
In the midst of all my mid-life reflection last week, I received an email from a guy I hadn’t heard from in
twenty years. John* had tracked me down through the massive power of the Internet, so of course, I immediately directed him to the Basement Songs (we writers are kind of narcissistic that way). After a friendly exchange of e-mails that detailed an overview of our lives, John checked out a couple of my columns and wrote me a follow up e-mail. He told me to disregard the previous e-mail as bullshit. He then wrote one of the most confessional letters that has ever shown up in my Gmail inbox. I’m not going to go into details because his life isn’t an open book like mine (again, narcissism), but I will say that John had a rough time in the ’90s. Happily, through the love of a good woman who never gave up on him, he’s dug himself out and now leads a happier life.
I understood what he was talking about. I went through a period of months a couple years ago in which I suffered through a paralyzing depression. I couldn’t see the light at the end of the tunnel and each day it got harder and harder to get up and face life. I, too, am lucky that I had a good woman and good friends to help me through the times and to right the course of my life. Have you ever experienced that? Have you ever tripped into the dark sides of your psyche and dragged your loved ones with you? If you haven’t been through that hell, then you, my friend, are fortunate. (more…)

Ever since George Clooney lip-synched his way through Dan Tyminski’s version of “I am a Man of Constant Sorrow” in the Coen Brothers’ 

The stifling heatwave that gripped southern California for a full week blew away just in time for Robert Plant and Alison Krauss to fill L.A.’s Greek Theatre with music and people for two nights early this week. Unfortunately, while the music was quite wonderful, many of the concertgoers at Monday’s gig seemed kinda miffed – or at least nonplussed.
It’s a shame, really, because in their ambivalence they may not have noticed what a remarkable show the “Raising Sand revue,” as Plant has labeled it, truly is. Using the album’s riveting blend of R&B, early-rock and gospel covers as a springboard, Plant, Krauss and Burnett retrofitted classics from the Zep catalog (“Black Dog,” “The Battle of Evermore”) as well as a Ray Charles chestnut (“Leave My Woman Alone”) and a couple old-timey hymns. During one centerpiece of the set, Krauss’ always-virtuosic fiddle easily replaced the synths that once washed over Plant’s solo hit “In the Mood”; in mid-song she briefly banished contemporary music altogether to indulge in a couple verses of the 17th-century Child ballad “Mattie Groves.” 