Insider music biz stuff should in most cases stay that way because normal folk, what I like to call "civilians," don't care about who said what to whom in the bowels of some label HQ in Burbank or Manhattan. There's also something pitifully self-indulgent and exclusionary and ultimately pathetic about people who are in the know about the music biz and live to tell you about it.
"I wasn't scared," says Huckleberry. "I've seen Bagheera royally PO'd." Actually, he's generally the cause.
Oh, it's just Bagheera.
Skunk Baxter has a new gig. After all, Steely Dan goes for years between tours.
Jon Carroll has a fine <A HREF="http://www.sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?file=/chronicle/archive/2007/…; this morning (no surprise there) that meanders from his thoughts on <I>Die Hard</I> (very Aristotlian) to the making of the Jeep and how the humvee influences our presence in Iraq.
As I venture further into the hi-fi universe, I can start to understand what I like and what to listen for in my equipment: natural musical delivery, groove, and clarity. I'm excited.
<I>Cafe Aman</I> posts an Antonio Machado poem, thanking Osvaldo Golijov for introducing him to it. I wish I could name drop OG—I think that he and Jennifer Higdon are the most consistently satisfying composers writing today.
I'm a total Neil Gaiman fanboy, so I'm giddy with anticipation of the theatrical release of <I>Stardust</I> tomorrow. I just re-read the book and was delighted to find it as charming as when I first devoured it in 1999.
Mitch Albom's essay on Barry Bonds is so sharply written I can almost forgive him for the two hours I spent reading <I>The Five People You Meet In Heaven</I> that I will never get back.
Richard Schickel ruminates on an American art form.