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Grant Alden

Ruby Johnson: A glorious (re)discovery

The twenty sides Ruby Johnson recorded for Stax/Volt in 1966-68 were finally released in something like album format in 1993, assembled under the title of the first track, I'll Run Your Hurt Away. It appears to have been reissued subsequently -- somewhere -- with seven additional tracks

The revival of Chip Robinson, backslider

In the shadows of memory I remain convinced that once I saw the Backsliders, of Raleigh, North Carolina, perform. This is probably not true, because generally I associate such things with specific venues and other oddments. In my memory, they were on the fateful bill with Whiskeytown at SXSW, that

Jompson Brothers: I have seen the future

of rock 'n' roll. If it has a future. Which is not to pile upon Chris Stapleton's new group any of the foolishness which Dave Marsh's breathless, glorious, joyous hyperbole racked up for Bruce Springsteen. This is not Time magazine, and the Jompsons owe

Creedence Clearwater Revisited. Really. Really?

I don't get that many press releases anymore, so I shouldn't be such a crab, right? And it doesn't matter, anyhow. Still. This one needs sharing. I happen to like the publicist who sent this out, and so I've removed the firm&

My back-roads affair with the Frizzell brothers

The truth of my headline is this: Neither my wife, nor my daughter, can stand the sound of twang. Not a bit, except Maggie can maybe tolerate Johnny Cash every once in a while and Susan can listen to the Dixie Chicks when not provoked. And since I no longer

The wayward taleof Will T. Massey

The Seattle to which San Angelo, Texas, native Will T. Massey moved circa 1990 he was, what? 20 years old? was a location sought by way of retreat, an end-of-the-road place that had not yet become the center of genetic engineering, gaming, Microsoft, and grunge. It was still a cheap

A disquisition on the centrality of love and faith in the music of Buddy Miller

Where to begin, this ending? With the thing that has always mattered most: The music. In the spring of 1998, the fourteenth edition of this magazine proclaimed Alejandro Escovedo to be Artist Of The Decade. It was a puckish thing to have done, set off by the live More Miles