Just another day in delirium......

Bang your fucking drums and throw a parade. This week's flavor is here. It doesn't matter if you buy it, sell it, or even like it...all that matters is that its new and you acknowledge it. Keep taking sides - like it matters. As you draw your last breath, what will your last thought be? Will you die content that you backed a winner or will you simply hope that someone remembers your name? News flash: you won't live forever. By the time you care, it's probably too late anyway. Until then, you'll pay for poison and neglect your children into submission. The electric babysitter is dead but there's a wireless village waiting to raise them for you. All you have to do is breed more than the others and consume. Thinking isn't cool...it never has been. That's what Jesus Washington said in the Bible's Bill of Rights. There's no genius in homogeneous. Pledge allegiance to the Corporations that kill your land. Enjoy the chemicals you ingest and digest and crap back out into the rivers. You've come a long way baby...but you're still just a slave. Fed a lie of freedom, you wait for the bells to ring. School bells, lunch bells, church bells - ding dong, conformity calling. Punch a clock, be a rock, be all you can be. Uncle Sam doesn't want you...but he does need you. He needs you to believe. Fairy tales have happy endings...at least once upon a time they did. Mommy lied when she told you to share. All you have to be is better than everyone else. All you have to do is believe. The founding fathers believed in slavery...nothing has changed. The emancipation was proclaimed, but like forgotten luggage, remains unclaimed. The few still own the many, by way of jobs and dollars and pennies. The story's the same, and we're all to blame; too busy waiting for someone else to do something for us.

(Damn...I should've been a beatnik)

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Clearing up the Great Gretsch/Rockabilly Sham!

I've had a long-standing friendly argument with a couple of friends about guitars. This has gone on for 20+ years. We're all pickers, and we're all usually lumped under the rockabilly category too. They both love Gretsch guitars. I can take them or leave them. Rockabilly fans have asked me many times why I don't play a Gretsch, which is often associated with rockabilly music. First, I point out that what I play ain't exactly rockabilly. Sure, there's a definite rockabilly influence...but there's also blues, jazz, surf, garage, punk, country, Tex-Mex, and even some Gypsy & African influences in my music. A Gretsch just ain't gonna cut it. Don't get me wrong, Gretsches have their place and their own, unique sound. But...for a picker who is coming from the afore-mentioned influences, a Gretsch just ain't gonna cut it. The new Gretsches, mostly reissues, are well-made guitars. MUCH better made than the original ones, which tended to ...

Since they changed YOUR life, how about YOU changing someone else's?

The recent deaths of Lemmy and David Bowie have caused a mighty ripple through humankind. People that I never would've guessed to be "fans" have shown their true colors. An old lady I know, it turns out, is a huge Motorhead fan. Folks I work with, who seem much more at home listening to bland modern country, have vocalized their lifelong love of Bowie's music and movies. These two musicians changed a lot of lives for the better. Both died of cancer. As a two-time cancer survivor, as well as being a musician, their death hit home with me...and hit hard. I was lucky enough, both times, to not only survive but to also have decent health insurance at the time. My out of pocket costs were minimal. Many aren't so lucky. With Obamacare we're all forced to pony up for affordable health insurance...or be fined. For many, it's just not feasible. One of the groups hardest hit by the US health care nightmare is musicians. Professional musicians make their liv...

Colin Hardy: We'll Meet Again

2026 has been off to a rough start. Not even a month in, and I’ve already lost a few friends. Now, before anyone reaches for the tiny violins and assumes I’m whinging - relax. I’m not. Yes, it always hurts to lose someone, but I’ve learned to use moments like these to lean into the good memories: the reasons we got along in the first place. This morning, I found out my old buddy Colin Hardy passed away over the weekend. Col hailed from Stoke-On-Trent (which I always jokingly called Stoke-On-Rye ). He was a working-class bloke through and through, but we shared a deep love of music — especially the old-school rockin’ variety. We first crossed paths on a music-sharing site and immediately began raiding each other’s collections. This was back in the dial-up days, when downloading a single MP3 could take half an hour if the phone didn’t ring. Eventually, we started emailing instead. Col sent me tracks by the likes of Crazy Cavan, Freddie Fingers Lee, and others. He was always hungry f...

The Real Memphis Mike (don't settle for imitations)

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