A TREE FALLS IN HATTIESBURG

Filmmaker Robert Mugge e-mailed this photo of bluesman Vasti "Vast Eye" Jackson standing beside a huge tree that smashed his storage shed at his Hattiesburg, Miss. home during the hurricane last week.

Fortunately, Vasti -- and his guitar -- survived. Here's a photo, taken by Kathi Lee Jackson, used with permission. (And here's another Vasti link)

CHARMAINE'S NIGHTMARE

My friend and former neighbor Jimmie Lee Hannaford drew my attention to the harrowing account of singer Charmaine Neville, (yes, part of the famous New Orleans musical family), who helped rescue people stranded in New Orleans in the wake of Katrina. (I took the liberty of breaking the transcript up into paragraphs to make it easier to read ... if not easier to take.)

"I was in my house when everything first started. ... When the hurricane came, it blew all of the left side of my house off, and the water was coming in my house in torrents. I had my neighbor, an elderly man, and myself, in the house with our dogs and cats, and we were trying to stay out of the water. But the water was coming in too fast. So we ended up having to leave the house.

We left the house and we went up on the roof of a school. I took a crowbar and I burst the door open on the roof of the school to help people on the roof. Later on we found a flat boat, and we went around the neighborhood in a flat boat getting people out of their houses and bringing them to the school. We found all the food that we could and we cooked and we fed people.

But then, things started getting really bad. By the second day, the people that were there, that we were feeding and everything, we had no more food and no water. We had nothing, and other people were coming into our neighborhood. We were watching the helicopters going across the bridge and airlift other people out, but they would hover over us and tell us "Hi!" and that would be all. They wouldn't drop us any food or any water, or nothing.

Alligators were eating people. They had all kinds of stuff in the water. They had babies floating in the water. We had to walk over hundreds of bodies of dead people. People that we tried to save from the hospices, from the hospitals and from the old-folks homes.

I tried to get the police to help us, but I realized, we rescued a lot of police officers in the flat boat from the 5th district police station. The guy who was driving the boat, he rescued a lot of them and brought them to different places so they could be saved.

We understood that the police couldn't help us, but we couldn't understand why the National Guard and them couldn't help us, because we kept seeing them but they never would stop and help us.

Finally it got to be too much, I just took all of the people that I could. I had two old women in wheelchairs with no legs that I rowed them from down there in that Ninth Ward to the French Quarters, and I went back and got more people.

There were groups of us, there were about 24 of us, and we kept going back and forth and rescuing whoever we could get and bringing them to the French Quarters 'cause we heard that there was phones in the French Quarters, and that there wasn't any water. And they were right, there was phones but we couldn't get through.

I found some police officers. I told them that a lot of us women had been raped down there by guys who had come from the neighborhood where we were, that were helping us to save people. But other men, and they came and they started raping women [unintelligible] and they started killing, and I don't know who these people were. I'm not gonna tell you I know, because I don't.

But what I want people to understand is that, if we hadn't been left down there like the animals that they were treating us like, all of those things wouldn't have happened. People are trying to say that we stayed in that city because we wanted to be rioting and we wanted to do this and, we didn't have resources to get out, we had no way to leave. When they gave the evacuation order, if we coulda left, we would have left.

There are still thousands and thousands of people trapped in their homes in the downtown area. When we finally did get to, in the 9th ward, and not just in my neighborhood, but in other neighborhoods in the 9th wards, there are a lot of people still trapped down there... old people, young people, babies, pregnant women. I mean, nobody's helping them.

And I want people to realize that we did not stay in the city so we could steal and loot and commit crimes. A lot of those young men lost their minds because the helicopters would fly over us and they wouldn't stop. WE would do SOS on the flashlights, we'd do everything, and it came to a point.

It really did come to a point, where these young men were so frustrated that they did start shooting. They weren't trying to hit the helicopters, they figured maybe they weren't seeing. Maybe if they hear this gunfire they will stop then. But that didn’t help us. Nothing like that helped us.

Finally, I got to Canal St. with all of my people I had saved from back then. I, I don't want them arresting nobody else. I broke the window in an RTA bus. I never learned how to drive a bus in my life. I got in that bus. I loaded all of those people in wheelchairs and in everything else into that bus, and we drove and we drove and we drove and millions of people was trying to get me to help them to get on the bus. But..."

{At this point she breaks down and is consoled by the priest.}

Here's a link to a video of this interview CLICK HERE

IN THE GHETTO

Being a critic with a fondness for music that falls into the big-umbrella category known as "alternative country" ("Whatever that is," No Depression magazine used to ask) one of the most irritating, over-used rockcrit cliches that drives me nuts is the term "the alt-country ghetto."

It had been a couple of years since I'd stumbled across this in print. Then yesterday I got the press bio on The Old 97s new live CD, written by 97s singer Rhett Miller himself.

"I'd only recently been exiled to the ghetto of alt-country (for some stupid reason, I'd thought that what we were doing was classic American rock and roll."

I swear to God, the only musicians quicker to shun a label are New Age musicians.

I did a Google search this morning for "alt-country ghetto" and got 116 hits. Here's some examples:

" ... Fulks' subsequent attempts to break out of the alt-country ghetto in his career ..."
Baltimore City Paper 2001

"While this may sound like typical rhetoric from upstarts trying to avoid being cast into the alt-country ghetto ..."
All Music Guide review of Tennessee by Lucero, 2002

"... and the music was eclectic enough to break him out of the alt-country ghetto ..."
All Music Guide review of Rock N Roll by Ryan Adams 2003

" ... gave Tweedy the musical muscle to make the leap from the alt-country ghetto to a richer pop universe ..."
The Portland Phoenix 2004

"Laura Veirs might be the bridge between the alt-country ghetto and the Sheryl Crow-revering mainstream."
Attributed to Mojo magazine in a 2005 press release for Laura Viers

"... (Tift Merrit) trades in bedtime tunes for stay-out-all-night rockers, busting out of the alt. country ghetto with a self-described "rock-soul throw down."
Austin Live Wire 2005

Others to rise from the Alt-Country Ghetto include Fred Eaglesmith, Dave Alvin, The Jayhawks, Jim Lauderdale, The Geraldine Fibbers and The Willard Grant Conspiracy.

In fact, I bet if you looked hard enough you could find that anyone I've ever played on The Santa Fe Opry, nay, anyone ever associated with alternative country has broken out of the Alt. Country Ghetto.

COWGIRL HURRICANE BENEFIT

Here's the line-up so far for the benefit performance for the Gulf Coast flood victims, at the Cowgirl BBQ, 319 S. Guadalupe Street, 8 p.m. Saturday.

Chris McCarty & Friends
Busy McCarroll & Baird Banner
Toho Dimitrov & the Blues Machine
Jon Gagan & Friends
Sapphire
Pat Malone
Matthew Andre
Round Mountain
Star Anaya
The Motor Kings
and more Special Guests

The cover charge of $10 will be donated directly to the American Red Cross.Musicians to perform (partial listing):

Musicians wanting to donate their talents for a few numbers, contact the Cowgirl, 982-2565

LATINO USA

I'd forgotten until Latino USA came on this morning that I was part of a panel discussing the illegal immigration issue and Gov. Bill Richardson's presidential candidacy.

You can listen to it HERE (MP3) or HERE (Real Audio)

THIRSTY EAR DAY THREE

Several times this weekend during the Thirsty Ear Festival I found myself sinking into the music, only to have my sweet mood rudely interrupted by hideous visions from the Gulf Coast -- bodies in the streets, people stranded on rooftops, people wading waste-high through sewage-tainted water.

No, Katrina didn't ruin the festival for me. Far from it. I'm pretty well convinced that this was the best Thirsty Ear ever. Still, those pangs of guilt and horror and anger put a hard perspective on the affair.

It was indeed fortunate that the climax of the festival Sunday night was a Louisiana band. Beausoleil didn't preach or mourn or rage. They did what they do best, play the music of their land and their people, play the vibrant, celebratory, sometimes mournful but mainly joyful music that for centuries has brought joy, comfort and pride to the Cajun people. Leader Michael Doucet spoke openly about the disaster. His underlying message was of hope and optimism, a faith that the people of Louisiana, to borrow a little Faulkner, would not only endure but prevail.

Earlier in the day, the professorly Doucet did a "workshop" in the Hotel on the history of Cajun music. He took questions from the audience, often playing fiddle and singing to illustrate his answers.

A few other thoughts on the festival:

* The Tarbox Ramblers: This trio was Sunday's big surprise. These are a bunch of old (well, not that old) bald guys from Boston who play a crunching, stomping stripped-down blues.

I'd never heard of these guys and wasn't expecting much from them. So I was pleasantly surprised, in fact amazed at how much fun they were.

Thirsty Ear had a questionnaire asking, among other things whether the festival should get bigger-name acts (which would mean a hike in ticket prices). I voted no. One of the things I love about Thirsty Ear is the opportunity to discover acts like The Tarbox Ramblers.

* Nels Andrews & The El Paso Eyepatch Undoubtedly the worst slot at Thirsty Ear is the opening act on Sunday morning. Even though it starts at 1:30 p.m., a good number of festival-goers haven't quite shaken off Saturday night. There's just a slow trickle of people and most of them seek refuge in the shade of the buildings of the old-west film set instead of in front of the stage, where performers like them to be.

That being said, Albuquerque songwriter Andrews got a good strong response with his poignant, often mournful tunes. My favorite songs from his album Sunday Shoes -- "Central Avenue Romance," "Lilli Marlene" -- sound even better live. Plus they do a rocking version of Gordon Lightfoot's "Sundown."

*Alvin Youngblood Hart: The big old growling bear played a strong set on the main stage. Not quite as awe inspiring as his previous Thirsty Ear gig. Of course this year, the late Ralph Moore wasn't around to share his homemade brownies with me. Old Ralph was a hell of a baker.

Every time Alvin's played this festival he's performed Doug Sahm's "Lawd I'm Just a Country Boy in This Great Big Freaky City." This time was no exception. And now it's finally on an Alvin album, the new Motivational Speaker.

* Joe West This weekend started with Joe West, at his Human Cannonball CD release party at Tiny's Thursday. (Seems like months ago ...) So it was only appropriate to end it with Joe at his "Americana stomp" in the Eaves Ranch saloon.

Actually, I meant to hop back and forth between Joe's gig and the Alvin Youngblood Hart blues jam across the street, but either Joe's music was too captivating or I was too exhausted to move. So I stayed and I'm happy I did. Joe's way too young to be named a Santa Fe Living Treasure. But I know that's what he is.

All in all, it was a wonderful festival this year. KBAC's Luther Watts, who served as emcee, kept reminding people that Thirsty Ear didn't happen last year -- and people were afraid it wouldn't come back. I'm glad those fears were for naught and hope Thirsty Ear remains a Labor Day weekend tradition here.



My friend Dana and me at Thirsty Ear 2005

THIRSTY EAR DAY TWO

(Or should it be "Day One" since the real "Day One" was all at night?)

I've got to get ready to get back to Eaves Ranch because Jeff Dowd is doing his regular shift for KSFR's Sunday Blues show, so I've got to get the KSFR booth ready.

So just a few stray thoughts about the festival yesterday.

* Headliner Rickie Lee Jones performed solo, most with an acoustic guitar, then a few piano songs -- among them my favorite Rickie Lee song, "We Belong Together" from her second album Pirates. Unfortunately, the volume was a little low and my enjoyment of my favorite Rickie song was marred by some loudmouth jerk behind me who must have thought festival goers had paid their money to listen to his mindless chatter.

Rickie was about 20 minutes late taking the stage, then, surprising, refused to do an encore, even though the audience was cheering for one. She apparently was suffering some kind of cold or allergies, as at one point she had to stop and blow her nose between songs.

* This year's surprise hit probably was soul man Earl Thomas, described by my New Mexican colleague Natalie Storey as "an attractive man in tight pants and cowboy boots." (See Natalie's coverage, including a photo of Earl, HERE.) I wasn't familiar with Thomas (or his pants) until yesterday, but I was impressed. With his music, of course. The festival propaganda compares him to Sam Cooke and Otis Redding. I hear some Howard Tate in there too.

Thomas played with just an acoustic guitarist backing him. I can't help but think a full band would add a lot, but unplugged he still was quite enjoyable. My favorite song he did was a cover of "Ode to Billy Joe." (This reminded me of the late Joe Tex's cover, though Joe reworked the last verse: "And me I spend my time eatin' cold watermelon up on Choctaw Ridge/And I spit the seeds in the muddy waters of the Tallahatchie ...") Thomas said he hoped to come back to Santa Fe soon. I hope he's right.

* James McMurtry probably got the strongest audience response of the day. His deadpan drawl reciting sardonic lyrics over his loopy guitar and tough rhythm section, known as "The Heartless Bastards" is an irresistible combination. The highlight was the hilarious "Choctaw Bingo," a twisted tale of a family reunion for an Okie meth lab operator. Mike Judge should make a cartoon of this song.

* Otis Taylor also was mighty, though toward the middle of his set the rain finally convinced me to leave the area in front of the stage to the dry comfort of the KSFR booth. Otis is my favorite living bluesman (watch Pasatiempo during the next couple of weeks for my review of his excellent new album Below the Fold.) Taylor's new band isgood, though not quite as powerful as the lineup of Kenny Pasarelli and Eddie Turner, who played with him last time he performed at Thirsty Ear.

* Goshen has been around Santa Fe for 10 years or so, but yesterday was the first time I've ever seen them live -- and it was all I'd hoped it would be. Slide guitarist Grant Hayunga is the center of the group, which yesterday included Hundred Year Flood's Palmer boys backing him up -- Jim on drums, Bill on keyboards. They sounded like Bo Diddley on crystal meth.

Goshen and Flood are part of the Frogville Records clan (as is Joe West, ThaMuseMeant, etc.). Frogville definitely is the coolest thing going on musically in Santa Fe these days. I love seeing these guys out at each other's gigs, supporting each other, etc. Santa Fe has to support them too. Go to their shows. Buy their CDs.

Gots to go.