On My Birthday... Loudie Wainwright III was in Houston

Well, whatta ya know... my favorite folkie/guitarist/songwriter was performing in Houston on my birthday -- and I wasn't there. I seem to have missed him everywhere lately, but if he ever gets back this way (maybe to see his brother) I WILL!! In the meantime, here's an article from Houston about Louden... I seem to have messed up all of the little songs I have tried to save on this blog. I do want his new album, "Songs From the New Depression." Once I get the old checkbook built up again, I'll get it, as I do love what he has to sing! What a great guy.


HITTING THE LISTENING ROOM
Forget the Dylan rap: Loudon Wainwright III channels George Carlin in his serious, silly songs
By Michael D. Clark
September 11th, 2010 at 2:27 PM

It's hard to classify an artist like Loudon Wainwright III. That's one of the reasons he is so enticing.

Blossoming as a singer-songwriter in the '60s, his songs have always been a soundtrack of the times in which we live. In fact, he was so good at it that many dubbed him as the successor to Bob Dylan as folk-rock's historian in the early '70s. Where he and Bob parted ways, however, was Wainwright's penchant for imbuing his work with a bit of tongue-in-cheek satire.

In that way he was also a bit like George Carlin.

Still, if you had to be the metaphorical lovechild of two hippy-era icons, one could do worse than Dylan and Carlin.

Wainwrights's 40 year recording career has been a series of luring fans in with his sincere ideas set to music, followed by metaphorically asking his audiences to pull his finger.

Before receiving Grammy nominations in the mid-1980s for the albums, I'm Alright and More Love Songs, Wainwright's best known song was a little ditty titled "Dead Skunk (In the Middle of the Road)." And when people started comparing him to Dylan he responded by mimicking Dylan's simple couplets and song style for the 1992 song, "Talking New Bob Dylan."

It's not surprising then that, following last year's release of High Wide & Handsome: The Charlie Poole Project, — a very straight-forward tribute to the early 20th century singer and banjo player that earned Wainwright a best traditional folk album Grammy — his latest album is sarcastically titled, 10 Songs For the New Depression.

So Much More to Learn...

Well, I did learn ONE more thing about following a blog, and managed to do it. But the blogger found me somehow on Twitter (there's another thing to learn about!). I must and will learn how to do all these things, otherwise how can I criticize the old Russians in my building who will not learn how to speak English. Genya says it's because they are too old -- and they are all younger than I. Just because they look older is no excuse. I know people have read this, my blog...but I have NO followers, in spite of the fact that I have urged them to 'follow.' Even Whitney, my own child does not 'follow' me....but then, when did she ever? (I didn't mean it Whit |-}. That's me making a mean smile with eyes scrunched up.) I think I shall go back to (grin), I'm not real good at cute. Pardon me while I take a very large foot pill.

To get back to the person who made the Twitter contact...he is a local jazz musician and I loved his blog on Suzuki and the teaching of music to children. I do wish my kidlets (grandchildren) were taking some kind of music lessons. There are no 'natural' musicians in my family, or in my daughter-in-laws, but I get the feeling that Bella (the right brained one) might just like having some kind of music lessons. I wanted so to learn to play the piano, but Jessie wouldn't let me, as I couldn't raise my ring fingers alone (Jessie, the classical pianist...I take it back, she WAS a musician, although she could NOT sing...we all sing off-key.) Jess stuck me with trying desperately to learn to play the violin...I was TERRIBLE. I have two lovely poems, one about the violin disaster and one about that darling Arlo Guthrie. I will try to find them and put them on here. They explain a lot. God this is rambling....I seem to have wandered off point again...I am becoming my mother.

So....after I checked into Twitter, gladly 'followed' the sax player, I went on to read his blog about the musical children, then on to a jazz musician in London and a photo of a man with a bass sax, which reminded me of Ernie Caseres (Caceres?) OK...remember I am old and I haven't seen or written his name in years! He played clarinet and any sax that no one else was playing...a very versatile musician, but it must have been difficult to carry all those cases to every gig. he was also such a cute little guy you wanted to hug him on sight. Sometimes I miss NYC and the whole Condon crowd...Muggsy, Pee Wee, Ed Hall, Hackett, crazy George Brunies, Big Sid Catlett, the best drummer of all times...all gone and some of the names are dropping out of my mind, sad to say, but I can hunt for the Condon CDs or dig out the LPs and listen. I still don't have anything with my favorite person on it...I miss old Red MacKenzie...after all, Ned Travis sent me to him to hear the others, and he was the one who introduced me to them. Then Smitty, Scrib and I hung out at Nicks and Julius' and breathed in the music, so it is still in there in my soul. Sometimes late at night I can still see and hear old Brunies up on the bar, waving his trombone around in the air....."You so ugly, you so ugly, you some ugly chile....now the clothes that you wear are not in style/ you look like an ape every time that you smile....yo' hair is nappy, who's yo' pappy...... you some ugly chile. None of them ever grew up...sometimes I wish I hadn't...maybe I didn't.

Am I blue....am I blue....ain't these tears in these eyes tellin' you?