Category: A Good Read, A Good Listen and a Good Drink

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A Good Read A Good Listen and A Good Drink: Oiseaux-Tempête

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It’s a simple yet sublime pleasure, and just thinking about it can make you feel a little calmer, a little more content. Imagine: You bring out one of the good rocks glasses (or your favorite mug or a special occasion tea cup) and pour a couple fingers of amber liquid (or something dark and strong or just some whole milk). You drop the needle on the jazz platter (or pull up a blues album on your mp3 player or dig out that mixtape from college). Ensconcing yourself in the coziest seat in the house, you crack the spine on a classic (or find your place in that sci-fi paperback or pull up a biography on your e-book reader). And then, you go away for a while. Ah, bliss.

In this series, some of NTSIB’s friends share beloved albums, books and drinks to recommend or inspire.

Oiseaux-Tempête, more or less of Paris, are an ever-changing entity. An iteration of the band that includes Frédéric D. Oberland and Stéphane Pigneul (FareWell Poetry and Le Réveil des Tropiques), Ben McConnell (Beach House, FareWell Poetry, Marissa Nadler) and bass clarinet virtuoso Gareth Davis (Elliott Sharp and Robin Rimbaud (aka Scanner)) have just released ÜTOPIYA?, the follow-up to their first, self-titled record.

In Oiseaux-Tempête, the band ventured to Greece to capture the sounds of political upheaval – not protest songs, but the ambient noises, and the sense of menace, the feeling of frustration, boiling over. For ÃœTOPIYA? they visited Sicily and Istanbul. The result is a complex and compelling work that mixes jazz elements with bright electronic tones, aggressive, dissonant feedback and the sense that even during seismic change, sometimes people do sit outside and listen to nightbirds singing.

As a taste, here is Omen: Divided We Fall:

And with that, I will turn the floor over to the band, who are joining us today – all four of them, a very special treat – to share a favorite book, record and drink.

 

OISEAUX-TEMPÊTE, 2015; photo by Pamela Maddaleno

OISEAUX-TEMPÊTE, 2015; photo by Pamela Maddaleno

A GOOD READ
 
FRÉDÉRIC D. OBERLAND: Guy Debord, Oeuvres Cinématographiques Complètes / Complete Cinematic Works. This book came into my hands late 90’s when it was almost impossible to find any of Guy Debord’s films to watch. The goal was fascinating: trying to understand and to enjoy these stunning film-essays just with the film scripts, without the actual image or sound. The narration is transcribed and you can find between the lines an informative depiction of what is happening on the screen and in the speakers. Reading the hopeful melancholy of In Girum Imus Nocte Et Consumimur Igni, I feel this just as much in my bones as in my mind: poetry and social revolution could be so easily related. Both are coming from the same vibrant, primal, essential breath.

STÉPHANE PIGNEUL: Héros-Limite from Ghérasim Luca. I’ve always thought that the best poets are the ones who write in a language different from their mother tongue. Luca as Cioran, is Romanian and was a kind of surrealist despite the fact he was never affiliated to the actual. Although he mastered the French language, he tweaked it in a new way, made to be spoken more than read, in a very musical way. The love for the words, the language, and of course with his famous sense of humour can be felt in every text he wrote. His poems are an excellent source of inspiration for those who want to write too, and be off the beaten track.

GARETH DAVIS: Bohumil Hrabal’s Too Loud A Solitude. I picked this up in Prague the first time I was there. There was an English language bookshop that was a fair walk from where I was staying, but it had the distinct advantage of being one of the few places to accept cards (at that time), a deciding factor as I was leaving on a train that evening to Budapest and had judged my cash supply in koruna down to the last bottle of water before departure. So I trekked over to the shop and picked up what was essentially a random pile of books for the train journeys ahead.

I’m guessing I must have read this five or six times over the following three or so weeks. Without giving too much away, it’s the story of man working 35 years compacting wastepaper and books, a process which has lead him to acquire an education so unwitting he’s unable to tell which thoughts are his own and which come from the books he has rescued from the hydraulic press. It is a novel of such incredible extremes, comedy, pathos, sophistication, sex and violence. An observance of sorts of the indestructibility of the written word.

BEN MCCONNELL: Paul Bowles’ masterpiece, The Sheltering Sky, is a powerful and eerie novel which traces the wanderings of three Americans throughout Morocco and the Sahara Desert following the end of WWII. A sense of unease, or even dread, permeates these characters as they journey deeper and deeper into the vast expanse of the Sahara, tirelessly searching for a sense of meaning or purpose in their lives in a desperate attempt to escape the stifling conventions and stale consumerism of western society.

Plagued by blinding sun, sickness, and thieves, all does not end well for these three; and it could be the ending itself which is this novel’s crowning achievement, taking an unexpected and horrific turn into an even further unknown, more treacherous then they – or us – could have ever imagined.

A GOOD LISTEN
 
FRÉDÉRIC D. OBERLAND: My instant choice could have been the boxset Claire Denis Film Scores 1996-2009 (Constellation, 2012) from Tindersticks.  Five LPs to listen to and to enjoy the way you want when you’re feeling moody. But this Kime Ne’ 12″ (Aboov Plak, 2013) I discovered last summer in Istanbul is a hidden masterpiece to dance to and to make love under the rain. The project is called iNSALAR and includes Cem Yıldız (on vocals, baÄŸlama and electronics), Barış K (on electronics) and Hogır (on percussion and vocal percussion). The lyrics are adapted from poems by 17th century Turkish poet musician Kul Nesimi (Ben Melamet Hirkasini) and 16th century icon Pir Sultan Abdal (Otme Bulbul). Play it loud and look at the way you’re shaking the head. Yes, Side A and B are exactly the same, and now you know why.

STÉPHANE PIGNEUL: Carnage Visors: The Cure. My choice at the moment if you ask, in part because I just borrowed the fantastic drum machine DR-55 from a friend, and that track was written with it. It’s the longest track Smith ever put on tape, something like 28 minutes, instrumental, minimal, a bit dark but super warm in the sound. Also the structure is something really smart, just as Smith always does with guitars. He composed it on bass, starting the harmony in E going through A and D then finishing in G, which are the open strings of a bass . . . A super intelligent approach, indeed.

It was proposed for a 30 minutes stop motion film the brother of the bass player did, and was projected before the 1981-shows they used to do. Only 30 seconds of this film can be found on the internet, kind of mysterious, after all these years and the power of the web . . . A kind of myth in The Cure sphere! Again, a super source of inspiration for those who want to make music. At least it has worked for me since I’m 15 . . . !

the cure - carnage visors

GARETH DAVIS: Erewhon, the debut record from David Thomas and the Two Pale Boys (Cooking Vinyl, 1996). In the 90s in London the choices for TV were, in most cases, still either four channels or a satellite dish. And then came cable. The introduction was a somewhat sporadic affair, and how many extra channels this meant become immediately available, I don’t remember. Only two have stuck in my mind from the first batch. One that was called Bravo on which I watched 1930s episodes of Flash Gordon with my father, and the other, MTV, back when they still actually played music.

There was a show called Alternative Nation on Sunday evenings and somewhere between the Tindersticks and a feature on The Crow soundtrack came this David Thomas live set. It must have taken around two months to track down the CD, a job made considerably more difficult as I’d not quite heard the name properly and didn’t know what the album was called. After 20 years I’m still constantly going back to this album. For anyone acquainted with Pere Ubu, it’s not going to be all that surprising a piece of work, but there’s also something, I think, a little different. A kind of urgency, unsurprising as there’s a lot of improvisation, yet at the same time somehow managing to remain decidedly laid back. There’s a live album which was part of the Monster (Cooking Vinyl, 1997) box set, alas not available when it was reissued in 2004. Absolutely excellent material if it’s possible to find, and definitely worth the trouble to look for.

David Thomas And Two Pale Boys live MTV

BEN MCCONNELL: Orchestre Régional de Kayes, The Best of The First Biennale of Arts and Culture For The Young (1970). I discovered this amazing gem through a limited repressing by Mississippi Records a few years back, which was later yanked from the shelves following a legal dispute with the band itself (apparently they had not been notified of its reissue). But in any case, from what I know of this recording, it comes from northern Mali, near the Senagalese border, where every year, or every two years, a type of battle-of-the-bands would occur, and this particular recording came about after the groups’ victory. It also happens to be their only recording, and has never been properly reissued on cd or vinyl, although thankfully it can be found as as a download online.

I played this for Jimmy Page one evening, and he came back to see me then next day to ask me what the name of the group was – he’d been thinking of the guitar solo in Sanjina ever since. And the guitar solo in Sanjina is a perfect example of why I chose this album to accompany the above novel: the syncopated rhythms and crisp guitar tones, to my ears, depict the feeling of the African desert at night, and even sometimes, in a moment of near synesthesia, seem to resemble the silvery shimmering of stars upon the infinite night sky.

Orchestre Regional De Kayes - Sanjini

 

A GOOD DRINK
 
FRÉDÉRIC D. OBERLAND: Michel Couvreur, 12 Year Overaged Malt. Some French whisky, sorry guys! Since 1978 Michel Couvreur imports Scotch whiskies to his facilities in Burgundy, France, where they undergo a slow aging process in Spanish sherry, French burgundy or vin jaune dedicated casks. A dry, smoky and slightly sweet spirit, aromas of almond, tobacco, a generous and spicy palate which apparently remains in the old Victorian whiskies.  A friend of mine first offered me a bottle of this rare elixir 15 years ago – did I say the design of the bottle itself hand-sealed with wax and with the label placed around the corner of the square is exquisite? In a quasi-religious way, I kept this first bottle three years in a secret place, tasting only three sips of this Malt with a 99% dark chocolate square. Now I’m more mature and I love to share it. Sometimes!
 
STÉPHANE PIGNEUL: Un Réveil des Tropiques: a cocktail I created or maybe stole ! As a barman, I used to sell a lot of drinks in the bar. We have this other project with Frédéric and the DR-55 guy – Ad – called Le Réveil des Tropiques. It’s the cocktail I offered the most. Basically, it’s a mojito in which you replace the sparkling water with ginger and brown sugar! Half a glass of rum and mint, lime and the secret ginger, that you have to squeeze yourself of course. Really explosive one, tasty , once you tried it, you want an another one, and another one, and another one and . . .

GARETH DAVIS: I’ve got a thing about coffee. More precisely, espresso. Addiction would be another way of putting it, but perhaps calling it a thing and proving I’m in denial is the way to go. Frédéric told me I drunk all his coffee last time I was in Paris. I was looking for someone else to blame, but it’s not working, so I’ll probably need just bite the bullet and accept it.

Narrowing it down to one particular bean or roast I can’t do, particularly as there seem to be new roasters every other week, but I have noticed there there are a few blends I keep coming back to. Hair Bender from Stumptown seems to get on well with my machine, a rather temperamental lever action Pavoni, although it could just be that I like the name. Ed from Caffènation is another blend I’ve been using a fair bit recently and, to be honest, also the dark roast from my local supermarket which I’m probably not meant to admit out loud, but it’s really pretty good, so I can live with that.

BEN MCCONNELL: In The Sheltering Sky, a story is told of three sisters who journey to the Sahara, following their dream of having tea together while overlooking the sea of dunes, and vaguely hoping to find the handsome and mysterious stranger who had once visited the sisters’ village and made love to all three of them.  The sisters join a caravan which bivouacs under the full moon, then sneak out from camp to find the highest dune from which to have their tea. 

The sisters reach the highest, then see another, higher, in the distance; then another, higher; and wander on continually until they collapse from exhaustion and are later discovered where they lay, atop a dune, their glasses filled with sand. 

Sting wrote the lyrics to Tea In The Sahara based on this episode.  And if I were to recommend a painting to round out this presentation, it would be Henri Rousseau’s la Bohémienne Endormie (or, Sleeping Gypsy) … 

But, I digress, here is the recipe for making Moroccan Mint Tea: 

1 tablespoon gunpowder green tea leaves

1 large handful fresh Moroccan mint, or spearmint leaves, washed

1/2 liter (about 2 cups) boiling water

1/4 cup sugar

Boil at least a liter of water.  Rinse a small tea pot with about 1/4 cup of the water.

Add the tea leaves and another 1/4 cup boiling water. Swirl the pot to wash and rinse the leaves, and pour out the water.

Add the mint leaves and the sugar, and fill the pot with 1/2 liter (about 2 cups) boiling water.  Leave the tea to steep for five minutes or longer, or set the tea pot over medium-low heat and bring the tea to a simmer. Remove from the heat, and allow to steep several minutes more.

Gently stir the tea, pour into small tea glasses and serve.  It might be worth adding that Moroccans take pride in pouring their tea from a significant height, which aside from being visually impressive, serves to aerate the tea and heighten the flavor.  
 

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A Good Read A Good Listen and A Good Drink, Adam Sturgeon, WHOOP-Szo

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It’s a simple yet sublime pleasure, and just thinking about it can make you feel a little calmer, a little more content. Imagine: You bring out one of the good rocks glasses (or your favorite mug or a special occasion tea cup) and pour a couple fingers of amber liquid (or something dark and strong or just some whole milk). You drop the needle on the jazz platter (or pull up a blues album on your mp3 player or dig out that mixtape from college). Ensconcing yourself in the coziest seat in the house, you crack the spine on a classic (or find your place in that sci-fi paperback or pull up a biography on your e-book reader). And then, you go away for a while. Ah, bliss.

In this series, some of NTSIB’s friends share beloved albums, books and drinks to recommend or inspire.

WHOOP-Szo is a fluid musical collective currently operating out of Guelph/London, Ontario, Canada. Previously they were my most favorite purveyor of tone-poems inspired by the Canadian Arctic, but with Mirror North, the a-side of their offering for Record Store Day, things have taken a turn for the sludgy.

The record/song was created by an incarnation of the band that featured Adam Sturgeon, Eric Lourenco, Joe Thorner, and Kirsten Palm and recorded at the Quarantine in Port Greville, Nova Scotia with Colleen Collins and Dave Trenaman (Construction & Destruction) and Tim Glasgow (Metric, Sonic Youth).

It arrived in my inbox described as the sound of “a band in a single room; ocean, old cabin, blueberry hill, bear shit and all​” and, well, I don’t have much to add to that, really.

Well, ok, perhaps a few things: It has a certain hypnotic ebb and flow. I keep going back to it to sway along with the drum and meditate on the Baby I’m scared refrain and then be jarred back into alertness by the jagged roar of a guitar at the end. It sounds like the ocean in the sense that it sounds like the feeling of a great big rolling Atlantic breaker coming in, the choice: jump or dive, and the hard tug of the current that signals you’ll get hauled out to sea if you aren’t careful.

And now I turn the floor over to Adam Sturgeon, who has joined us today to share a favorite book, record and drink.

Whoop szo craven cottage-7941

A Good Read:

Kiss of the Fur Queen – Tomson Highway

This book speaks to me. It’s an emotional journey through one individuals life as affected by Residential School. It does a lot in that it makes me think of my own families history, and while notably different there are striking similarities that bring me close to my father and grandfather; building a greater capacity to understand our relationship. Not for the faint of heart, there is a huge let down as you hold hope that one character is different than the impending results.

A Good Listen:

Construction & Destruction – Mutatis Mutandis

How could we record our album with Colleen and Dave and not mention their albums. This one in particular has a ton of appeal for WHOOP-Szo as a band, our favourite track, The Bear:

A Good Drink:

Chaga [tea], [made from] the fungus that grows on Birch trees, a major influence on this record.

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Canadian Music Week: A Good Read A Good Listen and a Good Drink, Mary Caroline

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It’s a simple yet sublime pleasure, and just thinking about it can make you feel a little calmer, a little more content. Imagine: You bring out one of the good rocks glasses (or your favorite mug or a special occasion tea cup) and pour a couple fingers of amber liquid (or something dark and strong or just some whole milk). You drop the needle on the jazz platter (or pull up a blues album on your mp3 player or dig out that mixtape from college). Ensconcing yourself in the coziest seat in the house, you crack the spine on a classic (or find your place in that sci-fi paperback or pull up a biography on your e-book reader). And then, you go away for a while. Ah, bliss.

In this series, some of NTSIB’s friends share beloved albums, books and drinks to recommend or inspire.

For our second Very Special Presentation of A Good Read . . ., we’re jumping all the way up north to Yellowknife, NorthWest Territories, where singer/songwriter Mary Caroline divides her time between television and making indie-folk music.

As an introduction, here are some songs from her debut studio album, Life on Earth:

Songs of Winter is really about the end of winter, and romance blooming again in the spring:

Full Moon is surprisingly mellow, for a song about flying over thin ice and outrunning wolves:

And finally, the one that is probably my favorite, This Is Home, because it encapsulates the feeling of walking in the door and being able to exhale, and the subtle joy of sleeping in your own bed after a long time on the road.

And with that, I turn the floor over to Mary Caroline, who joins us today to share her favorite book, record, and drink.

Mary Caroline

Mary Caroline

A Good Read:

My favorite book is an easy one. It’s The Alchemist, by Paulo Coelho. I read the Alchemist about once a year, and am always left inspired by it. Having just been on the road from January- March, and having very little money while on tour, and at times feeling deflated about my decision to pursue music full time, I would often think of the Sheppard in The Alchemist, and remind myself that following a dream isn’t easy, and isn’t always achieved in the way you expected it to be. Sometimes the harder you work at a goal the further you seem to be getting from it, and then all of the sudden you find yourself in an amazing situation that you always dreamed of.

A Good Listen:

I’m a big fan of Florence and the Machine‘s album, Lungs. I just love Florence Welch’s song writing. Its gritty and beautiful and strong. I’m a pretty solitary song writer, but I sometimes fantasize about polishing off a bottle of scotch with Florence Welch and writing songs together.

Florence +The Machine - Drumming Song

A Good Drink:

My recommended drink was introduced to me this past winter by my American friend, Ariel Benarroch. We work together on a TV show that is filmed in Yellowknife, and on our days off the whole crew would play hockey on an outdoor rink on Great Slave Lake. Each game, Ariel would bring out a thermos of hot buttered rum! Playing hockey in the sub-arctic is quite an experience. The guys would have frost encrusted beards and we would bring out the set lights so we could see the puck past 4pm, but it was really the hot buttered rum between periods that turned the weekly event into a utopic winter scene.

[Ed note: Great Slave Lake’s name has First Nations origins, and is derived from the name given to the local Dene by the Cree, who were their enemies.]

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Canadian Music Week: A Good Read A Good Listen and a Good Drink: Luke Bentham, The Dirty Nil

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It’s a simple yet sublime pleasure, and just thinking about it can make you feel a little calmer, a little more content. Imagine: You bring out one of the good rocks glasses (or your favorite mug or a special occasion tea cup) and pour a couple fingers of amber liquid (or something dark and strong or just some whole milk). You drop the needle on the jazz platter (or pull up a blues album on your mp3 player or dig out that mixtape from college). Ensconcing yourself in the coziest seat in the house, you crack the spine on a classic (or find your place in that sci-fi paperback or pull up a biography on your e-book reader). And then, you go away for a while. Ah, bliss.

In this series, some of NTSIB’s friends share beloved albums, books and drinks to recommend or inspire.

A Good Read normally happens on Fridays, but this week we’re having a Very Special Monday Presentation. In the spotlight today are The Dirty Nil, of Hamilton, Ontario, who have some very exciting plans this summer: they’re headed out on their first Warped Tour.

If you have not already had the pleasure of rocking out with them, here’s a brief introduction.

First up: Guided by Vices, half of the single they released last summer, and an explosion of punk rock joy:

Nicotine, from Smite (2014): a little bit of a slow burner, live, but still raw and propulsive:

And in conclusion, Little Metal Baby Fist, from their 2012 record of the same name. I think it was the first The Dirty Nil song I heard. My reaction was This is where the pit goes off like a rocket, right? which is still how I feel about it today. Hang on to your hats and sunglasses, Warped Tour, it’s going to be a wild moshy ride:

And with that I turn the floor over to lead singer/guitar Luke Bentham, who joins us today to share a favorite book, record and drink.

The Dirty Nil - Luke Bentham is center, in star shirt.

The Dirty Nil – Luke Bentham is center, in star shirt.

A Good Read:

In my lifelong pursuit for the shittiest, trashiest cheese-rock biography, Ace Frehley’s No Regrets currently stands as my holy grail. Of pure fucking cheese. Poorly written and wandering in focus, Ace recounts his booze and coke fueled journey from being an unknown fuck-up to being a world famous multi-millionaire fuck up. He talks about his “well documented” encounters with extra-terrestrials and makes repeated cringe-worthy references to his new CD. Truly a work of questionable quality in every way, No Regrets is a terrible fucking book and definitely one of my favorites.

A Good Listen:

Metallic K.O. by the Stooges is technically a live album, but to me it’s the sound of everything breaking. Recorded in front of a hometown Detroit crowd in ’74, it was the Raw Power-era Stooges’ final stand. Its about 2 hours in length and mostly consists of Iggy Pop taunting the audience as they pelt the band with lighters and bottles. Musically, its rough at best, though James Williamson’s guitar playing is just as fucking thunderous as ever. My favourite part of the entire record is when Iggy leads the band into playing Louie, Louie for like 20 fucking minutes, JUST to piss of the already feverishly aggravated audience. “Missed me FUCKER!! Gonna have to try harder than THAT!” he taunts as you can clearly hear a beer bottle smashing into the stage. Now THAT’S a fucking live album.

https://youtu.be/GhXrQ_eNwuQ

A Good Drink:

Gas station coffee. This is what it’s all about folks. The further from the highway, the better. Its gotta be that black sludge that eats sunshine. Mmmmmm who knows what they’re putting in this stuff? I sure don’t. But it makes me feel like a structural fire, ready to get stuff done.

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A Good Read A Good Listen and A Good Drink, Chuck Hawthorne

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It’s a simple yet sublime pleasure, and just thinking about it can make you feel a little calmer, a little more content. Imagine: You bring out one of the good rocks glasses (or your favorite mug or a special occasion tea cup) and pour a couple fingers of amber liquid (or something dark and strong or just some whole milk). You drop the needle on the jazz platter (or pull up a blues album on your mp3 player or dig out that mixtape from college). Ensconcing yourself in the coziest seat in the house, you crack the spine on a classic (or find your place in that sci-fi paperback or pull up a biography on your e-book reader). And then, you go away for a while. Ah, bliss.

In this series, some of NTSIB’s friends share beloved albums, books and drinks to recommend or inspire.

Chuck Hawthorne, currently of Austin, Texas, released his first record earlier this week. Made after 21 years in the Marines and the product of a chance airport encounter with Ray Bonneville, it’s called Silver Line. Bound To Be Bound is the second song that I listened to; it’s also the one that hooked me and that I was still humming to myself days after I listened to it.

Also excellent is Silver Line, which is a love story about train travel. I listened to it and thought, wistfully, about the times I traveled 3000 miles sitting up and washed my hair in the sink while the iron horse rolled over the mountains.

And now, I turn the floor over to Mr. Hawthorne, who joins us today to tell us some stories about his favorite piece of literature, record and drink:

chuck hawthorne silver line

A Good Read:

Spent a whole week on the University of Texas’ pistol team. A couple of regular members ended up sick right before an out of state pistol match and me and my buddy Josh got volun-told to pack our gear. We did, as good Marines do, and all hopped in a van and headed to the University of Colorado at Boulder. Josh and I got shit-housed the night before the match and may or may not have contributed to UT’s loss of that competition. Hungover, defeated, and fired from the team, we headed back into town.

I stumbled into a store and discovered a coffee table book called, Buckaroo – Visions and Voices of the American Cowboy edited by Hal Cannon and Thomas West. I tucked that book into my grip with the intention of reading it and listening to the included CD when I got home.

But, we ran into a white-out blizzard in New Mexico on our way back and was forced to overnight in a little roadside motel. Josh and I ran – on foot – across the highway in the blizzard to a liquor store to grab libations. Miraculously making it back unharmed, I cracked a cerveza and started thumbing through Buckaroo. The book showcases several notable people of the American west, but one guy in particular caught my eye. His name was Buck Ramsey.

Buck was from Amarillo, Texas, had cowboyed before and after a stint in the Marines and, after a tragic horse wreck left him wheelchair-bound, had become a singing, songwriting, western poet. I’m not talking rhyming horses, bees, and fuckin’ tumbleweeds – I mean world-class literature winning a National Endowment for the Arts amongst many other awards. He was “discovered” after submitting some pieces to the National Cowboy Poetry Gathering in Elko, Nevada. Now, I’m from Amarillo, was a Marine, had spent some time as an inept cowboy, and was a pretty shitty poet and songwriter at the time of this discovery. I set out to meet my new hero . . .

I was playing guitar at the Lonesome Dove Ranch in Liberty Hill, Texas not long after this and was talking to the ranch owner, my good friend and Amarillo native, Steve “Shaman” Shaw. One of us brought up Buck Ramsey and I shouldn’t have been surprised that Steve was a close friend of Buck’s. Holy shit. Steve spent the better part of the day regaling me in these legendary tales of Buck Ramsey. You know, all the good behind the scenes stuff everyone wants to hear. How he could recite Shakespeare sonnets while drunk and bring the party to reverent silence. How The Shaman Steve, a cowboy poet himself, and Buck could trade verses on T.S. Elliot’s The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock. Are you fuckin’ kidding me? I vowed on my next trip to Amarillo, I was going to track down Ramsey and meet him.

I took some leave during Christmas ’97 and sailed north to Amarillo to spend the holidays with family and friends. A day or two after we rang in 1998, I was drinking whisky and playing guitar for another cowboy hero and mentor of mine, Cliff Lowe.

Between drinks and songs, I asked Cliff, “You don’t happen to know a guy by the name of Buck Ramsey, do you?” Cliff says, “Buck? Hell, let’s call the sonofabitch!” With that, he picked up the receiver to the green rotary phone by his chair and dialed up Ramsey. Buck’s wife answered the phone. Turns out, Buck wasn’t feeling well but would be up for a visit the next day at 9 AM, sharp. Couldn’t believe it.

Taking my leave from Cliff and with plans to meet the next day for my introduction to Buck Ramsey, I headed out. Linked up with my amigo Brandon “Brand Iron” King. We grabbed our guitars in search of a bar that would have us. We didn’t book gigs back then – we just showed up with attitude. Ended up at Cecil’s bar way out on the east side of town and we put on a little show for the folks. I announced to the three people in the crowd that tomorrow I was to meet the Amarillo legend, Buck Ramsey. A drunk shouted out, “He just passed away!” I dismissed him as being too far gone for reality. We finished up our set and shut down the bar.

Driving the back roads to Brand Iron’s house, we slid off the muddy road into a ditch. Hopelessly stuck, Brandon’s wife Raelynn had to come to our rescue pleased to be woken up in the early morning hours, I’m sure.

Abandoning my truck and with muddy boots, we loaded up in her rig and she handed me an early morning edition of the Amarillo paper saying, “I’m sorry, Chuck.” The drunk had been right. Front cover story of the passing of Buck Ramsey.

At daylight, I called up Steve Shaw down in Liberty Hill to break the bad news. “I’ll be there in six hours.”

I rode Shaw’s coattails to get into the funeral. Felt a bit like an imposter, having never met the man, but I wanted to at least pay my respect. Cowboys, writers, poets, and musicians from all over the country showed up. Oddly, I saw my high school Marine ROTC instructor there, LtCol John Regal. Turns out he and Buck were roommates in college. The web of Buck Ramsey was spun pretty intricately I was learning.

After the service, we all crowded into a steak house. Buck’s wife, Bette was holding court to all the well-wishers, friends, and fans. Still feeling awkward for even being there, I went and grabbed my guitar from my freshly un-stuck truck at Steve Shaw’s insistence. Shaw had them turn off the house music and I sheepishly started in on some forgotten song. About 20 folks left as soon as I started picking and I just knew I was fucking this up – running everyone off. But, it wasn’t long before they all returned toting instruments. The jam was on. I remember some guy in Michael Martin Murphey’s band playing my guitar and me playing a song for Buck’s widow and rendering some small words of condolence.

Many years later, I was at a diner in Stoughton, Wisconsin grabbing some chow before a Ramblin’ Jack Elliott show. Jack and his road manager entered the diner. Seizing the opportunity to meet another hero and legend, I stepped up to Jack and introduced myself.

“Jack, my name is Chuck Hawthorne.”
“Pleased to meet you. Where you from?”
“Amarillo, Texas”
“My God, Amarillo? Did you know Buck Ramsey?”

A good read . . . Anthem by Buck Ramsey.

Between Grass & Sky: Rhythms of a Cowboy Poem

P.S. Campfire recitation of Anthem by Steve “Shaman” Shaw beats reading it, every time.

A Good Listen:

Found out Ramblin’ Jack Elliott and Guy Clark were doing a show in Conroe, Texas. Must’ve been 2010 or so. I was going through a divorce, about to leave the Marine Corps, and was stuck at my duty station in Milwaukee, Wisconsin at the time. I said, “To hell with this. I’m going to fly down to Austin, spend a night in the Driskill Hotel, and then go catch that Conroe show.” Guy wrote a song called, Ramblin’ Jack and Mahan about a drunken night Guy, Jack, and Larry Mahan had spent at the Driskill during Jerry Jeff Walker’s Birthday Bash…this was my reasoning.

At the rental car counter in the Austin airport, the gal asked me, “Would you like to upgrade to a Mustang?”

“Hell yes.” Pretty poetic, I thought.

I sailed that Pony right out of the airport to the convenience store and picked up a case of beer. Now my luggage included two pieces: a guitar and beer. Got to the Driskill and drove around looking for a parking space. Parking in downtown Austin is notoriously difficult. After making 3 or 4 loops, I stopped and asked the doorman where in the hell I could park.

“It’s valet parking, sir.”

“Oh.”

Next thing I knew, a bellhop grabbed my “luggage” and was trying his best not to laugh. It’s my big weekend and I was tipping everyone $20 bills. I was down $60 by the time I got to room 436. I decided to call up my friend and amazing songwriter, Tim Henderson – the man Townes Van Zandt said was the ” . . . best songwriter I know.” He agreed to meet me for a jam session. I was pretty stoked. Called up some other friends, Marcus and Chandra Ward, and told them to bring their guitars for a chance to meet and jam with Tim by God Henderson. I had no idea that this would be the last time I ever saw Tim.

Tim brought his Spanish flaminco guitar he’d bought in Spain in 1963.  Same one he’s always used. It was a freshman dance for who was going to play first… Tim invited me to open up his guitar case and pick flaminco.  I inspected the guitar first. The fingerboard was deepened from the thousands of miles Tim’s hands had put on it, mostly on the low end.  The top had aged a gorgeous orange.  The finish on the back was worn in a circular pattern from connecting with Tim’s gut…I started picking on it.  Buzz back and missed notes…the board was wider than I was used to.  I scratched out the melody to Tim’s Maria Consuela.  If anyone noticed, they didn’t say. I handed the guitar over to Marcus for his inspection and he loosely picked on it for a while. 

Tim started regaling us in stories varying from old “feud country” songs and 11th century melodies to his family history. Now, Tim was a genius – literally. Spoke seven different languages. Marcus and Tim started talking music theory. All that shit flew right over my head. Tim spoke about the old Austin days: Tom Russell, Nanci Griffith, and James McMurtry. We all traded songs pretty late into the night. So, Marcus, Chandra, and I can all say we got a personal concert by Tim Henderson – magic.

Came time for Tim to go, so we all escorted him down to the lobby.  I was hauling the flaminco. There was this beautiful young woman in a brown and white slip dress standing there all alone looking a little pensive. I spotted her right away and Tim did too. I know because as the rest of us waited on the valet to bring his car, Tim lightly strolled his 70-something years over to her to say hello. She responded in broken English. He immediately picked up on the accent and replied in French. She was blown away. They proceeded to chat away in her native language and I saw Tim hand her one of his CDs.  Tim’s car arrived. I put his guitar in the back seat and shook his hand as he left.  Frenchy stood curbside with all of us and watched as he drove away.

Once he disappeared from sight, she looked at me and in her broken English said simply, “What a beautiful man.” Indeed.

A good listen . . . Tim Henderson’s The Wind Knows My Name.

Maria Consuela Arroyo

A Good Drink

My brand leans towards “Wet & Free” – though Coors yellow-bellies have long been a staple of an admittedly voracious love of drink I was blessed with. My “Wet & Free” policy has led to some fuckin’ doozies.

A bad drink . . . Army high command in Iraq, who were also in charge of us lowly Marines, created General Order #1: a general ban on the consumption of alcohol in deference to Muslim religious practices. It always struck me as absolutely ridiculous for various reasons, chiefly that prohibition practices in a combat zone had the predictable results to anyone familiar with human behavior or American history. Yes, we drank. Also, General Order #1? Number One? I think my Number One General Order would involve anything else related to the mission, but what the hell do I know?

Christmas Eve in Baghdad. I was part of a little 11-man advisor team on an Iraqi military base. Things were quiet and we were all overdue for a good cork-pull and bottle-hoisting session. Plus, it was Christmas dammit! What better holiday to show no regard for any religious practices – Christian or Muslim – and get drunk?

Some kind soul from stateside had smuggled us in a good bottle of scotch through the mail hidden, appropriately, in a Cap’n Crunch cereal box. Salute and salut. But 11 Marines and one bottle is simply poor math. The scotch was not savored and sipped as scotch was meant to be. Rather, it was swilled in record time and we all sat looking at each other with shit-eating grins in the knowledge that a genuine hoist-fest had commenced.

Undeterred by the empty bottle, we had our Iraqi interpreters go out in town in search of more liquor. Turns out Iraqi prohibition works the same as it did for the Americans. I’ve no knowledge of how or where they found it, but they soon returned with an ample supply of something wet and in their kindness and respect for “our” holiday, the drinks were on them.

I’ve also no knowledge of how any of us retained our eyesight. Bathtub gin? Please . . . Don’t know what it was called and couldn’t pronounce it if I did; but this rot-gut shit must’ve been brewed in a garbage ditch and filtered through a dirty sock. THE absolute worst shit that has ever been my sorry pleasure to drink. We polished off every bottle.

A good drink . . . El Corazon Anejo tequila – preferably gratis.

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A Good Read A Good Listen and A Good Drink: Lylit

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It’s a simple yet sublime pleasure, and just thinking about it can make you feel a little calmer, a little more content. Imagine: You bring out one of the good rocks glasses (or your favorite mug or a special occasion tea cup) and pour a couple fingers of amber liquid (or something dark and strong or just some whole milk). You drop the needle on the jazz platter (or pull up a blues album on your mp3 player or dig out that mixtape from college). Ensconcing yourself in the coziest seat in the house, you crack the spine on a classic (or find your place in that sci-fi paperback or pull up a biography on your e-book reader). And then, you go away for a while. Ah, bliss.

In this series, some of NTSIB’s friends share beloved albums, books and drinks to recommend or inspire.

Lylit, of Austria, is a classically trained pianist and jazz vocalist who studied at the Bruckner Conservatory in Linz, Austria. Now she’s brought her considerable talents to bear on pop music, and is releasing her first record today, called Unknown. It’s a collaboration with producer/drummer Andreas Lettner; Unknown is the first single from that record, and it is really great.

I liked it because it has a killer beat and is essentially about the joys of backflipping into the slipstream and calling the landing as you’re coming down.

And now, here is Lylit, to share a favorite book, record and drink.

Lylit_Unknown

A Good Read:

When I think of a good book, i think of the writer Martin Suter. He’s been fascinating me with his creations for years now. I read his novel A Perfect Friend in, I think, two days- I just couldn’t stop. A young man, called Fabio Rossi, finds himself waking up in the arms of a stranger, who claims to be his girlfriend and missing his entire memory of the last 50 days. His old girlfriend is now living with his best friend, his beloved ones turned their backs on him and his whole life seems to have changed in these last and lost weeks. From that moment on he tries to retrace his steps to find out the truth and getting to know his new life, while trying to get back his old one.

[Editor’s note: I could only find A Perfect Friend in German and French, but a few of his other novels, including The Chef, are available in English.]

A Good Listen:

My favourite soundtrack to this book would be the album Bon Iver by Bon Iver. It always makes me wander around in my own past, my memories and dream about things that might come.

Bon Iver - Perth (Deluxe)

A Good Drink:

If I had to choose a drink that would go perfect with this book then it would be a Mezcal Mule. I am a major foodie and this drink’s smokey and intense taste always gets me. A dark room, an old wooden table, a couple of slices of sourdough bread with olive tapenade, Perth coming out of the speakers and this book. Perfect night.

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A Good Read A Good Listen and A Good Drink, Amory, Girl Friend

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It’s a simple yet sublime pleasure, and just thinking about it can make you feel a little calmer, a little more content. Imagine: You bring out one of the good rocks glasses (or your favorite mug or a special occasion tea cup) and pour a couple fingers of amber liquid (or something dark and strong or just some whole milk). You drop the needle on the jazz platter (or pull up a blues album on your mp3 player or dig out that mixtape from college). Ensconcing yourself in the coziest seat in the house, you crack the spine on a classic (or find your place in that sci-fi paperback or pull up a biography on your e-book reader). And then, you go away for a while. Ah, bliss.

In this series, some of NTSIB’s friends share beloved albums, books and drinks to recommend or inspire.

Girl Friend, an electro-pop outfit from Manchester, England, recently released an EP entitled Arrive Alone, Leave Alone. It’s not so much party music as music for between the parties, a soundtrack to drown out uncomfortable silences in the car, and in your own head. It’s bouncy, and kind of mournful, encompassing the gritty-eyed sore footed sour stomach morning-after as well as wistful nostalgia for the night before.

The song that hooked me was Monte Carlo:

And Style and Substance is also very good:

You can listen the rest at their Soundcloud page.

And with that, I turn the floor over to lead singer Amory, who joins us today to talk about a favorite book, record and drink.

GIRL_FRIEND_ARRIVE_ALONE_LEAVE_ALONE-FOR WEB(1) Girl Friend; Amory is in the center, in the black jacket.

A Good Read

Several years ago I was given a copy of Albert Camus’ L’Étranger (The Stranger) for Christmas, what a brilliant present that was. Camus was a French Algerian author and philosopher ; a protean talent with a superb collection of long coats (collars, invariably upturned).

“A minute later she asked me if I loved her. I told her it didn’t mean anything but that I didn’t think so. She looked sad.”

Something about Camus’ depiction of emotional detachment, in the face of love and death, struck a chord with me. For those who often feel bereft and apathetic for reasons they can’t quite define, I urge you to read this book. Remember – it’s society’s problem, not ours.

A Good Listen

A recent favourite is Queen Of The Clouds by Tove Lo. It’s a wonderful, melancholic, electro-pop record that embraces it’s rich, Swedish heritage. Every song is imbued with lust and loneliness. QOTC is filled with more hooks than an anglers’ convention; as a songwriter, I’m jealous.

Tove is also effortlessly sexy, in a way that Cyrus, Perry and Minaj will never understand. “I get home I got the munchies, binge on all my Twinkies. Throw up in the tub and I go to sleep.” Sigh, throw up on me Tove.

Tove Lo - Habits (Stay High)

A Good Drink

Gin.

There is no pain gin & tonic can’t numb, nor an event it cannot improve. I’ve a predilection for Sipsmith, but I’m easily pleased. I really don’t mind, as long as the person I’m with is young, beautiful and paying…

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A Good Read A Good Listen and a Good Drink, Catherine Feeny

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It’s a simple yet sublime pleasure, and just thinking about it can make you feel a little calmer, a little more content. Imagine: You bring out one of the good rocks glasses (or your favorite mug or a special occasion tea cup) and pour a couple fingers of amber liquid (or something dark and strong or just some whole milk). You drop the needle on the jazz platter (or pull up a blues album on your mp3 player or dig out that mixtape from college). Ensconcing yourself in the coziest seat in the house, you crack the spine on a classic (or find your place in that sci-fi paperback or pull up a biography on your e-book reader). And then, you go away for a while. Ah, bliss.

In this series, some of NTSIB’s friends share beloved albums, books and drinks to recommend or inspire.

Catherine Feeny, indie folk solo artist has teamed up with jazz percussionist Chris Johnedis to make a record, and it’s scheduled to emerge into the world later this month. I’ve had the pleasure of listening to some tracks ahead of time, and here’s what I can tell you: it’s a many-faceted folk-jazz fusion gem.

These are the two songs that are currently available the listening public. The first one is called Harm and is about unapologetically loving people that might be (probably are) bad for you, because, well, it’s a thrill.

The second one, Carrier Pigeon, is about toxic love letters. I think. Maybe just about the power of love letters. It’s lovely, anyway, and left me thinking about the thrill of receiving actual mail from loved ones, of delicate air mail paper and foreign stamps, of addresses written out, some with care, others, in an untidy scrawl. And, too, the letters that people keep – that I have kept – even when everything else has burned down or faded away.

And with that, I turn the floor over to Catherine Feeny, who has graciously agreed to join us today and tell us about a favorite book, record and beverage:

CFCJcolor Chris Johnedis (left) and Catherine Feeny (right)

A Good Read

I am always a few years behind on my reading — I tend to find books in free piles or on the sale shelf. I just picked up The Art of Fielding by Chad Harbach, and I really enjoyed it. It is an intelligent, generous, entertaining novel with a large cast of characters that is long enough to let you really dig in. And badass Harbach founded N+1, a rad New York-based magazine and publisher.

A Good Listen

One of my favorite records of the year is Comfort in Doubt by Portland-based band Sama Dams. It is dark and complex and compelling. Sam and Lisa Adams are the husband-wife team who share writing and vocals, taking turns behind a weird 70s organ. Chris Hermsen, the drummer, is this passionate mathematical genius who alternates between cool reserve (as in the song My Ears Are Ringing) and unbridled energy. They are friends as well, so I get to see how they work up close.

Sama Dams - My Ears Are Ringing

A Good Drink

My favorite drink right now is a fermented tea called puerh. The tea is picked and then they get it wet in massive piles and let it sit. Finally, they dry it into cakes. When you find a good one (and they vary a lot) it has this rich, yet mellow concentrated ‘tea’ flavor. You can steep the leaves several times — often for the second steeping I let it sit overnight with cardamom seeds then heat it with milk and honey.

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A Good Read A Good Listen and a Good Drink: Nick Morrison, Mumblr

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It’s a simple yet sublime pleasure, and just thinking about it can make you feel a little calmer, a little more content. Imagine: You bring out one of the good rocks glasses (or your favorite mug or a special occasion tea cup) and pour a couple fingers of amber liquid (or something dark and strong or just some whole milk). You drop the needle on the jazz platter (or pull up a blues album on your mp3 player or dig out that mixtape from college). Ensconcing yourself in the coziest seat in the house, you crack the spine on a classic (or find your place in that sci-fi paperback or pull up a biography on your e-book reader). And then, you go away for a while. Ah, bliss.

In this series, some of NTSIB’s friends share beloved albums, books and drinks to recommend or inspire.

Mumblr, scrappy little band of my heart (East Coast division), recently had the opportunity to be part of the Red Room Series, a new session series which is, like them, out of Philadelphia. My first reaction on seeing the videos was They’re playing in good light!!! What!!! because I may possibly have spent too much time in raggedy clubs. The sound is great, too. Here is an excerpt, selected on the grounds that this is one and only time something entitled Greyhound Station could reasonably be described as a visual and aural delight.

Sleepless Sound Red Room Series: Mumblr – Greyhound Station from James DuBourdieu on Vimeo.

They’re heading out on a month’s voyage through parts of the East Coast with some excursions into the Midwest with Soda Bomb starting on April 9, so if you liked what you just watched, stop by their Facebook and check their dates and go and see them if they’re stopping near you.

And now I turn the floor over to lead singer Nick Morrison, who joins us today to talk about a favorite book, record and drink.

A Good Read:

I used to read a lot when I was younger but going to college kind of destroyed my love of reading for fun. It takes me much longer to get through books now, haha. I did just finish Blood Meridian by Cormac McCarthy which was excellent. The book was an interesting mix of beauty and violence.

A Good Listen:

One of my favorite albums is the 1968 self-titled release by Os Mutantes. It’s an amazingly versatile album that hits every emotion. The band spearheaded the psychedelic rock movement in Brazil and, in my opinion, puts bands like Velvet Underground to shame. I’ve always admired the eclectic song-writing and complete mess of styles. The songs Panis et Circenses and Baby are hot tracks.

Os Mutantes- Panis Et Circensis & Bat Macumba (Complete French TV-1969)

A Good Drink:

I’m a big beer guy. I can never bring myself to make or buy a cocktail or mixed drink because I spend too much money on something I drink immediately. If I do drink liquor it’s usually Gin and water. 9 times out of 10 I’m drinking beer. Yuengling is the illest. A good lager really makes it happen for me. If I’m feeling extra fancy I’ll even add a little bit of OJ to it. Have you ever heard of class? Because I think I have it.

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A Good Read A Good Listen and a Good Drink: El Xicano

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It’s a simple yet sublime pleasure, and just thinking about it can make you feel a little calmer, a little more content. Imagine: You bring out one of the good rocks glasses (or your favorite mug or a special occasion tea cup) and pour a couple fingers of amber liquid (or something dark and strong or just some whole milk). You drop the needle on the jazz platter (or pull up a blues album on your mp3 player or dig out that mixtape from college). Ensconcing yourself in the coziest seat in the house, you crack the spine on a classic (or find your place in that sci-fi paperback or pull up a biography on your e-book reader). And then, you go away for a while. Ah, bliss.

In this series, some of NTSIB’s friends share beloved albums, books and drinks to recommend or inspire.

And now, a very special holiday/Friday/holiday Friday treat: a new song from my favorite international man of mystery El Xicano. This one is called I Mostri (Monsters), and it’s a little bit more mellow than La Grande Pauro, but no less lovely. The rest of the EP will surface next year, but in the mean time, put your feet up and relax to this tune:

And now I will turn the floor over to El Xicano himself, who is becoming a little bit less of a mystery today by sharing his favorite book, record and drink:

image

A Good Read:
If On A Winter’s Night A Traveler by Italo Calvino. An experimental but accessible novel written by one of the most interesting Italian writer of the 20th century. A mesmerizing (and full of oddities) book about the magic of writing and reading. I read it when I was 16 and it really stunned me.

A Good Listen:
One of my favourite albums of 2014 is Black Moon Spell by King Tuff. I think it’s the indie-garage-psychedelic-pop masterpiece of the year with its alluring vocals, brilliant harmonies, huge r’n’r riffs, bizarre lyrics and unforgettable hooks. The songs are extremely well written and produced. I can’t wait to see him in concert.

A Good Drink:
Sangiovese. Always. It’s absolutely my favourite red wine. A couple of glasses and life becomes easier and simple. Around Gambettola, where I live, there are so many wineries producing such excellent wines that I’m spoilt for choice due to the crazy amount of options.