Sunday, July 15, 2007
Covering the Latin Alternative Music Conference
Hello. Been a long time. Must. Update. Blog. Very. Soon. For now, please visit www.harpmagazine.com (front page, left hand side or click on the links here on your right) and check out my four-part series on the Latin Alternative Music Conference. If you scroll down you can also see a few photos I took with my little Kodak snapshot camera--pardon the crudeness. I've also added a few names and links to bands/aritst I highly recommend.
Thursday, May 10, 2007
Tio Ivan News Footage
TV stations pay tribute to my late Tio Iván
Varias estaciones de television hablan sobre el fallecimiento del Tio Iván
Wednesday, May 2, 2007
Iván Oña R.I.H.
I'm pretty sure my uncle and namesake, Iván Oña, just got to heaven and is quickly looking for his old man--my grandpa, Guillermo or Abuelito Lempis, as we used to call him. After Tio Iván finds him, they will probably catch up over a few "jabas de Pilsener" (cases of Ecuadorian beer). If there's a soccer game on, all the better.
It would probably behoove Tio Iván to keep it low key that since Lempis's passing in '81, Ivan became a die hard fan of the Ecuadorian soccer team, Barcelona. Lempis, being a Liguista (fan of Liga Deportiva Universitaria) and consequently a hater of all things Barcelona, would probably disown him AGAIN (we'll get to that later). After drinking, smoking and shooting the shit, they will probably go chasing angel skirts.
After that, he would probably look up John Lennon. I'm sure that in Tio's extremely poor, but hilarious English he would find ways to tell Lennon how much his music, particularly "Imagine," meant to him. Tio Iván was definitely a "dreamer." He even spray-painted a Lennon quote on a wall right outside of his home.
Tio Iván was no saint. Not even close. He was a foul-mouthed, hot-tempered hippy and womanizer. But if there's a heaven or "above us only sky"--as the song goes--the man secured his place a long time ago through his transparency and monolithic integrity. His honesty in a country devastated by corruption and greed is one for the history books. As an esteemed journalist and consequently Ecuador press representative in Cuba, advisor to a vice president and then press secretary for another president, the opportunities to sell out and escape monetary despair were ripe. All he needed to do was pick one. He never did. Even friends and colleagues who visited him at his home in Los Molinos del Viento (The Windmills) in el Valle de los Chillos (Valley of Screams) in the outskirts of Quito, where Tio Iván chose to live out his last days, marveled at what could have been: "Iván could have been a millionaire many times over, if he wanted to." But it wasn't in the cards for him. Instead, he remained an honest man who chose to die under a roof that leaked right onto his death bed in the modest house where he made a home with his wife, Miriam and their kids Tammy, Miriam Julem, Marisol and "Comandante."
Ironically, he died of complications from cancer of the larynx. For over 30 years, it was his voice that gave him his livelihood as a broadcast journalist and in the end it was his cancer-stricken voice that took away his life.
People come and go and that's a sad part of life. But few will leave behind such a marvelous and enduring legacy. As my dad said, "My younger brother Iván was special since he was a little boy." This is one of my favorite Tio Iván stories that is sad, funny and tugs at your heart, but is also a glimpse at how special he was from so early on.
For Catholics, your first communion is an absolutely mandatory ritual--no ifs, ands or buts. So the story goes that sometime before my uncle was supposed to do his first communion, Abuelito Lempis nabbed him pocketing his lunch money. Grandpa, who was a strict disciplinarian, authoritarian, judge and juror sentenced Tio Iván to a magnificent ass-whoopin.' No questions were asked when it came to dishonesty or theft. Murder would have been received with a little less hostility by my grandparents. So after essentially disowning him and a several belt lashes that undoubtedly left a few marks, the truth surfaced. The paternal instinct to visualize Tio Iván's lunch money on smut magazines , junk food and general childhood foolishness was way off the mark. You could imagine the crash of conscience that strangled Abuelito Lempis, when he found out that Tio Iván had used the money to buy a candle for his first communion. As it turned out, Tio Iván had felt bad about asking my grandparents for money since they were essentially in the poorhouse. Instead, he didn't eat his lunch for a few weeks to buy the candle. All he really wanted to do is fit in. He didn't want to be the poor kid without the candle.
But my uncle never did fit in. To fit in would imply someone who gets by and lives in relative anonymity--someone who doesn't stick out. Tio stuck out like a sore middle finger. He was far too extraordinary--his life, his wisdom, his actions. He was bigger than he, himself, could comprehend. Though he will be missed far more than words could ever convey, he leaves behind enough anecdotes to keep the family smiling and remembering for a long, long time.
He is survived by his mother and my grandmother, Abuelita Blanquita; his wife and soulmate, Tia Miriam; their kids and my cousins: Tammy, Miriam Julem, Marisol and "Comandante;" his older brother and my father, Mario, and our family; older sister Tia Lali and all her family; and his younger siblings: Tia Jenny, Tia Ligia, Tio Patricio, Tia Vero and all of their respective families.
Tio Iván: Rest in Hippydom (1950 - 2007).
EN ESPAÑOL:
Estoy casi seguro que mi Tio Iván, por quien me llamo Mario Iván,
acaba de llegar al cielo y esta buscando desesperadamente a su
Viejo--mi abuelo Guillermo o como le deciamos, Abuelito Lempis. Al
encontrarse los dos, estoy mas que seguro que se pegaran sus jabas de
Pilsener y si hay un partido de fútbol, mejor todavia!
Creo que seria prudente que mi Tio Iván ni mencione que despues de la muerte del Abuelito Lempis, se volvio hincha del Barcelona. Siendo Liguista hasta no se donde, capaz quel Abuelito lo mata.
Despues del chupe y de ponerse al dia, estoy seguro que ira en
busca de “guambras angelicales.”
Despues de eso, me imagino que buscara a John Lennon. Aunque estoy convencido de que no hay persona que hable el ingles peor que mi tio, el encontrara la forma de dejarle saber a Lennon cuanto significo su musica en la vida del tio, particularmente la canción "Imagine." Tio Iván siempre fue un soñador ("dreamer") como dice la cancion, inclusive hizo un “graffiti”con un dicho de Lennon en la pared afuerita de su casa.
Mi tio no fue ningun santo. Se le hiban malas palabras,
tenia un temperamento fuerte, era hippy y mujeriego. Pero si existe
el cielo como lo cantaba Lennon en la misma cancion, mi tio aseguro su puesto hace muchos años con su transparencia e integridad monolítica. Su honestidad en su Ecuador podrido con corrupción y
avaricia es casi historica. Como un periodista admirado y
consequentemente diplomatico Ecuatoriano de prensa en Cuba, asesor de la ex-Vice Presidenta Rosalia Arteaga y ex-secretario de comunicación bajo Lucio Gutierrez, las oportunidades para salir de una situacion financieramente dificil se le ofrecieron muchas veces. Pero el jamas lo hizo. Inclusive sus amigos y colegas que le visitaban en su casa en el vecindario de los Molinos del Viento en el Valle de los Chillos, se asombraban y comentaban: "Iván, facilmente, pudo ser millonario." Pero para mi tio no habia suficiente plata para que el comprometa sus principios y entregue su lealtad.
En lugar, el se mantuvo un hombre honesto que escojio morir bajo un
techo con goteras donde las gotas le caian en la misma cama que murio. El escogio morir en su casita con su mujer, Miriam y sus hijos, Tammy, Miriam Julem, Marisol e Iván Guillermo (Comandante).
Ironicamente, murio de complicaciones de cancer a la laringe. Despues de casi 30 años de hacer subsistencia con su voz en la radio y la television, en el final fue su misma voz que le quito la vida.
Gente viene y va y esa es la triste realidad de la vida. Pero pocos
dejan un legado tan maravilloso y permanente. Como mi viejo decia,
"My hermano Iván fue super especial desde niño." Aqui va una de las
anecdotas mas chistosas y a la misma vez mas tristes de mi tio que
demuestra lo especial que fue desde guaguito:
Para los catolicos, la primera comunión es completamente mandatoria y da acuerdo al cuento, mi tio estaba en edad de hacer su primera comunion. Cuando mi Abuelito Lempis le agarro guardandose la plata que le daban para su almuerzo en las escuela. Mi abuelito que era estricto y disciplinario, sirvio de juez y jurado y lo sentencio a una tremenda paliza. Ninguna averiguacion se hacia cuando se trataba de robar o ser deshonesto. Homicidio hubiera sido un crimen menos grave para mis abuelos. Despues de algunos correazos que seguramente dejaron su marca permanente, la verdad se dio. El instincto paternal de visualizar la plata para el almuerzo convertido en caramelos, revistas sucias o tipicos gastos tontos de los jovenes estaba super equivocado. Ya se pueden imaginar el cargo de conciencia cuando mi abuelito se dio cuenta que mi tio habia usado la plata para comprar una vela para su primera comunion. Lo que paso es que mi tio se sentia mal en pedir plata a mis abuelitos en medio de su crisis economica. Por lo cual, el tio escogio no comer su almuerzo por un par de semanas para comprar la vela. Al final, lo unico que queria era ser un chico comun, no queria ser el chico pobre que no tenia ni para una triste vela.
Pero mi tio nunca fue comun. Ser "comun," hubiera implicado alguien que vivia su vida casi anonimamente--alguien que no relucia. Mi tio relucio como el dedo del medio dando el pajarito. El fue
demasiadamente extraordinario--su vida, su sabiduria y sus acciones.
El fue mucho mas grande de lo que el mismo se imaginaba. Aunque sera extrañado sin limite, el deja suficientes anecdotas para dejar a su familia sonriendo por muchos, muchos años.
Le sobreviven su mama y mi abuela, Abuelita Blanquita; su esposa y
media naranja, Tia Miriam; sus hijos y mis primos: Tammy, Miriam
Julem, Marisol e Iván Guillermo (Comandante); y por fin su hermano mayor y mi papa, Mario, con nuestra familia, su hermana, mi Tia Lali, con su familia y sus hermanos menores: Tia Jenny, Tia Ligia, Tio Patricio, Tia Vero y sus familias correspondientes.
Descansa en paz Tio Ivan, quel cielo este lleno de guitarras, musica de los Beatles y amor. Te recordaremos y viviras en nuestros corazones por siempre!
It would probably behoove Tio Iván to keep it low key that since Lempis's passing in '81, Ivan became a die hard fan of the Ecuadorian soccer team, Barcelona. Lempis, being a Liguista (fan of Liga Deportiva Universitaria) and consequently a hater of all things Barcelona, would probably disown him AGAIN (we'll get to that later). After drinking, smoking and shooting the shit, they will probably go chasing angel skirts.
After that, he would probably look up John Lennon. I'm sure that in Tio's extremely poor, but hilarious English he would find ways to tell Lennon how much his music, particularly "Imagine," meant to him. Tio Iván was definitely a "dreamer." He even spray-painted a Lennon quote on a wall right outside of his home.
Tio Iván was no saint. Not even close. He was a foul-mouthed, hot-tempered hippy and womanizer. But if there's a heaven or "above us only sky"--as the song goes--the man secured his place a long time ago through his transparency and monolithic integrity. His honesty in a country devastated by corruption and greed is one for the history books. As an esteemed journalist and consequently Ecuador press representative in Cuba, advisor to a vice president and then press secretary for another president, the opportunities to sell out and escape monetary despair were ripe. All he needed to do was pick one. He never did. Even friends and colleagues who visited him at his home in Los Molinos del Viento (The Windmills) in el Valle de los Chillos (Valley of Screams) in the outskirts of Quito, where Tio Iván chose to live out his last days, marveled at what could have been: "Iván could have been a millionaire many times over, if he wanted to." But it wasn't in the cards for him. Instead, he remained an honest man who chose to die under a roof that leaked right onto his death bed in the modest house where he made a home with his wife, Miriam and their kids Tammy, Miriam Julem, Marisol and "Comandante."
Ironically, he died of complications from cancer of the larynx. For over 30 years, it was his voice that gave him his livelihood as a broadcast journalist and in the end it was his cancer-stricken voice that took away his life.
People come and go and that's a sad part of life. But few will leave behind such a marvelous and enduring legacy. As my dad said, "My younger brother Iván was special since he was a little boy." This is one of my favorite Tio Iván stories that is sad, funny and tugs at your heart, but is also a glimpse at how special he was from so early on.
For Catholics, your first communion is an absolutely mandatory ritual--no ifs, ands or buts. So the story goes that sometime before my uncle was supposed to do his first communion, Abuelito Lempis nabbed him pocketing his lunch money. Grandpa, who was a strict disciplinarian, authoritarian, judge and juror sentenced Tio Iván to a magnificent ass-whoopin.' No questions were asked when it came to dishonesty or theft. Murder would have been received with a little less hostility by my grandparents. So after essentially disowning him and a several belt lashes that undoubtedly left a few marks, the truth surfaced. The paternal instinct to visualize Tio Iván's lunch money on smut magazines , junk food and general childhood foolishness was way off the mark. You could imagine the crash of conscience that strangled Abuelito Lempis, when he found out that Tio Iván had used the money to buy a candle for his first communion. As it turned out, Tio Iván had felt bad about asking my grandparents for money since they were essentially in the poorhouse. Instead, he didn't eat his lunch for a few weeks to buy the candle. All he really wanted to do is fit in. He didn't want to be the poor kid without the candle.
But my uncle never did fit in. To fit in would imply someone who gets by and lives in relative anonymity--someone who doesn't stick out. Tio stuck out like a sore middle finger. He was far too extraordinary--his life, his wisdom, his actions. He was bigger than he, himself, could comprehend. Though he will be missed far more than words could ever convey, he leaves behind enough anecdotes to keep the family smiling and remembering for a long, long time.
He is survived by his mother and my grandmother, Abuelita Blanquita; his wife and soulmate, Tia Miriam; their kids and my cousins: Tammy, Miriam Julem, Marisol and "Comandante;" his older brother and my father, Mario, and our family; older sister Tia Lali and all her family; and his younger siblings: Tia Jenny, Tia Ligia, Tio Patricio, Tia Vero and all of their respective families.
Tio Iván: Rest in Hippydom (1950 - 2007).
EN ESPAÑOL:
Estoy casi seguro que mi Tio Iván, por quien me llamo Mario Iván,
acaba de llegar al cielo y esta buscando desesperadamente a su
Viejo--mi abuelo Guillermo o como le deciamos, Abuelito Lempis. Al
encontrarse los dos, estoy mas que seguro que se pegaran sus jabas de
Pilsener y si hay un partido de fútbol, mejor todavia!
Creo que seria prudente que mi Tio Iván ni mencione que despues de la muerte del Abuelito Lempis, se volvio hincha del Barcelona. Siendo Liguista hasta no se donde, capaz quel Abuelito lo mata.
Despues del chupe y de ponerse al dia, estoy seguro que ira en
busca de “guambras angelicales.”
Despues de eso, me imagino que buscara a John Lennon. Aunque estoy convencido de que no hay persona que hable el ingles peor que mi tio, el encontrara la forma de dejarle saber a Lennon cuanto significo su musica en la vida del tio, particularmente la canción "Imagine." Tio Iván siempre fue un soñador ("dreamer") como dice la cancion, inclusive hizo un “graffiti”con un dicho de Lennon en la pared afuerita de su casa.
Mi tio no fue ningun santo. Se le hiban malas palabras,
tenia un temperamento fuerte, era hippy y mujeriego. Pero si existe
el cielo como lo cantaba Lennon en la misma cancion, mi tio aseguro su puesto hace muchos años con su transparencia e integridad monolítica. Su honestidad en su Ecuador podrido con corrupción y
avaricia es casi historica. Como un periodista admirado y
consequentemente diplomatico Ecuatoriano de prensa en Cuba, asesor de la ex-Vice Presidenta Rosalia Arteaga y ex-secretario de comunicación bajo Lucio Gutierrez, las oportunidades para salir de una situacion financieramente dificil se le ofrecieron muchas veces. Pero el jamas lo hizo. Inclusive sus amigos y colegas que le visitaban en su casa en el vecindario de los Molinos del Viento en el Valle de los Chillos, se asombraban y comentaban: "Iván, facilmente, pudo ser millonario." Pero para mi tio no habia suficiente plata para que el comprometa sus principios y entregue su lealtad.
En lugar, el se mantuvo un hombre honesto que escojio morir bajo un
techo con goteras donde las gotas le caian en la misma cama que murio. El escogio morir en su casita con su mujer, Miriam y sus hijos, Tammy, Miriam Julem, Marisol e Iván Guillermo (Comandante).
Ironicamente, murio de complicaciones de cancer a la laringe. Despues de casi 30 años de hacer subsistencia con su voz en la radio y la television, en el final fue su misma voz que le quito la vida.
Gente viene y va y esa es la triste realidad de la vida. Pero pocos
dejan un legado tan maravilloso y permanente. Como mi viejo decia,
"My hermano Iván fue super especial desde niño." Aqui va una de las
anecdotas mas chistosas y a la misma vez mas tristes de mi tio que
demuestra lo especial que fue desde guaguito:
Para los catolicos, la primera comunión es completamente mandatoria y da acuerdo al cuento, mi tio estaba en edad de hacer su primera comunion. Cuando mi Abuelito Lempis le agarro guardandose la plata que le daban para su almuerzo en las escuela. Mi abuelito que era estricto y disciplinario, sirvio de juez y jurado y lo sentencio a una tremenda paliza. Ninguna averiguacion se hacia cuando se trataba de robar o ser deshonesto. Homicidio hubiera sido un crimen menos grave para mis abuelos. Despues de algunos correazos que seguramente dejaron su marca permanente, la verdad se dio. El instincto paternal de visualizar la plata para el almuerzo convertido en caramelos, revistas sucias o tipicos gastos tontos de los jovenes estaba super equivocado. Ya se pueden imaginar el cargo de conciencia cuando mi abuelito se dio cuenta que mi tio habia usado la plata para comprar una vela para su primera comunion. Lo que paso es que mi tio se sentia mal en pedir plata a mis abuelitos en medio de su crisis economica. Por lo cual, el tio escogio no comer su almuerzo por un par de semanas para comprar la vela. Al final, lo unico que queria era ser un chico comun, no queria ser el chico pobre que no tenia ni para una triste vela.
Pero mi tio nunca fue comun. Ser "comun," hubiera implicado alguien que vivia su vida casi anonimamente--alguien que no relucia. Mi tio relucio como el dedo del medio dando el pajarito. El fue
demasiadamente extraordinario--su vida, su sabiduria y sus acciones.
El fue mucho mas grande de lo que el mismo se imaginaba. Aunque sera extrañado sin limite, el deja suficientes anecdotas para dejar a su familia sonriendo por muchos, muchos años.
Le sobreviven su mama y mi abuela, Abuelita Blanquita; su esposa y
media naranja, Tia Miriam; sus hijos y mis primos: Tammy, Miriam
Julem, Marisol e Iván Guillermo (Comandante); y por fin su hermano mayor y mi papa, Mario, con nuestra familia, su hermana, mi Tia Lali, con su familia y sus hermanos menores: Tia Jenny, Tia Ligia, Tio Patricio, Tia Vero y sus familias correspondientes.
Descansa en paz Tio Ivan, quel cielo este lleno de guitarras, musica de los Beatles y amor. Te recordaremos y viviras en nuestros corazones por siempre!
Tuesday, April 17, 2007
Tuesday Worship Service
Back to the music... Here's the quickie: Nick Cave's Grinderman project is okay at first listen. It's not the greasier, sleazier and grungier garage rock album you'd hoped, but it's Nick Cave nonetheless. Kings of Leon's "Beacuse of the Times" still sucks ass (except for "Knocked Up," which is listenable). I downloaded two songs off Brother Ali's new album, "The Undisputed Truth." Five letters: S - O - L - I - D. It's soulful, thought-provoking rap done right by his seemingly lazy, raspy voice. At times, he sounds like Everlast. At other times, his generous use of "lawdy-lawd" ("lordy-lord") makes him sound like a church minister. "Uncle Sam Goddamn" and "Pedigree" leave you begging for more. Downloading the rest of the album, as I type! (Note: iTunes must be reading this blog or at the very least had me in mind: they put a new tool that allows you to complete an album sale at a discounted price, should you download a couple of tracks and then kick yourself in the ass for not getting the whole album and paying song for song, instead of the standard $9.99--see blog entry about Brandi Carlile's new album.)
Still pissed at Modest Mouse for pissing away a golden, thick, frothy opportunity to use one of the most recognizable guitars of all times: ex-Smith Johnny Marr's. But even putting aside my obvious infatuation with los Smiths, Morrissey and all things mope, the album is still "eh."
The Onion nails it with their review on Bright Eyes' "Cassadaga": "But it's ["Cassadaga"] already been outclassed by last month's "Four Winds" EP, which matches one of "Cassadaga's" best songs with five tracks arguably better than anything on the album." True that--saddly.
Still pissed at Modest Mouse for pissing away a golden, thick, frothy opportunity to use one of the most recognizable guitars of all times: ex-Smith Johnny Marr's. But even putting aside my obvious infatuation with los Smiths, Morrissey and all things mope, the album is still "eh."
The Onion nails it with their review on Bright Eyes' "Cassadaga": "But it's ["Cassadaga"] already been outclassed by last month's "Four Winds" EP, which matches one of "Cassadaga's" best songs with five tracks arguably better than anything on the album." True that--saddly.
Virginia Tech Massacre
What could I say that hasn't already been said by CNN, MSNBC, Fox News--over and over and over and over? The thing that gets me is that this seems to be an American problem. It seems at least once every few years some crazy son of a bitch snaps and takes as many people as he can down with him. If it's not some crazy kid shooting classmates from elementary school to college, it's some whack-job who takes his lack of getting some, mediocre existence and takes it out on his co-workers. Whatever the case, you just don't hear this type of thing happing with the same oomph and frequency as you do here. I'm positive it has most to do with the availability of guns. We Americans--sadly--are the most gun-slingin' cowboys on this earth. I guarantee if you researched the amount of times a gun came in handy (i.e. to scare off an intruder or thief) in a given year against the times a gun enabled an unprecedented tragedy, the evidence would be staggering. The possibility of Ted Nugent's stupid ass accidentally shooting a grandchild or his grandchild accidentally shooting himself is much, much, much more probable than Nugent saving his family from a would-be assailant.
Everytime a tragedy like this happens, folks briefly talk about guns, but quickly move onto parenting, pop culture and society. I'm proud to be an American and I'm proud that our Constitution and Bill of Rights--except in minor instances--have proven timeless. But our right to guns needs updating. Back in revolutionary times and in the lawless west, it made sense. Now, all it does is enables the wrong people and provides a morbid form of entertainment to others. In this day an age, no one NEEDS a gun. If you worried about home security, invest in an alarm system. Apart from that, when else would you NEED a gun like you NEED your right to free speech or a speedy trial? The gun amendment just doesn't fit anymore. It's outdated and unnecessary. Forget about gun control laws, just get rid of it as an unalienable right.
Everytime a tragedy like this happens, folks briefly talk about guns, but quickly move onto parenting, pop culture and society. I'm proud to be an American and I'm proud that our Constitution and Bill of Rights--except in minor instances--have proven timeless. But our right to guns needs updating. Back in revolutionary times and in the lawless west, it made sense. Now, all it does is enables the wrong people and provides a morbid form of entertainment to others. In this day an age, no one NEEDS a gun. If you worried about home security, invest in an alarm system. Apart from that, when else would you NEED a gun like you NEED your right to free speech or a speedy trial? The gun amendment just doesn't fit anymore. It's outdated and unnecessary. Forget about gun control laws, just get rid of it as an unalienable right.
Tuesday, April 10, 2007
Jarvis Cocker's Solo Album So-So
Jarvis Cocker's album is probably getting better reviews than it deserves, because it's Jarvis Cocker. If you want his best work, dig into Pulp. That's not to say that the album's a total dud. "Black Magic" has the velvety magnificance and tempo of "Crimson and Clover" and "Fat Children," not only displays Cocker's great sense of humour, but it's a catchy, rockin' track that could fit in with Pulp's greatest hits.
Monday, April 9, 2007
My Easter Present: Brandi Carlile
This Easter I was pleasantly surprised by a fantastic new album: Brandi Carlile's "The Story." Although the album came out a few weeks ago, I discovered her during the last couple of minutes of her performance on The Tonight Show with Jay Leno. Although I was laying out on the couch with my wife--teetering between sleep and awakedness--her performance was compelling enough to open my eyes long enough to take note, get up and go to iTunes to download. Ahhh! The beauty of technology: no more list of CDs that I need to pick up at more and more scarce and sparse record stores.
I'm certain she sang her single, "The Story," on Leno. It's a beautiful composition with a sweet melody that starts off soft and mighty purdy, as she gracefully strums her guitar as though she were singing a newborn to sleep. She then roars into an impassioned, heavy electric guitar-backed howl that's a little reminiscent of Sheryl Crow's chorus on "If It Makes You Happy ." But don't worry, the comparison to Crow ends there.
I won't try to categorize her, but I will say she is what she eats--er listens to. Her influences are Radiohead, Jeff Buckley and Patsy Cline. And if you could imagine a musical child of these three, you have Carlile.
Her new album is her sophomore major label release and she's on the quick up and up. It's not too shabby when master producer T. Bone Burnett agrees to do your album. The result is phenomenal. I downloaded the single because it's just so good. Then, I started sampling the other songs hoping there would be a few other gems. As I started downloading one by one, I knew the inevitable would happen. I ended up paying almost $13 for downloading the album song by song, instead of downloading the album in one shot for $7.99. Please don't make the same mistake. As for me, it was the best $13 I've spent on a single CD since way back in the day of Tower Records. Ahhh, technology!
I'm certain she sang her single, "The Story," on Leno. It's a beautiful composition with a sweet melody that starts off soft and mighty purdy, as she gracefully strums her guitar as though she were singing a newborn to sleep. She then roars into an impassioned, heavy electric guitar-backed howl that's a little reminiscent of Sheryl Crow's chorus on "If It Makes You Happy ." But don't worry, the comparison to Crow ends there.
I won't try to categorize her, but I will say she is what she eats--er listens to. Her influences are Radiohead, Jeff Buckley and Patsy Cline. And if you could imagine a musical child of these three, you have Carlile.
Her new album is her sophomore major label release and she's on the quick up and up. It's not too shabby when master producer T. Bone Burnett agrees to do your album. The result is phenomenal. I downloaded the single because it's just so good. Then, I started sampling the other songs hoping there would be a few other gems. As I started downloading one by one, I knew the inevitable would happen. I ended up paying almost $13 for downloading the album song by song, instead of downloading the album in one shot for $7.99. Please don't make the same mistake. As for me, it was the best $13 I've spent on a single CD since way back in the day of Tower Records. Ahhh, technology!
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