally finish near the top — Dirty Dixies and Chasin’ Trivia — bet 20 points on the Hero or Zero Question and took a major hit. By losing 20 points, t he Dixies finished in last place, something that has never happened to the team.

Clever Team Name and Simple Minded conservatively wagered 5 points and it paid off big as the teams finished in first and second place for the night with a comfortable lead on the rest of the pack.

The Hero or Zero question was “What National League team was the last to win back-to-back World Series titles?” The answer: The Cincinnati Reds.

Guys & Dolls and Clever Team Name won free rounds of beer during the night.

Trivial tidbits from the night included:

• Former Los Angeles Rams quarterback Pat Haden, and actor/country music singer Kris Kristofferson were Rhodes Scholars.
• Plennie Wingo is best known as the man who set the Guinness World Record by walking backwards for 8,000 miles.
• Purple horseshoes were added to Lucky Charms cereal in 1984.

Standings:

• 1. Clever Team Name – 86 points
• 2. Simple Minded – 72
• 3. Empty Glasses – 69
• 4. Guys & Dolls – 68
• 4. Chasin’ Trivia – 68
• 6. Wayne’s World – 66
• 7. Team Mas – 58
• 8. Dirty Dixies – 55

“Like a bird on the wire/Like a drunk in a midnight choir/I have tried in my way to be free.” Leonard Cohen

“Freedom’s just another word for nothing left to lose/And nothing left was all she left to me.” Kris Kristofferson

“There is no easy walk to freedom anywhere, and many of us will have to pass through the valley of the shadow of death again and again before we reach the mountaintop of our desires.” Nelson Mandela

“O Himmel! Rettung! Welch’ ein Glück!/O Freiheit! Freiheit, kehrst du zurück?” From Beethoven’s Fidelio

“Tolling for the aching ones whose wounds cannot be nursed/For the countless confused, accused, misused, strung-out ones and worse/And for every hung-up person in the whole wide universe/And we gazed upon the chimes of freedom flashing.” Bob Dylan