Skip to main content

Another Voice From The Retro Club

Artists are clearly tapping into tried and true styles from yesteryear. I raved about Fleet Foxes in my previous blog. Well, now I offer up a new exhibit: Nicole Atkins. If Mama Cass and Roy Orbison had a love child, she's it. Imagine that genetic combo backed by the Pretenders. The songs on her record Neptune City are all over the place, but she's got an operatic vocal quality that is as every bit mesmerizing as Amy Winehouse's blues snarl. Difference? Seems like Nicole's having fun with her noir-ish tunes. Plus it's nice to hear an American voice singing with gusto, not burpling like a vocodered teen queen (my own word, burpling).

Check out Ms. Atkins on le video:
Maybe Tonight
Neptune City (original version)

I expect her to make a decent run at Best New Artist (along with Fleet Foxes) at the Grammys. Hope her label makes the push. Her record came out last October, making it eligible for this year's awards. It's quickly joining my favorites of the past 12 months. I mean, on first listen (and I'm still listening) I know this is a record to be reckoned with.

Hope all my kith and kin in the South are weathering the storms. Fall has mercifully arrived here in L.A. Nice walks at night to the church with the family; Callie likes to run in the parking lot.

Peace & Disco Beats

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Murderous Haircut of the Mayor of Bel Air - Book Review

“The Murderous Haircut of the Mayor of Bel Air” is a trippy new mystery novel from Phillip Mottaz. It captures the grit and gilt of the City of Angels with the flair of a contemporary Raymond Chandler. The brisk pace and wit are reminiscent of Douglas Adams’s entries in the detective game. Flourishes of  Fletch  and “Medium” also spring to mind. However, Mottaz has added a psychic/mutant/superhuman touch and his own comedic voice, structure and internal monologues to the proceedings that help the author announce his own style and the arrival of a literary heroine for a new generation. Hairstylist and budding private investigator, Danica Luman is the perfect character to convey the irony, angst and sarcasm needed to tell a 21st century L.A. crime story. Danica also represents anyone who thought it would be neat to get tangled up in a mystery and the darkly comic cautionary tale that follows. The genre is recognizable, but Mottaz offers a fresh take on the not-ready-for-prime-time-hard-b

Jim Brown: G.O.A.T.

Yesterday, I met the Greatest of All-Time in his profession. It's not everyday that you see one, let alone get to interact. Of course, the encounter is nerve-wracking for the fan and probably tedious for the G.O.A.T. Thanks to my friend Steve, we got to visit the field prior my hometown Cleveland Browns ' matchup against the Chargers in San Diego. I had hope to see some of the old new Browns and get some pictures. I also had a small bag with a couple of mini helmets inside it and figured, these guys wouldn't mind that someone actually cared for their autographs. As we walked around the sideline, I sized up my options. Not a lot of players on the field yet. And it was hot. Probably around 95 and I had on a jacket to cover up my vintage Brian Sipe jersey. Lo and behold, who do I see holding court at the far end but the Greatest football player... Ever: Jim Brown . A true legend. The man whole holds a record book full of milestones. Star of the silverscreen. Community activist

Hello, Dali! (Now with 50% More Photos)

Hola , Soul Mates, I'm feeling very jet lagged. Just got back from Espana . Catalunya and Andalucia to be more precise. I even learned Catalan ( jo parlo catala , amics ) and spoke it in broken fashion to amused natives. But wait, here's proof... It's me at the Dali Teatro - Museu in Figueres on Salvador's birthday. The place is more funhouse than museum. This objet d'art was hidden in a stairwell. I call it "The Crowned Peacock Dreams of Genie." Dali lived here. He's buried here. I'm being idiotic here. Genuflecting or posing? Felicitats , Salvador! It was his birthday and I was the only one celebrating. And yes, I did sing "Happy Birthday" to him. Another installation that defies explanation. But it's got a real crocodile and a real light bulb and artificial limbs involved. What's not to like? Seems like every town in Catalonia has some sort of memorial to John Lennon. This sign had fallen off (no, I did not keep it), s