All OVER THE SCHMAP

Three of my photos on FLICKR recently have been chosen for Schmap, an online travel guide.

Two of them are in the section on Isotopes Park in Albuquerque. ( CLICK HERE, then click the Isotopes Park section. Click the arrows by the photo slideshow and you'll eventually come across mine.)


There's also a photo I took in the Hard Rock Cafe in Denver last year. (CLICK HERE, same drill as above. Look for The Monkees' toy guitar display.)

2007 THIRSTY EAR FESTIVAL SUNDAY

CLICK HERE TO SEE MY FESTIVAL PHOTOS

This little festival keeps getting better and better, and I've been to every one. Sunday was even better than Saturday (for one thing there wasn't any significant rain.)

I got to the Eaves Ranch a little late Sunday. Richard Johnson had already started his set.

I'd heard his name through the years, but until yesterday, I didn't even realize that he is a bona fide grungy one-man blues band, in the John Schooley/Scott H. Biram/Bob Logg school.

The man from Memphis plays drums using foot pedals (sometimes bashing the cymbals with his hand, and plays slide guitar as well as a homemade stringed instrument fashioned from two broom handles, a cigar box and a radiator clamp.

Johnston specializes in the Hill Country blues of R.L. Burnside, Junior Kimbrough and Jessie Mae Hemphill, though he confessed to loving the hillbilly blues of Hank Williams -- and I'd swear I could hear a little Roger Miller in him too. Johnston was just a whole lot of fun.


After Johnston's set a friend asked me if I'd ever heard of the cowboy poet Jerry Faires. I told him I've known Jerry for more than 25 years, but I never knew him to be a "cowboy poet."

Well, Hell! Seeing Jerry's solo performance in the Eaves Ranch hotel made me realize that Jerry has talents I never knew he had. He sang some songs but in between he recited original poems, amusing tales of aged old honky tonkers, cowboys trying to figure out health-food fads, etc.

Jerry says he doesn't call what he does "cowboy poetry," but it's close to that art form in spirit at least. He's funny, poignant and always entertaining. And, oh yeah, I still love his songs.

The Flatlanders was the act that excited me the most in this year's Thirsty Ear lineup. I've seen them play a couple of times at South by Southwest in Austin, but both times they've played in Santa Fe as a group in recent years I've been out of town.

I knew they'd be great -- how could Joe Ely, Jimmie Dale Gilmore and Butch Hancock not be great? But on Sunday The Flatlanders were incredible. These guys rocked! (Sorry I didn't catch the name of the lead guitarist. Lots of people were commenting on how much he added to the group.) Their version of Townes Van Zandt's "White Freight Liner Blues" was breathtaking, the three singers swapping verses. But their take on "Dallas" Sunday has to be the best version of that tune ever performed in human history. (Jimmie Dale wrote it, Ely's version is the best known, but the first time I heard this song was at a Butch show at Club West in the early '80s.)


Somehow Corey Harris' set just didn't click with me Sunday. Maybe it was because his set was mainly Caribbean-style music instead of the blues that made us love him in the first place. Or maybe it was because The Flatlanders set was so high-energy.

For me it probably was the former. I'm not a blues Nazi or anything and I sure don't mind artists experimenting with new sounds. I like Corey's music and have several of his albums. It's cool how he finds common ground between Mississippi blues and other African based music, such as reggae.

But somehow Sunday he just didn't seem to have the fire.


Michael Doucet and his merry band of Cajuns was a fitting way to close the festival.

Two years ago BeauSoleil played Thirsty Ear just days after Hurricane Katrina. (Doucet told the audience that it was actually Hurricane Rita, which came after Katrina in 2005 that damaged their homes in Southewestern Louisiana).

So this year's set understandably wasn't quite as urgent as the last time they were here. But it still was a blast.

And so was the Thirsty Ear Festival. On a technical note I want to personally thank Koster and crew for putting in some lights in the parking area. That really helped. And I want to publically thank Koster's mom for helping me with a heavy ice chest Saturday morning.

Now if they only bring back a BBQ vendor next year, (and find a way for it not to rain!) it'll be perfect.


Probably due to exhaustion yesterday I forgot to mention the fine bouzouki set by Chipper Thompson and Roger Landis in the hotel Saturday. I'm a huge Chipper fan. I hope to see his full band on stage next year. That was one of the surprise highlights of last year's festival.


Finally, here's little music review I found written on a port-a-potty wall. Who needs a blog when you got restroom walls?



UPDATE: (Tuesday afternoon) My old neighbor Jimmy Lee Hanaford wrote to inform me that The Flatlanders' excellent guitarist is one Robbie Gjersoe who also has played with Robbie Fulks. Thanks, Jimmy!

TERRELL'S SOUND WORLD PLAYLIST

Most of you probably figured out by the Thirsty Ear post below that I wasn't doing my radio shows this weekend. Tom Adler subbed for me Friday on The Santa Fe Opry. For Terrell's Sound World, I pre-recorded a show through the magic of computers.

Here's the playlist, (coming more than 30 minutes early.)

I'll post my wrap-up of the Thirsty Ear Festival probab ly late morning Monday. Right now, suffice it to say that Sunday, if anything, was even better than Saturday.

Sunday, September 2, 2007
KSFR, Santa Fe, N.M.
Webcasting!
10 p.m. to midnight Sundays Mountain Time
Host: Steve Terrell
email me during the show! terrell@ksfr.org

Now Simulcasting 90.7 FM, and out new, stronger signal, 101.1 FM

OPENING THEME: Let it Out (Let it All Hang Out) by The Hombres
The W.A.N.D. by the Flaming Lips
Earthquake by The 13th Floor Elevators
The Sky is a Poisonouse Garden by Concrete Blonde
Killing Me by Dead Moon
Justine Allright by Jon Spencer with The Sadies
The Orange Monster by The Gluey Brothers
Ms. Pinky by Frank Zappa
Speed the Tractor by 3 Mustaphas 3

Loose by Buick MacKane
Carry Stress in the Jaw by Mr. Bungle
Feet Music by John Zorn
Hypno Tease by James Chance
Sad Little Bug by April March

Lost in Laos by Dengue Fever
Super Taranta by Gogol Bordello
God Save the Queen by Opium Jukebox
Jatne by Kult
Menyeckse by Atomic Bomb Zigoto

One Better by Les Claypool
I've Been Watching You (Move Your Sexy Body) by Paliament
Let's Stay Together by Al Green
Stick to the Plan by Graham Parker
Don't Drive Me Away by The Staples Singers
CLOSING THEME: Over the Rainbow by Jerry Lee Lewis

2007 THIRSTY EAR FESTIVAL SATURDAY

Actually it's Sunday. I was too exhausted to write anything last night, especially after processing my photos.

Speaking of those pictures, I hope you people appreciate 'em. My right ear is still ringing from standing too close to the amps trying to get decent angles. The sacrifices I make for this blog!

It's no secret how much I love this festival. Hard to believe it's been going on since 1999 (except for one year ). Along with Fiesta, it's become my end of summer ritual. There's friends and acquaintances I see at Thirsty Ear that I never see any other time or place (which might just prove what a relative hermit I'm becoming in my middle age).

There's also a lot of music. Friday night, as has been the case with the festival in recent years, is basically a night for local musicians. I made it to the Eaves Ranch Friday in time to catch Michael Hearne' s South by Southwest (who did a fine version of Eliza Gilkyson's cool Elvis song, "Tennessee Roads") and local blues wunderkind Ryan McGarvey.

Saturday was an especially fine day of music, from the opening act on.

Songwriter Todd Snider opened Saturday's festival. It was just the man and his guitar and he reminded me of a younger John Prine. (Snider actually recorded a few albums on Prine's Oh Boy label these days.)

He didn't perform his song that was a kind-of local hit about 15 years ago, ("Alright Guy"), but he did his song about D.B. Cooper , his talking blues about "Louie Louie" and Marilyn Manson ("The Ballad of The Kingsmen"), one called "Conservative Christian, Right Wing, Republican, Straight, White, American Males," and a weird little ditty called "Enjoy Yourself," which he said comes from a Doris Day record that his parents used to dance around the kitchen to.

Acoustic bluesman Guy Davis was next on the main stage, also doing a solo set. He's played Thirsty Ear at least once before and as always he was a delight. Davis, son of actors Ossie Davis and Ruby Dee, has a wonderful gravel-throat voice that makes him sound like a melodic Froggy the Gremlin. He plays guitar, banjo and harmonica. My favorite song he did Saturday was the double-entendre laden "Chocolate Man."

I later saw Guy roaming around the festival grounds and interrupted him as he was eating a Roque's carnita.


I've had a turnabout with the next act, The Be Good Tanyas. When they played the festival last year, I was frankly unimpressed. I didn't even blog about them. But a few weeks ago I heard a recording of a few songs of that very performance on Southwest Stages (which airs on KSFR just before the Santa Fe Opry on Friday nights.) It sounded great. I guess I just wasn't in the mood last last year. They do play a brand of soft girlie folk, so I do have to be in the mood, but there's plenty of dark edges in their music.

They did a good set yesterday, even though one of the Tanyas (Tonya Harding I believe) was missing.


Acoustic time was over when blues guitar stud Joe Louis Walker took the stage. The crowd was ready to rock and so was Walker and his excellent band.

Basically, Walker does the basics. He plays good, steady blues without a lot of cheap flash and dazzle. He's not trying to be the next Hendrix, he just plays electric blues in a way that made us love the blues in the first place.

Did I mention his excellent band? Especially impressive was his keyboard player (whose name I didn't get). We actually were lucky to get to see Walker yesterday. He missed his plane Saturday morning but was able to make it to Santa Fe without significant delay. Maybe the brief rain storm in the afternoon was a stalling tactic.


When Robert Earl Keen's band started playing, the band launched into a mellow, lopping groove with a guitar part that started sounding more and more familiar. It took me a second, but I realized they were playing the intro to The Grateful Dead's "China Cat Sunflower." But then Earl started singing his own song, "Dreadful Selfish Crime."

Keen did a strong set including some of his best-known songs including "Gringo Honeymoon" and, of course, "The Road Goes On Forever." However he sounded hurried singing that song, which was his encore, as if he were late to an appointment. My only other complaint was that, unlike last time I saw REK, Terry Allen didn't join him on stage. Keen did acknowledge Allen as the songwriter though.


But the real disappointment was Rosie LeDet & The Zydeco Playboys. Not the band. They started off rocking. But right when they started, so did the rain. And it didn't let up. When the thunder getting as loud as the drums, Rosie and band decided, wisely, to play it safe.

Let's pray the weather holds up today. The Flatlanders, Beausoleil and others are on deck.

Come say hi to me at the KSFR booth.

TERRELL'S TUNEUP: ROKY'S ROAD

A version of this was published in The Santa Fe New Mexican
August 31, 2007

“An explorer of the mind and a pioneer of the heart”

That’s how Kinky Friedman described Roky Erikson, founding member of the ’60s group the 13th Floor Elevators, when introducing the psychedelic warrior at the 2005 Austin City Limits Music Festival. Roky, bless his troubled soul, looked strangely dignified, though not a little bemused, as he ripped into a version of “Cold Night for Alligators,” a powerful song of paranoia and horror from a tumultuous period in his life.

Of course, most of Roky’s life has been tumultuous, as is made clear by director Keven McAlester’s documentary You’re Gonna Miss Me, recently released on DVD.

This is a must-have for Roky fans. In addition to the documentary itself, the DVD contains loads of extras, including musical performances (though not nearly enough with full bands); weird poetry readings; and an unbelievable Erikson home movie — made by Roky’s mother, Evelyn — in which Roky is crowned “King of the Beasts.”

This isn’t your typical rockumentary. Sure, it features lots of famous folks — Patti Smith; members of ZZ Top and Sonic Youth; and even Santa Fe’s Angry Samoan, Gregg Turner — praising Erikson’s wild talent and piercing voice. There’s some sentimental gushing over the rise of the 13th Floor Elevators — credited with being the first band to use the word psychedelic to describe itself. And McAlester includes a black-and-white clip from the band’s mid-’60s appearance on American Bandstand, with Roky singing the hit that provided the film’s title.

There’s also an interview with Dick Clark.

“Who is the head man of the group here, gentlemen?” America’s Oldest Teenager asks.
Jug player Tommy Hall doesn’t miss the opportunity. “Well, we’re all heads,” he deadpans.

But the DVD also shows how the psychedelic pipe dream went sour. The drugs got harder, and the trips got crazier. And when Roky got busted for marijuana possession — then a felony in the great state of Texas — he pleaded insanity and ended up in a hospital for the criminally insane. McAlester interviews Roky’s psychiatrist from that stint, who recalls that Roky joined a band made up of patients. The doctor recalls, “one had killed his parents and one of his siblings. ... He played guitar.”

For years after his release, Roky’s mental state was iffy at best. In the late ’70s, he recorded what is hands-down his greatest album, The Evil One, which features frightening lyrics about devils, ghosts, and monsters of the id. Interviews with those who knew him then indicate that such apparitions were very real to Roky.

By the 1990s, Roky had hit bottom. His hair was matted, his teeth were a mess, he was overweight, and he looked dazed and confused. In his small apartment in Austin, he used an array of radios, televisions, and other electronic devices to create a weird cacophony intended to keep the demons away, and he would catalog pieces of junk mail as if they were priceless documents.

McAlester delves into what became a struggle between Evelyn and three of Roky’s brothers. Dead set against giving Roky medication for his mental problems, Evelyn is portrayed as being crazier than her infamous son. She’s a frustrated artist herself — she wrote poetry and filmed her own plays (some of those films are included in the DVD extras). With her scrapbooks, her Hobby Lobby artwork, her maudlin piano playing, and her long-abandoned swimming pool — cracked and overgrown with weeds — the well-meaning Evelyn starts to look like the villain in McAlester’s film.

All sorts of family shadows come to light in the film — depression, drugs, alcoholism, abuse, and other manifestations of dysfunction. Roky’s brother Sumner talks about, as a child, having to yell before going into the kitchen, in order to scare away the rats. A disheveled Roky reads a disturbing poem called “I Know the Hole in Baby’s Head,” which tells the story of a family helpless in the face of constant fighting, crying infants, accumulating garbage, and bad smells.

Sumner got into a court battle with his mother over guardianship of Roky and, in 2001, won the case. Roky moved in with him, started a regimen of medication, and even began to play music again. In one of the film’s final scenes, from 2002, he’s singing a haunting song with the refrain, “Goodbye sweet dreams, goodbye sweet dreams.”

But there are two postscripts. One is about Roky’s performance at the Austin City Limits Music Festival in 2005. In the footage, he still looks pretty spacey but seems happy, soaking up the cheer from well-wishers in his hometown. But more surprising is a sequence shot earlier this year. Roky, Sumner, and Evelyn are back in the courtroom, but this time everyone is happy. Roky is off his meds and, according to everyone there, doing great. The judge agrees that Roky is doing better, rules that Roky is “fully capacitated,” and restores all his rights.

Outside the courtroom, Sumner nods adoringly as a new psychologist, one we don’t see in the main film, talks about his philosophy of mental illness.

“This whole concept of mental illness is a metaphor for physical illness, and it doesn’t really exist,” he says. “Schizophrenia is a made-up, garbage term that’s used to describe people who are troubled or troubling or that are in extreme states of mind that we don’t understand and are afraid of. ... Roky’s not mentally ill and never was. His story needs to be reinterpreted, and that’s why I’m here.”

In other words, Sumner has come around to Evelyn’s way of thinking about psychiatric medication.

So it goes, as Kurt Vonnegut might have said.

But while watching this part of the DVD, something twisted in me reminded me of one of my favorite songs from The Evil One, and in my head I could hear the voice of the old, haunted Roky: “I am the doctor/I am the psychiatrist. ... I never hammered my mind out/I never had the bloody hammer.”