Clear.
I'm not posting this Phil Perry song just because I'm still mourning the untimely death of Luther Vandross. My abiding affection for the Quiet Storm tradition also represents the musical gulf between myself and the majority of the music blogging community. I simply don't harbor a fetish for skinny white kids with guitars. The derivative nature and obvious cliches of Phil Perry's highly processed sound on My Book of Love serve an invaluable social function (if you know what I mean), while the latest salvo from a Lou Barlow imitator is only likely to further alienate lonely hipsters.
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Marah is exempt from my disdain, as they're neither kids nor uniformly skinny. Their new album streams here. When it's not coming across as a smart-aleck version of Bruce Springsteen's The River, it's reminiscent of the kitchen-sink roots-rock of Elvis Costello's King of America. In other words, it's incredible. (Tip via Captain's Dead.)
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Ken Nelson has died. (Tip via BGO.)
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Kansas City Click: The triple bill of Kansas City Bear Fighters, Deadman Flats and Damn That Sasquatch makes for an unofficial tribute to Split Lip Rayfield tonight at the Record Bar. It'd be a hoot to sit near the door and watch the confused reactions of unsuspecting rockers as they're assaulted by bluegrass.
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