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The suspicion lingers that somewhere in Nashville -- a front porch, a living room, a converted garage with a well-stocked refrigerator -- the best songwriters sit and trade works-in-progress late into the night, and magic happens. Well, some of 'em do hang out together, and sometimes there are rumors

After more than a decade apart, these three founding Byrds reconvened at the end of the '70s. Rather than echoing the classic early Byrds, their collaboration resembled the bands of diminishing potency who had followed in their wake -- Poco, Manassas, Firefall. Roger McGuinn's 12-string jangle is

There are bad singers, and then there are good bad singers. Bad singers just make you wince at their ineptitude, either in sympathy or in horror. Good bad singers, meanwhile, can get you to dig their mood so much that you don't mind the cracked notes. When you

"The World's A Mess; It's In My Kiss" -- Los Angeles' closing track aptly encapsulates X's sustaining power and accomplishment: wresting the universal from deeply felt personal experience. Again and again, these poets-turned-punks capture the telling detail -- snatches of overheard

A percussive truthfulness. A synthesis of conflict and beauty. A futuristic maturity. An opening out toward multidimensionality through simplicity. -- Yusef Komunyakaa Aw take my picture, hang it up in Jackson's wall Aw take my picture, hang it up in Jackson's wall Anybody asks you "