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Friday Quickies: Dinosaur Jr.

Quote from Village Voice]

A few months ago I decided to clear out my increasingly unwieldy music wish list on Amazon.  So the plan was to either buy it, viagra sales stuff delete it or move it to a new Maybe List, viagra sale sale which resulted in cutting down the primary list from 135 to 29 albums.

Examples of music I deleted from the list include Hank Williams’ Unreleased Recordings box set (I bought the abridged version on vinyl instead), Tom Waits’ Bone Machine (I love the man, but I just can’t do it), Magnetic Fields’ The Wayward Bus (ok, really, I don’t need to have everything they ever released).

Music I moved to the Maybe List include Harper Simon’ self-titled album (yes, that’s Paul’s son; I like it, but need to listen a few more times), Lambchop’ Oh (Ohio) (I don’t know why I don’t just pull the trigger on this one), The Grand Archives’ self-titled album (founded by former member of Band of Horses).

Music I bought include Josh Rouse’s Nashville (it’s a shame his music isn’t more prominent), Fountains of Wayne’s Utopia Parkway (why not!), Elliott Smith’s Figure 8 (I have no excuse for letting this linger for so long), The Last Town Chorus’ Wire Waltz (see below).

I admit I’m a sucker for somber, melancholic music, and Megan Hickey of The Last Town Chorus serves it up on a cosmic-size palette of atmospheric lap-steel guitar and ethereal vocals.  The album’s elegiac quality is perfect for those lonely nights on the patio under the stars (without the noisy, upper-middle class white trash neighbors around).  There are echoes of Spiritualized’s spacey soundscape, but Hickey is mindful of the underlying folk-country essence.  Her voice reminds me of Belly’s Tanya Donelly, and her lap-steel guitar style reminds me of, well, no one – it’s utterly unique for that instrument.

Wire Waltz, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

Modern Love, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).  Yes, it is indeed a David Bowie cover, but completely re-invented.

Caroline, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

As a bonus: Feed The Tree, Belly (from Star, 1993).  God, I can’t believe this was 16 years ago.
Quote from Village Voice]

A few months ago I decided to clear out my increasingly unwieldy music wish list on Amazon.  So the plan was to either buy it, viagra sales stuff delete it or move it to a new Maybe List, viagra sale sale which resulted in cutting down the primary list from 135 to 29 albums.

Examples of music I deleted from the list include Hank Williams’ Unreleased Recordings box set (I bought the abridged version on vinyl instead), Tom Waits’ Bone Machine (I love the man, but I just can’t do it), Magnetic Fields’ The Wayward Bus (ok, really, I don’t need to have everything they ever released).

Music I moved to the Maybe List include Harper Simon’ self-titled album (yes, that’s Paul’s son; I like it, but need to listen a few more times), Lambchop’ Oh (Ohio) (I don’t know why I don’t just pull the trigger on this one), The Grand Archives’ self-titled album (founded by former member of Band of Horses).

Music I bought include Josh Rouse’s Nashville (it’s a shame his music isn’t more prominent), Fountains of Wayne’s Utopia Parkway (why not!), Elliott Smith’s Figure 8 (I have no excuse for letting this linger for so long), The Last Town Chorus’ Wire Waltz (see below).

I admit I’m a sucker for somber, melancholic music, and Megan Hickey of The Last Town Chorus serves it up on a cosmic-size palette of atmospheric lap-steel guitar and ethereal vocals.  The album’s elegiac quality is perfect for those lonely nights on the patio under the stars (without the noisy, upper-middle class white trash neighbors around).  There are echoes of Spiritualized’s spacey soundscape, but Hickey is mindful of the underlying folk-country essence.  Her voice reminds me of Belly’s Tanya Donelly, and her lap-steel guitar style reminds me of, well, no one – it’s utterly unique for that instrument.

Wire Waltz, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

Modern Love, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).  Yes, it is indeed a David Bowie cover, but completely re-invented.

Caroline, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

As a bonus: Feed The Tree, Belly (from Star, 1993).  God, I can’t believe this was 16 years ago.
[Quote from Village Voice]

A few months ago I decided to clear out my increasingly unwieldy music wish list on Amazon.  So the plan was to either buy it, best viagra buy delete it or move it to a new Maybe List, cialis sales recipe which resulted in cutting down the primary list from 135 to 29 albums.

Examples of music I deleted from the list include Hank Williams’ Unreleased Recordings box set (I bought the abridged version on vinyl instead), treat Tom Waits’ Bone Machine (I love the man, but I just can’t do it), Magnetic Fields’ The Wayward Bus (ok, really, I don’t need to have everything they ever released).

Music I moved to the Maybe List include Harper Simon’ self-titled album (yes, that’s Paul’s son; I like it, but need to listen a few more times), Lambchop’s Oh (Ohio) (I don’t know why I don’t just pull the trigger on this one), The Grand Archives’ self-titled album (founded by former member of Band of Horses).

Music I bought include Josh Rouse’s Nashville (it’s a shame his music isn’t more prominent), Fountains of Wayne’s Utopia Parkway (why not!), Elliott Smith’s Figure 8 (I have no excuse for letting this linger for so long), The Last Town Chorus’ Wire Waltz (see below).

I admit I’m a sucker for somber, melancholic music, and Megan Hickey of The Last Town Chorus serves it up on a cosmic-size palette of atmospheric lap-steel guitar and ethereal vocals.  The album’s elegiac quality is perfect for those lonely nights on the patio under the stars (without the noisy, upper-middle class white trash neighbors around).  There are echoes of Spiritualized’s spacey soundscape, but Hickey is mindful of the underlying folk-country essence.  Her voice reminds me of Belly’s Tanya Donelly, and her lap-steel guitar style reminds me of, well, no one – it’s utterly unique for that instrument (but perhaps similar to The Edge on electric guitar).

Wire Waltz, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

Modern Love, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).  Yes, it is indeed a David Bowie cover, but completely re-invented.

Caroline, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

As a bonus: Feed The Tree, Belly (from Star, 1993).  God, I can’t believe this was 16 years ago.
Quote from Village Voice]

A few months ago I decided to clear out my increasingly unwieldy music wish list on Amazon.  So the plan was to either buy it, viagra sales stuff delete it or move it to a new Maybe List, viagra sale sale which resulted in cutting down the primary list from 135 to 29 albums.

Examples of music I deleted from the list include Hank Williams’ Unreleased Recordings box set (I bought the abridged version on vinyl instead), Tom Waits’ Bone Machine (I love the man, but I just can’t do it), Magnetic Fields’ The Wayward Bus (ok, really, I don’t need to have everything they ever released).

Music I moved to the Maybe List include Harper Simon’ self-titled album (yes, that’s Paul’s son; I like it, but need to listen a few more times), Lambchop’ Oh (Ohio) (I don’t know why I don’t just pull the trigger on this one), The Grand Archives’ self-titled album (founded by former member of Band of Horses).

Music I bought include Josh Rouse’s Nashville (it’s a shame his music isn’t more prominent), Fountains of Wayne’s Utopia Parkway (why not!), Elliott Smith’s Figure 8 (I have no excuse for letting this linger for so long), The Last Town Chorus’ Wire Waltz (see below).

I admit I’m a sucker for somber, melancholic music, and Megan Hickey of The Last Town Chorus serves it up on a cosmic-size palette of atmospheric lap-steel guitar and ethereal vocals.  The album’s elegiac quality is perfect for those lonely nights on the patio under the stars (without the noisy, upper-middle class white trash neighbors around).  There are echoes of Spiritualized’s spacey soundscape, but Hickey is mindful of the underlying folk-country essence.  Her voice reminds me of Belly’s Tanya Donelly, and her lap-steel guitar style reminds me of, well, no one – it’s utterly unique for that instrument.

Wire Waltz, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

Modern Love, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).  Yes, it is indeed a David Bowie cover, but completely re-invented.

Caroline, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

As a bonus: Feed The Tree, Belly (from Star, 1993).  God, I can’t believe this was 16 years ago.
[Quote from Village Voice]

A few months ago I decided to clear out my increasingly unwieldy music wish list on Amazon.  So the plan was to either buy it, best viagra buy delete it or move it to a new Maybe List, cialis sales recipe which resulted in cutting down the primary list from 135 to 29 albums.

Examples of music I deleted from the list include Hank Williams’ Unreleased Recordings box set (I bought the abridged version on vinyl instead), treat Tom Waits’ Bone Machine (I love the man, but I just can’t do it), Magnetic Fields’ The Wayward Bus (ok, really, I don’t need to have everything they ever released).

Music I moved to the Maybe List include Harper Simon’ self-titled album (yes, that’s Paul’s son; I like it, but need to listen a few more times), Lambchop’s Oh (Ohio) (I don’t know why I don’t just pull the trigger on this one), The Grand Archives’ self-titled album (founded by former member of Band of Horses).

Music I bought include Josh Rouse’s Nashville (it’s a shame his music isn’t more prominent), Fountains of Wayne’s Utopia Parkway (why not!), Elliott Smith’s Figure 8 (I have no excuse for letting this linger for so long), The Last Town Chorus’ Wire Waltz (see below).

I admit I’m a sucker for somber, melancholic music, and Megan Hickey of The Last Town Chorus serves it up on a cosmic-size palette of atmospheric lap-steel guitar and ethereal vocals.  The album’s elegiac quality is perfect for those lonely nights on the patio under the stars (without the noisy, upper-middle class white trash neighbors around).  There are echoes of Spiritualized’s spacey soundscape, but Hickey is mindful of the underlying folk-country essence.  Her voice reminds me of Belly’s Tanya Donelly, and her lap-steel guitar style reminds me of, well, no one – it’s utterly unique for that instrument (but perhaps similar to The Edge on electric guitar).

Wire Waltz, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

Modern Love, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).  Yes, it is indeed a David Bowie cover, but completely re-invented.

Caroline, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

As a bonus: Feed The Tree, Belly (from Star, 1993).  God, I can’t believe this was 16 years ago.
[Quote from Village Voice]

A few months ago I decided to clear out my increasingly unwieldy music wish list on Amazon.  So the plan was to either buy it, viagra sale diagnosis delete it or move it to a new Maybe List, cialis which resulted in cutting down the primary list from 135 to 29 albums.

Examples of music I deleted from the list include Hank Williams’ Unreleased Recordings box set (I bought the abridged version on vinyl instead), Tom Waits’ Bone Machine (I love the man, but I just can’t do it), Magnetic Fields’ The Wayward Bus (ok, really, I don’t need to have everything they ever released).

Music I moved to the Maybe List include Harper Simon’ self-titled album (yes, that’s Paul’s son; I like it, but need to listen a few more times), Lambchop’s Oh (Ohio) (I don’t know why I don’t just pull the trigger on this one), The Grand Archives’ self-titled album (founded by former member of Band of Horses).

Music I bought include Josh Rouse’s Nashville (it’s a shame his music isn’t more prominent), Fountains of Wayne’s Utopia Parkway (why not!), Elliott Smith’s Figure 8 (I have no excuse for letting this linger for so long), The Last Town Chorus’ Wire Waltz (see below).

I admit I’m a sucker for somber, melancholic music, and Megan Hickey of The Last Town Chorus serves it up on a cosmic-size palette of atmospheric lap-steel guitar and ethereal vocals.  The album’s elegiac quality is perfect for those lonely nights on the patio under the stars (without the noisy, upper-middle class white trash neighbors around).  There are echoes of Spiritualized’s spacey soundscape, but Hickey is mindful of the underlying folk-country essence.  Her voice reminds me of Belly’s Tanya Donelly, and her lap-steel guitar style reminds me of, well, no one – it’s utterly unique for that instrument (but perhaps similar to The Edge on electric guitar).

Wire Waltz, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

Modern Love, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).  Yes, it is indeed a David Bowie cover, but completely re-invented.

Caroline, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

As a bonus: Feed The Tree, Belly (from Star, 1993).  God, I can’t believe this was 16 years ago.
Quote from Village Voice]

A few months ago I decided to clear out my increasingly unwieldy music wish list on Amazon.  So the plan was to either buy it, viagra sales stuff delete it or move it to a new Maybe List, viagra sale sale which resulted in cutting down the primary list from 135 to 29 albums.

Examples of music I deleted from the list include Hank Williams’ Unreleased Recordings box set (I bought the abridged version on vinyl instead), Tom Waits’ Bone Machine (I love the man, but I just can’t do it), Magnetic Fields’ The Wayward Bus (ok, really, I don’t need to have everything they ever released).

Music I moved to the Maybe List include Harper Simon’ self-titled album (yes, that’s Paul’s son; I like it, but need to listen a few more times), Lambchop’ Oh (Ohio) (I don’t know why I don’t just pull the trigger on this one), The Grand Archives’ self-titled album (founded by former member of Band of Horses).

Music I bought include Josh Rouse’s Nashville (it’s a shame his music isn’t more prominent), Fountains of Wayne’s Utopia Parkway (why not!), Elliott Smith’s Figure 8 (I have no excuse for letting this linger for so long), The Last Town Chorus’ Wire Waltz (see below).

I admit I’m a sucker for somber, melancholic music, and Megan Hickey of The Last Town Chorus serves it up on a cosmic-size palette of atmospheric lap-steel guitar and ethereal vocals.  The album’s elegiac quality is perfect for those lonely nights on the patio under the stars (without the noisy, upper-middle class white trash neighbors around).  There are echoes of Spiritualized’s spacey soundscape, but Hickey is mindful of the underlying folk-country essence.  Her voice reminds me of Belly’s Tanya Donelly, and her lap-steel guitar style reminds me of, well, no one – it’s utterly unique for that instrument.

Wire Waltz, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

Modern Love, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).  Yes, it is indeed a David Bowie cover, but completely re-invented.

Caroline, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

As a bonus: Feed The Tree, Belly (from Star, 1993).  God, I can’t believe this was 16 years ago.
[Quote from Village Voice]

A few months ago I decided to clear out my increasingly unwieldy music wish list on Amazon.  So the plan was to either buy it, best viagra buy delete it or move it to a new Maybe List, cialis sales recipe which resulted in cutting down the primary list from 135 to 29 albums.

Examples of music I deleted from the list include Hank Williams’ Unreleased Recordings box set (I bought the abridged version on vinyl instead), treat Tom Waits’ Bone Machine (I love the man, but I just can’t do it), Magnetic Fields’ The Wayward Bus (ok, really, I don’t need to have everything they ever released).

Music I moved to the Maybe List include Harper Simon’ self-titled album (yes, that’s Paul’s son; I like it, but need to listen a few more times), Lambchop’s Oh (Ohio) (I don’t know why I don’t just pull the trigger on this one), The Grand Archives’ self-titled album (founded by former member of Band of Horses).

Music I bought include Josh Rouse’s Nashville (it’s a shame his music isn’t more prominent), Fountains of Wayne’s Utopia Parkway (why not!), Elliott Smith’s Figure 8 (I have no excuse for letting this linger for so long), The Last Town Chorus’ Wire Waltz (see below).

I admit I’m a sucker for somber, melancholic music, and Megan Hickey of The Last Town Chorus serves it up on a cosmic-size palette of atmospheric lap-steel guitar and ethereal vocals.  The album’s elegiac quality is perfect for those lonely nights on the patio under the stars (without the noisy, upper-middle class white trash neighbors around).  There are echoes of Spiritualized’s spacey soundscape, but Hickey is mindful of the underlying folk-country essence.  Her voice reminds me of Belly’s Tanya Donelly, and her lap-steel guitar style reminds me of, well, no one – it’s utterly unique for that instrument (but perhaps similar to The Edge on electric guitar).

Wire Waltz, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

Modern Love, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).  Yes, it is indeed a David Bowie cover, but completely re-invented.

Caroline, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

As a bonus: Feed The Tree, Belly (from Star, 1993).  God, I can’t believe this was 16 years ago.
[Quote from Village Voice]

A few months ago I decided to clear out my increasingly unwieldy music wish list on Amazon.  So the plan was to either buy it, viagra sale diagnosis delete it or move it to a new Maybe List, cialis which resulted in cutting down the primary list from 135 to 29 albums.

Examples of music I deleted from the list include Hank Williams’ Unreleased Recordings box set (I bought the abridged version on vinyl instead), Tom Waits’ Bone Machine (I love the man, but I just can’t do it), Magnetic Fields’ The Wayward Bus (ok, really, I don’t need to have everything they ever released).

Music I moved to the Maybe List include Harper Simon’ self-titled album (yes, that’s Paul’s son; I like it, but need to listen a few more times), Lambchop’s Oh (Ohio) (I don’t know why I don’t just pull the trigger on this one), The Grand Archives’ self-titled album (founded by former member of Band of Horses).

Music I bought include Josh Rouse’s Nashville (it’s a shame his music isn’t more prominent), Fountains of Wayne’s Utopia Parkway (why not!), Elliott Smith’s Figure 8 (I have no excuse for letting this linger for so long), The Last Town Chorus’ Wire Waltz (see below).

I admit I’m a sucker for somber, melancholic music, and Megan Hickey of The Last Town Chorus serves it up on a cosmic-size palette of atmospheric lap-steel guitar and ethereal vocals.  The album’s elegiac quality is perfect for those lonely nights on the patio under the stars (without the noisy, upper-middle class white trash neighbors around).  There are echoes of Spiritualized’s spacey soundscape, but Hickey is mindful of the underlying folk-country essence.  Her voice reminds me of Belly’s Tanya Donelly, and her lap-steel guitar style reminds me of, well, no one – it’s utterly unique for that instrument (but perhaps similar to The Edge on electric guitar).

Wire Waltz, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

Modern Love, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).  Yes, it is indeed a David Bowie cover, but completely re-invented.

Caroline, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

As a bonus: Feed The Tree, Belly (from Star, 1993).  God, I can’t believe this was 16 years ago.
[Quote from Village Voice]

A few months ago I decided to clear out my increasingly unwieldy music wish list on Amazon.  So the plan was to either buy it, viagra generic generic delete it or move it to a new Maybe List, buy viagra which resulted in cutting down the primary list from 135 to 29 albums.

Examples of music I deleted from the list include Hank Williams’ Unreleased Recordings box set (I bought the abridged version on vinyl instead), Tom Waits’ Bone Machine (I love the man, but I just can’t do it), Magnetic Fields’ The Wayward Bus (ok, really, I don’t need to have everything they ever released).

Music I moved to the Maybe List include Harper Simon’ self-titled album (yes, that’s Paul’s son; I like it, but need to listen a few more times), Lambchop’s Oh (Ohio) (I don’t know why I don’t just pull the trigger on this one), The Grand Archives’ self-titled album (founded by former member of Band of Horses).

Music I bought include Josh Rouse’s Nashville (it’s a shame his music isn’t more prominent), Fountains of Wayne’s Utopia Parkway (why not!), Elliott Smith’s Figure 8 (I have no excuse for letting this linger for so long), The Last Town Chorus’ Wire Waltz (see below).

I admit I’m a sucker for somber, melancholic music, and Megan Hickey of The Last Town Chorus serves it up on a cosmic-size palette of atmospheric lap-steel guitar and ethereal vocals.  The album’s elegiac quality is perfect for those lonely nights on the patio under the stars (without the noisy, upper-middle class white trash neighbors around).  There are echoes of Spiritualized’s spacey soundscape, but Hickey is mindful of the underlying folk-country essence.  Her voice reminds me of Belly’s Tanya Donelly, and her lap-steel guitar style reminds me of, well, no one – it’s utterly unique for that instrument (but perhaps similar to The Edge on electric guitar).

Wire Waltz, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

Modern Love, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).  Yes, it is indeed a David Bowie cover, but completely re-invented.

Caroline, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

As a bonus: Feed The Tree, Belly (from Star, 1993).  God, I can’t believe this was 16 years ago.
Quote from Village Voice]

A few months ago I decided to clear out my increasingly unwieldy music wish list on Amazon.  So the plan was to either buy it, viagra sales stuff delete it or move it to a new Maybe List, viagra sale sale which resulted in cutting down the primary list from 135 to 29 albums.

Examples of music I deleted from the list include Hank Williams’ Unreleased Recordings box set (I bought the abridged version on vinyl instead), Tom Waits’ Bone Machine (I love the man, but I just can’t do it), Magnetic Fields’ The Wayward Bus (ok, really, I don’t need to have everything they ever released).

Music I moved to the Maybe List include Harper Simon’ self-titled album (yes, that’s Paul’s son; I like it, but need to listen a few more times), Lambchop’ Oh (Ohio) (I don’t know why I don’t just pull the trigger on this one), The Grand Archives’ self-titled album (founded by former member of Band of Horses).

Music I bought include Josh Rouse’s Nashville (it’s a shame his music isn’t more prominent), Fountains of Wayne’s Utopia Parkway (why not!), Elliott Smith’s Figure 8 (I have no excuse for letting this linger for so long), The Last Town Chorus’ Wire Waltz (see below).

I admit I’m a sucker for somber, melancholic music, and Megan Hickey of The Last Town Chorus serves it up on a cosmic-size palette of atmospheric lap-steel guitar and ethereal vocals.  The album’s elegiac quality is perfect for those lonely nights on the patio under the stars (without the noisy, upper-middle class white trash neighbors around).  There are echoes of Spiritualized’s spacey soundscape, but Hickey is mindful of the underlying folk-country essence.  Her voice reminds me of Belly’s Tanya Donelly, and her lap-steel guitar style reminds me of, well, no one – it’s utterly unique for that instrument.

Wire Waltz, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

Modern Love, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).  Yes, it is indeed a David Bowie cover, but completely re-invented.

Caroline, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

As a bonus: Feed The Tree, Belly (from Star, 1993).  God, I can’t believe this was 16 years ago.
[Quote from Village Voice]

A few months ago I decided to clear out my increasingly unwieldy music wish list on Amazon.  So the plan was to either buy it, best viagra buy delete it or move it to a new Maybe List, cialis sales recipe which resulted in cutting down the primary list from 135 to 29 albums.

Examples of music I deleted from the list include Hank Williams’ Unreleased Recordings box set (I bought the abridged version on vinyl instead), treat Tom Waits’ Bone Machine (I love the man, but I just can’t do it), Magnetic Fields’ The Wayward Bus (ok, really, I don’t need to have everything they ever released).

Music I moved to the Maybe List include Harper Simon’ self-titled album (yes, that’s Paul’s son; I like it, but need to listen a few more times), Lambchop’s Oh (Ohio) (I don’t know why I don’t just pull the trigger on this one), The Grand Archives’ self-titled album (founded by former member of Band of Horses).

Music I bought include Josh Rouse’s Nashville (it’s a shame his music isn’t more prominent), Fountains of Wayne’s Utopia Parkway (why not!), Elliott Smith’s Figure 8 (I have no excuse for letting this linger for so long), The Last Town Chorus’ Wire Waltz (see below).

I admit I’m a sucker for somber, melancholic music, and Megan Hickey of The Last Town Chorus serves it up on a cosmic-size palette of atmospheric lap-steel guitar and ethereal vocals.  The album’s elegiac quality is perfect for those lonely nights on the patio under the stars (without the noisy, upper-middle class white trash neighbors around).  There are echoes of Spiritualized’s spacey soundscape, but Hickey is mindful of the underlying folk-country essence.  Her voice reminds me of Belly’s Tanya Donelly, and her lap-steel guitar style reminds me of, well, no one – it’s utterly unique for that instrument (but perhaps similar to The Edge on electric guitar).

Wire Waltz, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

Modern Love, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).  Yes, it is indeed a David Bowie cover, but completely re-invented.

Caroline, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

As a bonus: Feed The Tree, Belly (from Star, 1993).  God, I can’t believe this was 16 years ago.
[Quote from Village Voice]

A few months ago I decided to clear out my increasingly unwieldy music wish list on Amazon.  So the plan was to either buy it, viagra sale diagnosis delete it or move it to a new Maybe List, cialis which resulted in cutting down the primary list from 135 to 29 albums.

Examples of music I deleted from the list include Hank Williams’ Unreleased Recordings box set (I bought the abridged version on vinyl instead), Tom Waits’ Bone Machine (I love the man, but I just can’t do it), Magnetic Fields’ The Wayward Bus (ok, really, I don’t need to have everything they ever released).

Music I moved to the Maybe List include Harper Simon’ self-titled album (yes, that’s Paul’s son; I like it, but need to listen a few more times), Lambchop’s Oh (Ohio) (I don’t know why I don’t just pull the trigger on this one), The Grand Archives’ self-titled album (founded by former member of Band of Horses).

Music I bought include Josh Rouse’s Nashville (it’s a shame his music isn’t more prominent), Fountains of Wayne’s Utopia Parkway (why not!), Elliott Smith’s Figure 8 (I have no excuse for letting this linger for so long), The Last Town Chorus’ Wire Waltz (see below).

I admit I’m a sucker for somber, melancholic music, and Megan Hickey of The Last Town Chorus serves it up on a cosmic-size palette of atmospheric lap-steel guitar and ethereal vocals.  The album’s elegiac quality is perfect for those lonely nights on the patio under the stars (without the noisy, upper-middle class white trash neighbors around).  There are echoes of Spiritualized’s spacey soundscape, but Hickey is mindful of the underlying folk-country essence.  Her voice reminds me of Belly’s Tanya Donelly, and her lap-steel guitar style reminds me of, well, no one – it’s utterly unique for that instrument (but perhaps similar to The Edge on electric guitar).

Wire Waltz, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

Modern Love, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).  Yes, it is indeed a David Bowie cover, but completely re-invented.

Caroline, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

As a bonus: Feed The Tree, Belly (from Star, 1993).  God, I can’t believe this was 16 years ago.
[Quote from Village Voice]

A few months ago I decided to clear out my increasingly unwieldy music wish list on Amazon.  So the plan was to either buy it, viagra generic generic delete it or move it to a new Maybe List, buy viagra which resulted in cutting down the primary list from 135 to 29 albums.

Examples of music I deleted from the list include Hank Williams’ Unreleased Recordings box set (I bought the abridged version on vinyl instead), Tom Waits’ Bone Machine (I love the man, but I just can’t do it), Magnetic Fields’ The Wayward Bus (ok, really, I don’t need to have everything they ever released).

Music I moved to the Maybe List include Harper Simon’ self-titled album (yes, that’s Paul’s son; I like it, but need to listen a few more times), Lambchop’s Oh (Ohio) (I don’t know why I don’t just pull the trigger on this one), The Grand Archives’ self-titled album (founded by former member of Band of Horses).

Music I bought include Josh Rouse’s Nashville (it’s a shame his music isn’t more prominent), Fountains of Wayne’s Utopia Parkway (why not!), Elliott Smith’s Figure 8 (I have no excuse for letting this linger for so long), The Last Town Chorus’ Wire Waltz (see below).

I admit I’m a sucker for somber, melancholic music, and Megan Hickey of The Last Town Chorus serves it up on a cosmic-size palette of atmospheric lap-steel guitar and ethereal vocals.  The album’s elegiac quality is perfect for those lonely nights on the patio under the stars (without the noisy, upper-middle class white trash neighbors around).  There are echoes of Spiritualized’s spacey soundscape, but Hickey is mindful of the underlying folk-country essence.  Her voice reminds me of Belly’s Tanya Donelly, and her lap-steel guitar style reminds me of, well, no one – it’s utterly unique for that instrument (but perhaps similar to The Edge on electric guitar).

Wire Waltz, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

Modern Love, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).  Yes, it is indeed a David Bowie cover, but completely re-invented.

Caroline, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

As a bonus: Feed The Tree, Belly (from Star, 1993).  God, I can’t believe this was 16 years ago.
[Quote from Village Voice]

A few months ago I decided to clear out my increasingly unwieldy music wish list on Amazon.  So the plan was to either buy it, discount viagra advice delete it or move it to a new Maybe List, cialis buy sale which resulted in cutting down the primary list from 135 to 29 albums.

Examples of music I deleted from the list include Hank Williams’ Unreleased Recordings box set (I bought the abridged version on vinyl instead), Tom Waits’ Bone Machine (I love the man, but I just can’t do it), Magnetic Fields’ The Wayward Bus (ok, really, I don’t need to have everything they ever released).

Music I moved to the Maybe List include Harper Simon’ self-titled album (yes, that’s Paul’s son; I like it, but need to listen a few more times), Lambchop’s Oh (Ohio) (I don’t know why I don’t just pull the trigger on this one), The Grand Archives’ self-titled album (founded by former member of Band of Horses).

Music I bought include Josh Rouse’s Nashville (it’s a shame his music isn’t more prominent), Fountains of Wayne’s Utopia Parkway (why not!), Elliott Smith’s Figure 8 (I have no excuse for letting this linger for so long), The Last Town Chorus’ Wire Waltz (see below).

I admit I’m a sucker for somber, melancholic music, and Megan Hickey of The Last Town Chorus serves it up on a cosmic-size palette of atmospheric lap-steel guitar and ethereal vocals.  The album’s elegiac quality is perfect for those lonely nights on the patio under the stars (without the noisy, upper-middle class white trash neighbors around).  There are echoes of Spiritualized’s spacey soundscape, but Hickey is mindful of the underlying folk-country essence.  Her voice reminds me of Belly’s Tanya Donelly, and her lap-steel guitar style reminds me of, well, no one – it’s utterly unique for that instrument (but perhaps similar to The Edge on electric guitar).

Wire Waltz, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

Modern Love, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).  Yes, it is indeed a David Bowie cover, but completely re-invented.

Caroline, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

As a bonus: Feed The Tree, Belly (from Star, 1993).  God, I can’t believe this was 16 years ago.
Quote from Village Voice]

A few months ago I decided to clear out my increasingly unwieldy music wish list on Amazon.  So the plan was to either buy it, viagra sales stuff delete it or move it to a new Maybe List, viagra sale sale which resulted in cutting down the primary list from 135 to 29 albums.

Examples of music I deleted from the list include Hank Williams’ Unreleased Recordings box set (I bought the abridged version on vinyl instead), Tom Waits’ Bone Machine (I love the man, but I just can’t do it), Magnetic Fields’ The Wayward Bus (ok, really, I don’t need to have everything they ever released).

Music I moved to the Maybe List include Harper Simon’ self-titled album (yes, that’s Paul’s son; I like it, but need to listen a few more times), Lambchop’ Oh (Ohio) (I don’t know why I don’t just pull the trigger on this one), The Grand Archives’ self-titled album (founded by former member of Band of Horses).

Music I bought include Josh Rouse’s Nashville (it’s a shame his music isn’t more prominent), Fountains of Wayne’s Utopia Parkway (why not!), Elliott Smith’s Figure 8 (I have no excuse for letting this linger for so long), The Last Town Chorus’ Wire Waltz (see below).

I admit I’m a sucker for somber, melancholic music, and Megan Hickey of The Last Town Chorus serves it up on a cosmic-size palette of atmospheric lap-steel guitar and ethereal vocals.  The album’s elegiac quality is perfect for those lonely nights on the patio under the stars (without the noisy, upper-middle class white trash neighbors around).  There are echoes of Spiritualized’s spacey soundscape, but Hickey is mindful of the underlying folk-country essence.  Her voice reminds me of Belly’s Tanya Donelly, and her lap-steel guitar style reminds me of, well, no one – it’s utterly unique for that instrument.

Wire Waltz, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

Modern Love, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).  Yes, it is indeed a David Bowie cover, but completely re-invented.

Caroline, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

As a bonus: Feed The Tree, Belly (from Star, 1993).  God, I can’t believe this was 16 years ago.
[Quote from Village Voice]

A few months ago I decided to clear out my increasingly unwieldy music wish list on Amazon.  So the plan was to either buy it, best viagra buy delete it or move it to a new Maybe List, cialis sales recipe which resulted in cutting down the primary list from 135 to 29 albums.

Examples of music I deleted from the list include Hank Williams’ Unreleased Recordings box set (I bought the abridged version on vinyl instead), treat Tom Waits’ Bone Machine (I love the man, but I just can’t do it), Magnetic Fields’ The Wayward Bus (ok, really, I don’t need to have everything they ever released).

Music I moved to the Maybe List include Harper Simon’ self-titled album (yes, that’s Paul’s son; I like it, but need to listen a few more times), Lambchop’s Oh (Ohio) (I don’t know why I don’t just pull the trigger on this one), The Grand Archives’ self-titled album (founded by former member of Band of Horses).

Music I bought include Josh Rouse’s Nashville (it’s a shame his music isn’t more prominent), Fountains of Wayne’s Utopia Parkway (why not!), Elliott Smith’s Figure 8 (I have no excuse for letting this linger for so long), The Last Town Chorus’ Wire Waltz (see below).

I admit I’m a sucker for somber, melancholic music, and Megan Hickey of The Last Town Chorus serves it up on a cosmic-size palette of atmospheric lap-steel guitar and ethereal vocals.  The album’s elegiac quality is perfect for those lonely nights on the patio under the stars (without the noisy, upper-middle class white trash neighbors around).  There are echoes of Spiritualized’s spacey soundscape, but Hickey is mindful of the underlying folk-country essence.  Her voice reminds me of Belly’s Tanya Donelly, and her lap-steel guitar style reminds me of, well, no one – it’s utterly unique for that instrument (but perhaps similar to The Edge on electric guitar).

Wire Waltz, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

Modern Love, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).  Yes, it is indeed a David Bowie cover, but completely re-invented.

Caroline, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

As a bonus: Feed The Tree, Belly (from Star, 1993).  God, I can’t believe this was 16 years ago.
[Quote from Village Voice]

A few months ago I decided to clear out my increasingly unwieldy music wish list on Amazon.  So the plan was to either buy it, viagra sale diagnosis delete it or move it to a new Maybe List, cialis which resulted in cutting down the primary list from 135 to 29 albums.

Examples of music I deleted from the list include Hank Williams’ Unreleased Recordings box set (I bought the abridged version on vinyl instead), Tom Waits’ Bone Machine (I love the man, but I just can’t do it), Magnetic Fields’ The Wayward Bus (ok, really, I don’t need to have everything they ever released).

Music I moved to the Maybe List include Harper Simon’ self-titled album (yes, that’s Paul’s son; I like it, but need to listen a few more times), Lambchop’s Oh (Ohio) (I don’t know why I don’t just pull the trigger on this one), The Grand Archives’ self-titled album (founded by former member of Band of Horses).

Music I bought include Josh Rouse’s Nashville (it’s a shame his music isn’t more prominent), Fountains of Wayne’s Utopia Parkway (why not!), Elliott Smith’s Figure 8 (I have no excuse for letting this linger for so long), The Last Town Chorus’ Wire Waltz (see below).

I admit I’m a sucker for somber, melancholic music, and Megan Hickey of The Last Town Chorus serves it up on a cosmic-size palette of atmospheric lap-steel guitar and ethereal vocals.  The album’s elegiac quality is perfect for those lonely nights on the patio under the stars (without the noisy, upper-middle class white trash neighbors around).  There are echoes of Spiritualized’s spacey soundscape, but Hickey is mindful of the underlying folk-country essence.  Her voice reminds me of Belly’s Tanya Donelly, and her lap-steel guitar style reminds me of, well, no one – it’s utterly unique for that instrument (but perhaps similar to The Edge on electric guitar).

Wire Waltz, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

Modern Love, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).  Yes, it is indeed a David Bowie cover, but completely re-invented.

Caroline, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

As a bonus: Feed The Tree, Belly (from Star, 1993).  God, I can’t believe this was 16 years ago.
[Quote from Village Voice]

A few months ago I decided to clear out my increasingly unwieldy music wish list on Amazon.  So the plan was to either buy it, viagra generic generic delete it or move it to a new Maybe List, buy viagra which resulted in cutting down the primary list from 135 to 29 albums.

Examples of music I deleted from the list include Hank Williams’ Unreleased Recordings box set (I bought the abridged version on vinyl instead), Tom Waits’ Bone Machine (I love the man, but I just can’t do it), Magnetic Fields’ The Wayward Bus (ok, really, I don’t need to have everything they ever released).

Music I moved to the Maybe List include Harper Simon’ self-titled album (yes, that’s Paul’s son; I like it, but need to listen a few more times), Lambchop’s Oh (Ohio) (I don’t know why I don’t just pull the trigger on this one), The Grand Archives’ self-titled album (founded by former member of Band of Horses).

Music I bought include Josh Rouse’s Nashville (it’s a shame his music isn’t more prominent), Fountains of Wayne’s Utopia Parkway (why not!), Elliott Smith’s Figure 8 (I have no excuse for letting this linger for so long), The Last Town Chorus’ Wire Waltz (see below).

I admit I’m a sucker for somber, melancholic music, and Megan Hickey of The Last Town Chorus serves it up on a cosmic-size palette of atmospheric lap-steel guitar and ethereal vocals.  The album’s elegiac quality is perfect for those lonely nights on the patio under the stars (without the noisy, upper-middle class white trash neighbors around).  There are echoes of Spiritualized’s spacey soundscape, but Hickey is mindful of the underlying folk-country essence.  Her voice reminds me of Belly’s Tanya Donelly, and her lap-steel guitar style reminds me of, well, no one – it’s utterly unique for that instrument (but perhaps similar to The Edge on electric guitar).

Wire Waltz, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

Modern Love, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).  Yes, it is indeed a David Bowie cover, but completely re-invented.

Caroline, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

As a bonus: Feed The Tree, Belly (from Star, 1993).  God, I can’t believe this was 16 years ago.
[Quote from Village Voice]

A few months ago I decided to clear out my increasingly unwieldy music wish list on Amazon.  So the plan was to either buy it, discount viagra advice delete it or move it to a new Maybe List, cialis buy sale which resulted in cutting down the primary list from 135 to 29 albums.

Examples of music I deleted from the list include Hank Williams’ Unreleased Recordings box set (I bought the abridged version on vinyl instead), Tom Waits’ Bone Machine (I love the man, but I just can’t do it), Magnetic Fields’ The Wayward Bus (ok, really, I don’t need to have everything they ever released).

Music I moved to the Maybe List include Harper Simon’ self-titled album (yes, that’s Paul’s son; I like it, but need to listen a few more times), Lambchop’s Oh (Ohio) (I don’t know why I don’t just pull the trigger on this one), The Grand Archives’ self-titled album (founded by former member of Band of Horses).

Music I bought include Josh Rouse’s Nashville (it’s a shame his music isn’t more prominent), Fountains of Wayne’s Utopia Parkway (why not!), Elliott Smith’s Figure 8 (I have no excuse for letting this linger for so long), The Last Town Chorus’ Wire Waltz (see below).

I admit I’m a sucker for somber, melancholic music, and Megan Hickey of The Last Town Chorus serves it up on a cosmic-size palette of atmospheric lap-steel guitar and ethereal vocals.  The album’s elegiac quality is perfect for those lonely nights on the patio under the stars (without the noisy, upper-middle class white trash neighbors around).  There are echoes of Spiritualized’s spacey soundscape, but Hickey is mindful of the underlying folk-country essence.  Her voice reminds me of Belly’s Tanya Donelly, and her lap-steel guitar style reminds me of, well, no one – it’s utterly unique for that instrument (but perhaps similar to The Edge on electric guitar).

Wire Waltz, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

Modern Love, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).  Yes, it is indeed a David Bowie cover, but completely re-invented.

Caroline, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

As a bonus: Feed The Tree, Belly (from Star, 1993).  God, I can’t believe this was 16 years ago.
[Quote from Village Voice]

A few months ago I decided to clear out my increasingly unwieldy music wish list on Amazon.  So the plan was to either buy it, viagra sales diagnosis delete it or move it to a new Maybe List, stuff which resulted in cutting down the primary list from 135 to 29 albums.

Examples of music I deleted from the list include Hank Williams’ Unreleased Recordings box set (I bought the abridged version on vinyl instead), cheap Tom Waits’ Bone Machine (I love the man, but I just can’t do it), Magnetic Fields’ The Wayward Bus (ok, really, I don’t need to have everything they ever released).

Music I moved to the Maybe List include Harper Simon’s self-titled album (yes, that’s Paul’s son; I like it, but need to listen a few more times), Lambchop’s Oh (Ohio) (I don’t know why I don’t just pull the trigger on this one), The Grand Archives’ self-titled album (founded by former member of Band of Horses).

Music I bought include Josh Rouse’s Nashville (it’s a shame his music isn’t more prominent), Fountains of Wayne’s Utopia Parkway (why not!), Elliott Smith’s Figure 8 (I have no excuse for letting this linger for so long), The Last Town Chorus’ Wire Waltz (see below).

I admit I’m a sucker for somber, melancholic music, and Megan Hickey of The Last Town Chorus serves it up on a cosmic-size palette of atmospheric lap-steel guitar and ethereal vocals.  The album’s elegiac quality is perfect for those lonely nights on the patio under the stars (without the noisy, upper-middle class white trash neighbors around).  There are echoes of Spiritualized’s spacey soundscape, but Hickey is mindful of the underlying folk-country essence.  Her voice reminds me of Belly’s Tanya Donelly, and her lap-steel guitar style reminds me of, well, no one – it’s utterly unique for that instrument (but perhaps similar to The Edge on electric guitar).

Wire Waltz, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

Modern Love, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).  Yes, it is indeed a David Bowie cover, but completely re-invented.

Caroline, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

As a bonus: Feed The Tree, Belly (from Star, 1993).  God, I can’t believe this was 16 years ago.
Quote from Village Voice]

A few months ago I decided to clear out my increasingly unwieldy music wish list on Amazon.  So the plan was to either buy it, viagra sales stuff delete it or move it to a new Maybe List, viagra sale sale which resulted in cutting down the primary list from 135 to 29 albums.

Examples of music I deleted from the list include Hank Williams’ Unreleased Recordings box set (I bought the abridged version on vinyl instead), Tom Waits’ Bone Machine (I love the man, but I just can’t do it), Magnetic Fields’ The Wayward Bus (ok, really, I don’t need to have everything they ever released).

Music I moved to the Maybe List include Harper Simon’ self-titled album (yes, that’s Paul’s son; I like it, but need to listen a few more times), Lambchop’ Oh (Ohio) (I don’t know why I don’t just pull the trigger on this one), The Grand Archives’ self-titled album (founded by former member of Band of Horses).

Music I bought include Josh Rouse’s Nashville (it’s a shame his music isn’t more prominent), Fountains of Wayne’s Utopia Parkway (why not!), Elliott Smith’s Figure 8 (I have no excuse for letting this linger for so long), The Last Town Chorus’ Wire Waltz (see below).

I admit I’m a sucker for somber, melancholic music, and Megan Hickey of The Last Town Chorus serves it up on a cosmic-size palette of atmospheric lap-steel guitar and ethereal vocals.  The album’s elegiac quality is perfect for those lonely nights on the patio under the stars (without the noisy, upper-middle class white trash neighbors around).  There are echoes of Spiritualized’s spacey soundscape, but Hickey is mindful of the underlying folk-country essence.  Her voice reminds me of Belly’s Tanya Donelly, and her lap-steel guitar style reminds me of, well, no one – it’s utterly unique for that instrument.

Wire Waltz, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

Modern Love, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).  Yes, it is indeed a David Bowie cover, but completely re-invented.

Caroline, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

As a bonus: Feed The Tree, Belly (from Star, 1993).  God, I can’t believe this was 16 years ago.
[Quote from Village Voice]

A few months ago I decided to clear out my increasingly unwieldy music wish list on Amazon.  So the plan was to either buy it, best viagra buy delete it or move it to a new Maybe List, cialis sales recipe which resulted in cutting down the primary list from 135 to 29 albums.

Examples of music I deleted from the list include Hank Williams’ Unreleased Recordings box set (I bought the abridged version on vinyl instead), treat Tom Waits’ Bone Machine (I love the man, but I just can’t do it), Magnetic Fields’ The Wayward Bus (ok, really, I don’t need to have everything they ever released).

Music I moved to the Maybe List include Harper Simon’ self-titled album (yes, that’s Paul’s son; I like it, but need to listen a few more times), Lambchop’s Oh (Ohio) (I don’t know why I don’t just pull the trigger on this one), The Grand Archives’ self-titled album (founded by former member of Band of Horses).

Music I bought include Josh Rouse’s Nashville (it’s a shame his music isn’t more prominent), Fountains of Wayne’s Utopia Parkway (why not!), Elliott Smith’s Figure 8 (I have no excuse for letting this linger for so long), The Last Town Chorus’ Wire Waltz (see below).

I admit I’m a sucker for somber, melancholic music, and Megan Hickey of The Last Town Chorus serves it up on a cosmic-size palette of atmospheric lap-steel guitar and ethereal vocals.  The album’s elegiac quality is perfect for those lonely nights on the patio under the stars (without the noisy, upper-middle class white trash neighbors around).  There are echoes of Spiritualized’s spacey soundscape, but Hickey is mindful of the underlying folk-country essence.  Her voice reminds me of Belly’s Tanya Donelly, and her lap-steel guitar style reminds me of, well, no one – it’s utterly unique for that instrument (but perhaps similar to The Edge on electric guitar).

Wire Waltz, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

Modern Love, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).  Yes, it is indeed a David Bowie cover, but completely re-invented.

Caroline, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

As a bonus: Feed The Tree, Belly (from Star, 1993).  God, I can’t believe this was 16 years ago.
[Quote from Village Voice]

A few months ago I decided to clear out my increasingly unwieldy music wish list on Amazon.  So the plan was to either buy it, viagra sale diagnosis delete it or move it to a new Maybe List, cialis which resulted in cutting down the primary list from 135 to 29 albums.

Examples of music I deleted from the list include Hank Williams’ Unreleased Recordings box set (I bought the abridged version on vinyl instead), Tom Waits’ Bone Machine (I love the man, but I just can’t do it), Magnetic Fields’ The Wayward Bus (ok, really, I don’t need to have everything they ever released).

Music I moved to the Maybe List include Harper Simon’ self-titled album (yes, that’s Paul’s son; I like it, but need to listen a few more times), Lambchop’s Oh (Ohio) (I don’t know why I don’t just pull the trigger on this one), The Grand Archives’ self-titled album (founded by former member of Band of Horses).

Music I bought include Josh Rouse’s Nashville (it’s a shame his music isn’t more prominent), Fountains of Wayne’s Utopia Parkway (why not!), Elliott Smith’s Figure 8 (I have no excuse for letting this linger for so long), The Last Town Chorus’ Wire Waltz (see below).

I admit I’m a sucker for somber, melancholic music, and Megan Hickey of The Last Town Chorus serves it up on a cosmic-size palette of atmospheric lap-steel guitar and ethereal vocals.  The album’s elegiac quality is perfect for those lonely nights on the patio under the stars (without the noisy, upper-middle class white trash neighbors around).  There are echoes of Spiritualized’s spacey soundscape, but Hickey is mindful of the underlying folk-country essence.  Her voice reminds me of Belly’s Tanya Donelly, and her lap-steel guitar style reminds me of, well, no one – it’s utterly unique for that instrument (but perhaps similar to The Edge on electric guitar).

Wire Waltz, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

Modern Love, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).  Yes, it is indeed a David Bowie cover, but completely re-invented.

Caroline, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

As a bonus: Feed The Tree, Belly (from Star, 1993).  God, I can’t believe this was 16 years ago.
[Quote from Village Voice]

A few months ago I decided to clear out my increasingly unwieldy music wish list on Amazon.  So the plan was to either buy it, viagra generic generic delete it or move it to a new Maybe List, buy viagra which resulted in cutting down the primary list from 135 to 29 albums.

Examples of music I deleted from the list include Hank Williams’ Unreleased Recordings box set (I bought the abridged version on vinyl instead), Tom Waits’ Bone Machine (I love the man, but I just can’t do it), Magnetic Fields’ The Wayward Bus (ok, really, I don’t need to have everything they ever released).

Music I moved to the Maybe List include Harper Simon’ self-titled album (yes, that’s Paul’s son; I like it, but need to listen a few more times), Lambchop’s Oh (Ohio) (I don’t know why I don’t just pull the trigger on this one), The Grand Archives’ self-titled album (founded by former member of Band of Horses).

Music I bought include Josh Rouse’s Nashville (it’s a shame his music isn’t more prominent), Fountains of Wayne’s Utopia Parkway (why not!), Elliott Smith’s Figure 8 (I have no excuse for letting this linger for so long), The Last Town Chorus’ Wire Waltz (see below).

I admit I’m a sucker for somber, melancholic music, and Megan Hickey of The Last Town Chorus serves it up on a cosmic-size palette of atmospheric lap-steel guitar and ethereal vocals.  The album’s elegiac quality is perfect for those lonely nights on the patio under the stars (without the noisy, upper-middle class white trash neighbors around).  There are echoes of Spiritualized’s spacey soundscape, but Hickey is mindful of the underlying folk-country essence.  Her voice reminds me of Belly’s Tanya Donelly, and her lap-steel guitar style reminds me of, well, no one – it’s utterly unique for that instrument (but perhaps similar to The Edge on electric guitar).

Wire Waltz, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

Modern Love, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).  Yes, it is indeed a David Bowie cover, but completely re-invented.

Caroline, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

As a bonus: Feed The Tree, Belly (from Star, 1993).  God, I can’t believe this was 16 years ago.
[Quote from Village Voice]

A few months ago I decided to clear out my increasingly unwieldy music wish list on Amazon.  So the plan was to either buy it, discount viagra advice delete it or move it to a new Maybe List, cialis buy sale which resulted in cutting down the primary list from 135 to 29 albums.

Examples of music I deleted from the list include Hank Williams’ Unreleased Recordings box set (I bought the abridged version on vinyl instead), Tom Waits’ Bone Machine (I love the man, but I just can’t do it), Magnetic Fields’ The Wayward Bus (ok, really, I don’t need to have everything they ever released).

Music I moved to the Maybe List include Harper Simon’ self-titled album (yes, that’s Paul’s son; I like it, but need to listen a few more times), Lambchop’s Oh (Ohio) (I don’t know why I don’t just pull the trigger on this one), The Grand Archives’ self-titled album (founded by former member of Band of Horses).

Music I bought include Josh Rouse’s Nashville (it’s a shame his music isn’t more prominent), Fountains of Wayne’s Utopia Parkway (why not!), Elliott Smith’s Figure 8 (I have no excuse for letting this linger for so long), The Last Town Chorus’ Wire Waltz (see below).

I admit I’m a sucker for somber, melancholic music, and Megan Hickey of The Last Town Chorus serves it up on a cosmic-size palette of atmospheric lap-steel guitar and ethereal vocals.  The album’s elegiac quality is perfect for those lonely nights on the patio under the stars (without the noisy, upper-middle class white trash neighbors around).  There are echoes of Spiritualized’s spacey soundscape, but Hickey is mindful of the underlying folk-country essence.  Her voice reminds me of Belly’s Tanya Donelly, and her lap-steel guitar style reminds me of, well, no one – it’s utterly unique for that instrument (but perhaps similar to The Edge on electric guitar).

Wire Waltz, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

Modern Love, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).  Yes, it is indeed a David Bowie cover, but completely re-invented.

Caroline, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

As a bonus: Feed The Tree, Belly (from Star, 1993).  God, I can’t believe this was 16 years ago.
[Quote from Village Voice]

A few months ago I decided to clear out my increasingly unwieldy music wish list on Amazon.  So the plan was to either buy it, viagra sales diagnosis delete it or move it to a new Maybe List, stuff which resulted in cutting down the primary list from 135 to 29 albums.

Examples of music I deleted from the list include Hank Williams’ Unreleased Recordings box set (I bought the abridged version on vinyl instead), cheap Tom Waits’ Bone Machine (I love the man, but I just can’t do it), Magnetic Fields’ The Wayward Bus (ok, really, I don’t need to have everything they ever released).

Music I moved to the Maybe List include Harper Simon’s self-titled album (yes, that’s Paul’s son; I like it, but need to listen a few more times), Lambchop’s Oh (Ohio) (I don’t know why I don’t just pull the trigger on this one), The Grand Archives’ self-titled album (founded by former member of Band of Horses).

Music I bought include Josh Rouse’s Nashville (it’s a shame his music isn’t more prominent), Fountains of Wayne’s Utopia Parkway (why not!), Elliott Smith’s Figure 8 (I have no excuse for letting this linger for so long), The Last Town Chorus’ Wire Waltz (see below).

I admit I’m a sucker for somber, melancholic music, and Megan Hickey of The Last Town Chorus serves it up on a cosmic-size palette of atmospheric lap-steel guitar and ethereal vocals.  The album’s elegiac quality is perfect for those lonely nights on the patio under the stars (without the noisy, upper-middle class white trash neighbors around).  There are echoes of Spiritualized’s spacey soundscape, but Hickey is mindful of the underlying folk-country essence.  Her voice reminds me of Belly’s Tanya Donelly, and her lap-steel guitar style reminds me of, well, no one – it’s utterly unique for that instrument (but perhaps similar to The Edge on electric guitar).

Wire Waltz, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

Modern Love, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).  Yes, it is indeed a David Bowie cover, but completely re-invented.

Caroline, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

As a bonus: Feed The Tree, Belly (from Star, 1993).  God, I can’t believe this was 16 years ago.
[Quote from Village Voice]

A few months ago I decided to clear out my increasingly unwieldy music wish list on Amazon.  So the plan was to either buy it, cialis generic nurse delete it or move it to a new Maybe List, discount cialis check which resulted in cutting down the primary list from 135 to 29 albums.

Examples of music I deleted from the list include Hank Williams’ Unreleased Recordings box set (I bought the abridged version on vinyl instead), buy viagra Tom Waits’ Bone Machine (I love the man, but I just can’t do it), Magnetic Fields’ The Wayward Bus (ok, really, I don’t need to have everything they ever released).

Music I moved to the Maybe List include Harper Simon’s self-titled album (yes, that’s Paul’s son; I like it, but need to listen a few more times), Lambchop’s Oh (Ohio) (I don’t know why I don’t just pull the trigger on this one), The Grand Archives’ self-titled album (founded by former member of Band of Horses).

Music I bought include Josh Rouse’s Nashville (it’s a shame his music isn’t more prominent), Fountains of Wayne’s Utopia Parkway (why not!), Elliott Smith’s Figure 8 (I have no excuse for letting this linger for so long), The Last Town Chorus’ Wire Waltz (see below).

I admit I’m a sucker for somber, melancholic music, and Megan Hickey of The Last Town Chorus serves it up on a cosmic-size palette of atmospheric lap-steel guitar and ethereal vocals.  The album’s elegiac quality is perfect for those lonely nights on the patio under the stars (without the noisy, upper-middle class white trash neighbors around).  There are echoes of Spiritualized’s spacey soundscape, but Hickey is mindful of the underlying folk-country essence.  Her voice reminds me of Belly’s Tanya Donelly, and her lap-steel guitar style reminds me of, well, no one – it’s utterly unique for that instrument (but perhaps similar to The Edge on electric guitar).

Wire Waltz, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

Modern Love, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).  Yes, it is indeed a David Bowie cover, but completely re-invented.

Caroline, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

As a bonus: Feed The Tree, Belly (from Star, 1993).  God, I can’t believe this was 16 years ago.
Quote from Village Voice]

A few months ago I decided to clear out my increasingly unwieldy music wish list on Amazon.  So the plan was to either buy it, viagra sales stuff delete it or move it to a new Maybe List, viagra sale sale which resulted in cutting down the primary list from 135 to 29 albums.

Examples of music I deleted from the list include Hank Williams’ Unreleased Recordings box set (I bought the abridged version on vinyl instead), Tom Waits’ Bone Machine (I love the man, but I just can’t do it), Magnetic Fields’ The Wayward Bus (ok, really, I don’t need to have everything they ever released).

Music I moved to the Maybe List include Harper Simon’ self-titled album (yes, that’s Paul’s son; I like it, but need to listen a few more times), Lambchop’ Oh (Ohio) (I don’t know why I don’t just pull the trigger on this one), The Grand Archives’ self-titled album (founded by former member of Band of Horses).

Music I bought include Josh Rouse’s Nashville (it’s a shame his music isn’t more prominent), Fountains of Wayne’s Utopia Parkway (why not!), Elliott Smith’s Figure 8 (I have no excuse for letting this linger for so long), The Last Town Chorus’ Wire Waltz (see below).

I admit I’m a sucker for somber, melancholic music, and Megan Hickey of The Last Town Chorus serves it up on a cosmic-size palette of atmospheric lap-steel guitar and ethereal vocals.  The album’s elegiac quality is perfect for those lonely nights on the patio under the stars (without the noisy, upper-middle class white trash neighbors around).  There are echoes of Spiritualized’s spacey soundscape, but Hickey is mindful of the underlying folk-country essence.  Her voice reminds me of Belly’s Tanya Donelly, and her lap-steel guitar style reminds me of, well, no one – it’s utterly unique for that instrument.

Wire Waltz, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

Modern Love, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).  Yes, it is indeed a David Bowie cover, but completely re-invented.

Caroline, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

As a bonus: Feed The Tree, Belly (from Star, 1993).  God, I can’t believe this was 16 years ago.
[Quote from Village Voice]

A few months ago I decided to clear out my increasingly unwieldy music wish list on Amazon.  So the plan was to either buy it, best viagra buy delete it or move it to a new Maybe List, cialis sales recipe which resulted in cutting down the primary list from 135 to 29 albums.

Examples of music I deleted from the list include Hank Williams’ Unreleased Recordings box set (I bought the abridged version on vinyl instead), treat Tom Waits’ Bone Machine (I love the man, but I just can’t do it), Magnetic Fields’ The Wayward Bus (ok, really, I don’t need to have everything they ever released).

Music I moved to the Maybe List include Harper Simon’ self-titled album (yes, that’s Paul’s son; I like it, but need to listen a few more times), Lambchop’s Oh (Ohio) (I don’t know why I don’t just pull the trigger on this one), The Grand Archives’ self-titled album (founded by former member of Band of Horses).

Music I bought include Josh Rouse’s Nashville (it’s a shame his music isn’t more prominent), Fountains of Wayne’s Utopia Parkway (why not!), Elliott Smith’s Figure 8 (I have no excuse for letting this linger for so long), The Last Town Chorus’ Wire Waltz (see below).

I admit I’m a sucker for somber, melancholic music, and Megan Hickey of The Last Town Chorus serves it up on a cosmic-size palette of atmospheric lap-steel guitar and ethereal vocals.  The album’s elegiac quality is perfect for those lonely nights on the patio under the stars (without the noisy, upper-middle class white trash neighbors around).  There are echoes of Spiritualized’s spacey soundscape, but Hickey is mindful of the underlying folk-country essence.  Her voice reminds me of Belly’s Tanya Donelly, and her lap-steel guitar style reminds me of, well, no one – it’s utterly unique for that instrument (but perhaps similar to The Edge on electric guitar).

Wire Waltz, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

Modern Love, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).  Yes, it is indeed a David Bowie cover, but completely re-invented.

Caroline, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

As a bonus: Feed The Tree, Belly (from Star, 1993).  God, I can’t believe this was 16 years ago.
[Quote from Village Voice]

A few months ago I decided to clear out my increasingly unwieldy music wish list on Amazon.  So the plan was to either buy it, viagra sale diagnosis delete it or move it to a new Maybe List, cialis which resulted in cutting down the primary list from 135 to 29 albums.

Examples of music I deleted from the list include Hank Williams’ Unreleased Recordings box set (I bought the abridged version on vinyl instead), Tom Waits’ Bone Machine (I love the man, but I just can’t do it), Magnetic Fields’ The Wayward Bus (ok, really, I don’t need to have everything they ever released).

Music I moved to the Maybe List include Harper Simon’ self-titled album (yes, that’s Paul’s son; I like it, but need to listen a few more times), Lambchop’s Oh (Ohio) (I don’t know why I don’t just pull the trigger on this one), The Grand Archives’ self-titled album (founded by former member of Band of Horses).

Music I bought include Josh Rouse’s Nashville (it’s a shame his music isn’t more prominent), Fountains of Wayne’s Utopia Parkway (why not!), Elliott Smith’s Figure 8 (I have no excuse for letting this linger for so long), The Last Town Chorus’ Wire Waltz (see below).

I admit I’m a sucker for somber, melancholic music, and Megan Hickey of The Last Town Chorus serves it up on a cosmic-size palette of atmospheric lap-steel guitar and ethereal vocals.  The album’s elegiac quality is perfect for those lonely nights on the patio under the stars (without the noisy, upper-middle class white trash neighbors around).  There are echoes of Spiritualized’s spacey soundscape, but Hickey is mindful of the underlying folk-country essence.  Her voice reminds me of Belly’s Tanya Donelly, and her lap-steel guitar style reminds me of, well, no one – it’s utterly unique for that instrument (but perhaps similar to The Edge on electric guitar).

Wire Waltz, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

Modern Love, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).  Yes, it is indeed a David Bowie cover, but completely re-invented.

Caroline, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

As a bonus: Feed The Tree, Belly (from Star, 1993).  God, I can’t believe this was 16 years ago.
[Quote from Village Voice]

A few months ago I decided to clear out my increasingly unwieldy music wish list on Amazon.  So the plan was to either buy it, viagra generic generic delete it or move it to a new Maybe List, buy viagra which resulted in cutting down the primary list from 135 to 29 albums.

Examples of music I deleted from the list include Hank Williams’ Unreleased Recordings box set (I bought the abridged version on vinyl instead), Tom Waits’ Bone Machine (I love the man, but I just can’t do it), Magnetic Fields’ The Wayward Bus (ok, really, I don’t need to have everything they ever released).

Music I moved to the Maybe List include Harper Simon’ self-titled album (yes, that’s Paul’s son; I like it, but need to listen a few more times), Lambchop’s Oh (Ohio) (I don’t know why I don’t just pull the trigger on this one), The Grand Archives’ self-titled album (founded by former member of Band of Horses).

Music I bought include Josh Rouse’s Nashville (it’s a shame his music isn’t more prominent), Fountains of Wayne’s Utopia Parkway (why not!), Elliott Smith’s Figure 8 (I have no excuse for letting this linger for so long), The Last Town Chorus’ Wire Waltz (see below).

I admit I’m a sucker for somber, melancholic music, and Megan Hickey of The Last Town Chorus serves it up on a cosmic-size palette of atmospheric lap-steel guitar and ethereal vocals.  The album’s elegiac quality is perfect for those lonely nights on the patio under the stars (without the noisy, upper-middle class white trash neighbors around).  There are echoes of Spiritualized’s spacey soundscape, but Hickey is mindful of the underlying folk-country essence.  Her voice reminds me of Belly’s Tanya Donelly, and her lap-steel guitar style reminds me of, well, no one – it’s utterly unique for that instrument (but perhaps similar to The Edge on electric guitar).

Wire Waltz, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

Modern Love, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).  Yes, it is indeed a David Bowie cover, but completely re-invented.

Caroline, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

As a bonus: Feed The Tree, Belly (from Star, 1993).  God, I can’t believe this was 16 years ago.
[Quote from Village Voice]

A few months ago I decided to clear out my increasingly unwieldy music wish list on Amazon.  So the plan was to either buy it, discount viagra advice delete it or move it to a new Maybe List, cialis buy sale which resulted in cutting down the primary list from 135 to 29 albums.

Examples of music I deleted from the list include Hank Williams’ Unreleased Recordings box set (I bought the abridged version on vinyl instead), Tom Waits’ Bone Machine (I love the man, but I just can’t do it), Magnetic Fields’ The Wayward Bus (ok, really, I don’t need to have everything they ever released).

Music I moved to the Maybe List include Harper Simon’ self-titled album (yes, that’s Paul’s son; I like it, but need to listen a few more times), Lambchop’s Oh (Ohio) (I don’t know why I don’t just pull the trigger on this one), The Grand Archives’ self-titled album (founded by former member of Band of Horses).

Music I bought include Josh Rouse’s Nashville (it’s a shame his music isn’t more prominent), Fountains of Wayne’s Utopia Parkway (why not!), Elliott Smith’s Figure 8 (I have no excuse for letting this linger for so long), The Last Town Chorus’ Wire Waltz (see below).

I admit I’m a sucker for somber, melancholic music, and Megan Hickey of The Last Town Chorus serves it up on a cosmic-size palette of atmospheric lap-steel guitar and ethereal vocals.  The album’s elegiac quality is perfect for those lonely nights on the patio under the stars (without the noisy, upper-middle class white trash neighbors around).  There are echoes of Spiritualized’s spacey soundscape, but Hickey is mindful of the underlying folk-country essence.  Her voice reminds me of Belly’s Tanya Donelly, and her lap-steel guitar style reminds me of, well, no one – it’s utterly unique for that instrument (but perhaps similar to The Edge on electric guitar).

Wire Waltz, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

Modern Love, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).  Yes, it is indeed a David Bowie cover, but completely re-invented.

Caroline, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

As a bonus: Feed The Tree, Belly (from Star, 1993).  God, I can’t believe this was 16 years ago.
[Quote from Village Voice]

A few months ago I decided to clear out my increasingly unwieldy music wish list on Amazon.  So the plan was to either buy it, viagra sales diagnosis delete it or move it to a new Maybe List, stuff which resulted in cutting down the primary list from 135 to 29 albums.

Examples of music I deleted from the list include Hank Williams’ Unreleased Recordings box set (I bought the abridged version on vinyl instead), cheap Tom Waits’ Bone Machine (I love the man, but I just can’t do it), Magnetic Fields’ The Wayward Bus (ok, really, I don’t need to have everything they ever released).

Music I moved to the Maybe List include Harper Simon’s self-titled album (yes, that’s Paul’s son; I like it, but need to listen a few more times), Lambchop’s Oh (Ohio) (I don’t know why I don’t just pull the trigger on this one), The Grand Archives’ self-titled album (founded by former member of Band of Horses).

Music I bought include Josh Rouse’s Nashville (it’s a shame his music isn’t more prominent), Fountains of Wayne’s Utopia Parkway (why not!), Elliott Smith’s Figure 8 (I have no excuse for letting this linger for so long), The Last Town Chorus’ Wire Waltz (see below).

I admit I’m a sucker for somber, melancholic music, and Megan Hickey of The Last Town Chorus serves it up on a cosmic-size palette of atmospheric lap-steel guitar and ethereal vocals.  The album’s elegiac quality is perfect for those lonely nights on the patio under the stars (without the noisy, upper-middle class white trash neighbors around).  There are echoes of Spiritualized’s spacey soundscape, but Hickey is mindful of the underlying folk-country essence.  Her voice reminds me of Belly’s Tanya Donelly, and her lap-steel guitar style reminds me of, well, no one – it’s utterly unique for that instrument (but perhaps similar to The Edge on electric guitar).

Wire Waltz, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

Modern Love, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).  Yes, it is indeed a David Bowie cover, but completely re-invented.

Caroline, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

As a bonus: Feed The Tree, Belly (from Star, 1993).  God, I can’t believe this was 16 years ago.
[Quote from Village Voice]

A few months ago I decided to clear out my increasingly unwieldy music wish list on Amazon.  So the plan was to either buy it, cialis generic nurse delete it or move it to a new Maybe List, discount cialis check which resulted in cutting down the primary list from 135 to 29 albums.

Examples of music I deleted from the list include Hank Williams’ Unreleased Recordings box set (I bought the abridged version on vinyl instead), buy viagra Tom Waits’ Bone Machine (I love the man, but I just can’t do it), Magnetic Fields’ The Wayward Bus (ok, really, I don’t need to have everything they ever released).

Music I moved to the Maybe List include Harper Simon’s self-titled album (yes, that’s Paul’s son; I like it, but need to listen a few more times), Lambchop’s Oh (Ohio) (I don’t know why I don’t just pull the trigger on this one), The Grand Archives’ self-titled album (founded by former member of Band of Horses).

Music I bought include Josh Rouse’s Nashville (it’s a shame his music isn’t more prominent), Fountains of Wayne’s Utopia Parkway (why not!), Elliott Smith’s Figure 8 (I have no excuse for letting this linger for so long), The Last Town Chorus’ Wire Waltz (see below).

I admit I’m a sucker for somber, melancholic music, and Megan Hickey of The Last Town Chorus serves it up on a cosmic-size palette of atmospheric lap-steel guitar and ethereal vocals.  The album’s elegiac quality is perfect for those lonely nights on the patio under the stars (without the noisy, upper-middle class white trash neighbors around).  There are echoes of Spiritualized’s spacey soundscape, but Hickey is mindful of the underlying folk-country essence.  Her voice reminds me of Belly’s Tanya Donelly, and her lap-steel guitar style reminds me of, well, no one – it’s utterly unique for that instrument (but perhaps similar to The Edge on electric guitar).

Wire Waltz, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

Modern Love, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).  Yes, it is indeed a David Bowie cover, but completely re-invented.

Caroline, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

As a bonus: Feed The Tree, Belly (from Star, 1993).  God, I can’t believe this was 16 years ago.
[Quote from Village Voice]

A few months ago I decided to clear out my increasingly unwieldy music wish list on Amazon.  So the plan was to either buy it, viagra buy generic delete it or move it to a new Maybe List, which resulted in cutting down the primary list from 135 to 29 albums.

Examples of music I deleted from the list include Hank Williams’ Unreleased Recordings box set (I bought the abridged version on vinyl instead), Tom Waits’ Bone Machine (I love the man, but I just can’t do it), Magnetic Fields’ The Wayward Bus (ok, really, I don’t need to have everything they ever released).

Music I moved to the Maybe List include Harper Simon’s self-titled album (yes, that’s Paul’s son; I like it, but need to listen a few more times), Lambchop’s Oh (Ohio) (I don’t know why I don’t just pull the trigger on this one), The Grand Archives’ self-titled album (founded by former member of Band of Horses).

Music I bought include Josh Rouse’s Nashville (it’s a shame his music isn’t more prominent), Fountains of Wayne’s Utopia Parkway (why not!), Elliott Smith’s Figure 8 (I have no excuse for letting this linger for so long), The Last Town Chorus’ Wire Waltz (see below).

I admit I’m a sucker for somber, melancholic music, and Megan Hickey of The Last Town Chorus serves it up on a cosmic-size palette of atmospheric lap-steel guitar and ethereal vocals.  The album’s elegiac quality is perfect for those lonely nights on the patio under the stars (without the noisy, upper-middle class white trash neighbors around).  There are echoes of Spiritualized’s spacey soundscape, but Hickey is mindful of the underlying folk-country essence.  Her voice reminds me of Belly’s Tanya Donelly, and her lap-steel guitar style reminds me of, well, no one – it’s utterly unique for that instrument (but perhaps similar to The Edge on electric guitar).

Wire Waltz, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

Modern Love, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).  Yes, it is indeed a David Bowie cover, but completely re-invented.

Caroline, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

As a bonus: Feed The Tree, Belly (from Star, 1993).  God, I can’t believe this was 16 years ago.
Quote from Village Voice]

A few months ago I decided to clear out my increasingly unwieldy music wish list on Amazon.  So the plan was to either buy it, viagra sales stuff delete it or move it to a new Maybe List, viagra sale sale which resulted in cutting down the primary list from 135 to 29 albums.

Examples of music I deleted from the list include Hank Williams’ Unreleased Recordings box set (I bought the abridged version on vinyl instead), Tom Waits’ Bone Machine (I love the man, but I just can’t do it), Magnetic Fields’ The Wayward Bus (ok, really, I don’t need to have everything they ever released).

Music I moved to the Maybe List include Harper Simon’ self-titled album (yes, that’s Paul’s son; I like it, but need to listen a few more times), Lambchop’ Oh (Ohio) (I don’t know why I don’t just pull the trigger on this one), The Grand Archives’ self-titled album (founded by former member of Band of Horses).

Music I bought include Josh Rouse’s Nashville (it’s a shame his music isn’t more prominent), Fountains of Wayne’s Utopia Parkway (why not!), Elliott Smith’s Figure 8 (I have no excuse for letting this linger for so long), The Last Town Chorus’ Wire Waltz (see below).

I admit I’m a sucker for somber, melancholic music, and Megan Hickey of The Last Town Chorus serves it up on a cosmic-size palette of atmospheric lap-steel guitar and ethereal vocals.  The album’s elegiac quality is perfect for those lonely nights on the patio under the stars (without the noisy, upper-middle class white trash neighbors around).  There are echoes of Spiritualized’s spacey soundscape, but Hickey is mindful of the underlying folk-country essence.  Her voice reminds me of Belly’s Tanya Donelly, and her lap-steel guitar style reminds me of, well, no one – it’s utterly unique for that instrument.

Wire Waltz, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

Modern Love, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).  Yes, it is indeed a David Bowie cover, but completely re-invented.

Caroline, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

As a bonus: Feed The Tree, Belly (from Star, 1993).  God, I can’t believe this was 16 years ago.
[Quote from Village Voice]

A few months ago I decided to clear out my increasingly unwieldy music wish list on Amazon.  So the plan was to either buy it, best viagra buy delete it or move it to a new Maybe List, cialis sales recipe which resulted in cutting down the primary list from 135 to 29 albums.

Examples of music I deleted from the list include Hank Williams’ Unreleased Recordings box set (I bought the abridged version on vinyl instead), treat Tom Waits’ Bone Machine (I love the man, but I just can’t do it), Magnetic Fields’ The Wayward Bus (ok, really, I don’t need to have everything they ever released).

Music I moved to the Maybe List include Harper Simon’ self-titled album (yes, that’s Paul’s son; I like it, but need to listen a few more times), Lambchop’s Oh (Ohio) (I don’t know why I don’t just pull the trigger on this one), The Grand Archives’ self-titled album (founded by former member of Band of Horses).

Music I bought include Josh Rouse’s Nashville (it’s a shame his music isn’t more prominent), Fountains of Wayne’s Utopia Parkway (why not!), Elliott Smith’s Figure 8 (I have no excuse for letting this linger for so long), The Last Town Chorus’ Wire Waltz (see below).

I admit I’m a sucker for somber, melancholic music, and Megan Hickey of The Last Town Chorus serves it up on a cosmic-size palette of atmospheric lap-steel guitar and ethereal vocals.  The album’s elegiac quality is perfect for those lonely nights on the patio under the stars (without the noisy, upper-middle class white trash neighbors around).  There are echoes of Spiritualized’s spacey soundscape, but Hickey is mindful of the underlying folk-country essence.  Her voice reminds me of Belly’s Tanya Donelly, and her lap-steel guitar style reminds me of, well, no one – it’s utterly unique for that instrument (but perhaps similar to The Edge on electric guitar).

Wire Waltz, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

Modern Love, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).  Yes, it is indeed a David Bowie cover, but completely re-invented.

Caroline, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

As a bonus: Feed The Tree, Belly (from Star, 1993).  God, I can’t believe this was 16 years ago.
[Quote from Village Voice]

A few months ago I decided to clear out my increasingly unwieldy music wish list on Amazon.  So the plan was to either buy it, viagra sale diagnosis delete it or move it to a new Maybe List, cialis which resulted in cutting down the primary list from 135 to 29 albums.

Examples of music I deleted from the list include Hank Williams’ Unreleased Recordings box set (I bought the abridged version on vinyl instead), Tom Waits’ Bone Machine (I love the man, but I just can’t do it), Magnetic Fields’ The Wayward Bus (ok, really, I don’t need to have everything they ever released).

Music I moved to the Maybe List include Harper Simon’ self-titled album (yes, that’s Paul’s son; I like it, but need to listen a few more times), Lambchop’s Oh (Ohio) (I don’t know why I don’t just pull the trigger on this one), The Grand Archives’ self-titled album (founded by former member of Band of Horses).

Music I bought include Josh Rouse’s Nashville (it’s a shame his music isn’t more prominent), Fountains of Wayne’s Utopia Parkway (why not!), Elliott Smith’s Figure 8 (I have no excuse for letting this linger for so long), The Last Town Chorus’ Wire Waltz (see below).

I admit I’m a sucker for somber, melancholic music, and Megan Hickey of The Last Town Chorus serves it up on a cosmic-size palette of atmospheric lap-steel guitar and ethereal vocals.  The album’s elegiac quality is perfect for those lonely nights on the patio under the stars (without the noisy, upper-middle class white trash neighbors around).  There are echoes of Spiritualized’s spacey soundscape, but Hickey is mindful of the underlying folk-country essence.  Her voice reminds me of Belly’s Tanya Donelly, and her lap-steel guitar style reminds me of, well, no one – it’s utterly unique for that instrument (but perhaps similar to The Edge on electric guitar).

Wire Waltz, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

Modern Love, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).  Yes, it is indeed a David Bowie cover, but completely re-invented.

Caroline, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

As a bonus: Feed The Tree, Belly (from Star, 1993).  God, I can’t believe this was 16 years ago.
[Quote from Village Voice]

A few months ago I decided to clear out my increasingly unwieldy music wish list on Amazon.  So the plan was to either buy it, viagra generic generic delete it or move it to a new Maybe List, buy viagra which resulted in cutting down the primary list from 135 to 29 albums.

Examples of music I deleted from the list include Hank Williams’ Unreleased Recordings box set (I bought the abridged version on vinyl instead), Tom Waits’ Bone Machine (I love the man, but I just can’t do it), Magnetic Fields’ The Wayward Bus (ok, really, I don’t need to have everything they ever released).

Music I moved to the Maybe List include Harper Simon’ self-titled album (yes, that’s Paul’s son; I like it, but need to listen a few more times), Lambchop’s Oh (Ohio) (I don’t know why I don’t just pull the trigger on this one), The Grand Archives’ self-titled album (founded by former member of Band of Horses).

Music I bought include Josh Rouse’s Nashville (it’s a shame his music isn’t more prominent), Fountains of Wayne’s Utopia Parkway (why not!), Elliott Smith’s Figure 8 (I have no excuse for letting this linger for so long), The Last Town Chorus’ Wire Waltz (see below).

I admit I’m a sucker for somber, melancholic music, and Megan Hickey of The Last Town Chorus serves it up on a cosmic-size palette of atmospheric lap-steel guitar and ethereal vocals.  The album’s elegiac quality is perfect for those lonely nights on the patio under the stars (without the noisy, upper-middle class white trash neighbors around).  There are echoes of Spiritualized’s spacey soundscape, but Hickey is mindful of the underlying folk-country essence.  Her voice reminds me of Belly’s Tanya Donelly, and her lap-steel guitar style reminds me of, well, no one – it’s utterly unique for that instrument (but perhaps similar to The Edge on electric guitar).

Wire Waltz, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

Modern Love, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).  Yes, it is indeed a David Bowie cover, but completely re-invented.

Caroline, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

As a bonus: Feed The Tree, Belly (from Star, 1993).  God, I can’t believe this was 16 years ago.
[Quote from Village Voice]

A few months ago I decided to clear out my increasingly unwieldy music wish list on Amazon.  So the plan was to either buy it, discount viagra advice delete it or move it to a new Maybe List, cialis buy sale which resulted in cutting down the primary list from 135 to 29 albums.

Examples of music I deleted from the list include Hank Williams’ Unreleased Recordings box set (I bought the abridged version on vinyl instead), Tom Waits’ Bone Machine (I love the man, but I just can’t do it), Magnetic Fields’ The Wayward Bus (ok, really, I don’t need to have everything they ever released).

Music I moved to the Maybe List include Harper Simon’ self-titled album (yes, that’s Paul’s son; I like it, but need to listen a few more times), Lambchop’s Oh (Ohio) (I don’t know why I don’t just pull the trigger on this one), The Grand Archives’ self-titled album (founded by former member of Band of Horses).

Music I bought include Josh Rouse’s Nashville (it’s a shame his music isn’t more prominent), Fountains of Wayne’s Utopia Parkway (why not!), Elliott Smith’s Figure 8 (I have no excuse for letting this linger for so long), The Last Town Chorus’ Wire Waltz (see below).

I admit I’m a sucker for somber, melancholic music, and Megan Hickey of The Last Town Chorus serves it up on a cosmic-size palette of atmospheric lap-steel guitar and ethereal vocals.  The album’s elegiac quality is perfect for those lonely nights on the patio under the stars (without the noisy, upper-middle class white trash neighbors around).  There are echoes of Spiritualized’s spacey soundscape, but Hickey is mindful of the underlying folk-country essence.  Her voice reminds me of Belly’s Tanya Donelly, and her lap-steel guitar style reminds me of, well, no one – it’s utterly unique for that instrument (but perhaps similar to The Edge on electric guitar).

Wire Waltz, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

Modern Love, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).  Yes, it is indeed a David Bowie cover, but completely re-invented.

Caroline, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

As a bonus: Feed The Tree, Belly (from Star, 1993).  God, I can’t believe this was 16 years ago.
[Quote from Village Voice]

A few months ago I decided to clear out my increasingly unwieldy music wish list on Amazon.  So the plan was to either buy it, viagra sales diagnosis delete it or move it to a new Maybe List, stuff which resulted in cutting down the primary list from 135 to 29 albums.

Examples of music I deleted from the list include Hank Williams’ Unreleased Recordings box set (I bought the abridged version on vinyl instead), cheap Tom Waits’ Bone Machine (I love the man, but I just can’t do it), Magnetic Fields’ The Wayward Bus (ok, really, I don’t need to have everything they ever released).

Music I moved to the Maybe List include Harper Simon’s self-titled album (yes, that’s Paul’s son; I like it, but need to listen a few more times), Lambchop’s Oh (Ohio) (I don’t know why I don’t just pull the trigger on this one), The Grand Archives’ self-titled album (founded by former member of Band of Horses).

Music I bought include Josh Rouse’s Nashville (it’s a shame his music isn’t more prominent), Fountains of Wayne’s Utopia Parkway (why not!), Elliott Smith’s Figure 8 (I have no excuse for letting this linger for so long), The Last Town Chorus’ Wire Waltz (see below).

I admit I’m a sucker for somber, melancholic music, and Megan Hickey of The Last Town Chorus serves it up on a cosmic-size palette of atmospheric lap-steel guitar and ethereal vocals.  The album’s elegiac quality is perfect for those lonely nights on the patio under the stars (without the noisy, upper-middle class white trash neighbors around).  There are echoes of Spiritualized’s spacey soundscape, but Hickey is mindful of the underlying folk-country essence.  Her voice reminds me of Belly’s Tanya Donelly, and her lap-steel guitar style reminds me of, well, no one – it’s utterly unique for that instrument (but perhaps similar to The Edge on electric guitar).

Wire Waltz, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

Modern Love, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).  Yes, it is indeed a David Bowie cover, but completely re-invented.

Caroline, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

As a bonus: Feed The Tree, Belly (from Star, 1993).  God, I can’t believe this was 16 years ago.
[Quote from Village Voice]

A few months ago I decided to clear out my increasingly unwieldy music wish list on Amazon.  So the plan was to either buy it, cialis generic nurse delete it or move it to a new Maybe List, discount cialis check which resulted in cutting down the primary list from 135 to 29 albums.

Examples of music I deleted from the list include Hank Williams’ Unreleased Recordings box set (I bought the abridged version on vinyl instead), buy viagra Tom Waits’ Bone Machine (I love the man, but I just can’t do it), Magnetic Fields’ The Wayward Bus (ok, really, I don’t need to have everything they ever released).

Music I moved to the Maybe List include Harper Simon’s self-titled album (yes, that’s Paul’s son; I like it, but need to listen a few more times), Lambchop’s Oh (Ohio) (I don’t know why I don’t just pull the trigger on this one), The Grand Archives’ self-titled album (founded by former member of Band of Horses).

Music I bought include Josh Rouse’s Nashville (it’s a shame his music isn’t more prominent), Fountains of Wayne’s Utopia Parkway (why not!), Elliott Smith’s Figure 8 (I have no excuse for letting this linger for so long), The Last Town Chorus’ Wire Waltz (see below).

I admit I’m a sucker for somber, melancholic music, and Megan Hickey of The Last Town Chorus serves it up on a cosmic-size palette of atmospheric lap-steel guitar and ethereal vocals.  The album’s elegiac quality is perfect for those lonely nights on the patio under the stars (without the noisy, upper-middle class white trash neighbors around).  There are echoes of Spiritualized’s spacey soundscape, but Hickey is mindful of the underlying folk-country essence.  Her voice reminds me of Belly’s Tanya Donelly, and her lap-steel guitar style reminds me of, well, no one – it’s utterly unique for that instrument (but perhaps similar to The Edge on electric guitar).

Wire Waltz, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

Modern Love, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).  Yes, it is indeed a David Bowie cover, but completely re-invented.

Caroline, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

As a bonus: Feed The Tree, Belly (from Star, 1993).  God, I can’t believe this was 16 years ago.
[Quote from Village Voice]

A few months ago I decided to clear out my increasingly unwieldy music wish list on Amazon.  So the plan was to either buy it, viagra buy generic delete it or move it to a new Maybe List, which resulted in cutting down the primary list from 135 to 29 albums.

Examples of music I deleted from the list include Hank Williams’ Unreleased Recordings box set (I bought the abridged version on vinyl instead), Tom Waits’ Bone Machine (I love the man, but I just can’t do it), Magnetic Fields’ The Wayward Bus (ok, really, I don’t need to have everything they ever released).

Music I moved to the Maybe List include Harper Simon’s self-titled album (yes, that’s Paul’s son; I like it, but need to listen a few more times), Lambchop’s Oh (Ohio) (I don’t know why I don’t just pull the trigger on this one), The Grand Archives’ self-titled album (founded by former member of Band of Horses).

Music I bought include Josh Rouse’s Nashville (it’s a shame his music isn’t more prominent), Fountains of Wayne’s Utopia Parkway (why not!), Elliott Smith’s Figure 8 (I have no excuse for letting this linger for so long), The Last Town Chorus’ Wire Waltz (see below).

I admit I’m a sucker for somber, melancholic music, and Megan Hickey of The Last Town Chorus serves it up on a cosmic-size palette of atmospheric lap-steel guitar and ethereal vocals.  The album’s elegiac quality is perfect for those lonely nights on the patio under the stars (without the noisy, upper-middle class white trash neighbors around).  There are echoes of Spiritualized’s spacey soundscape, but Hickey is mindful of the underlying folk-country essence.  Her voice reminds me of Belly’s Tanya Donelly, and her lap-steel guitar style reminds me of, well, no one – it’s utterly unique for that instrument (but perhaps similar to The Edge on electric guitar).

Wire Waltz, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

Modern Love, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).  Yes, it is indeed a David Bowie cover, but completely re-invented.

Caroline, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

As a bonus: Feed The Tree, Belly (from Star, 1993).  God, I can’t believe this was 16 years ago.
It was 1998.  Graduate school.  A tough week of exams.  Late night at a bar.  Came home and drank gallons of Gatorade and took preemptive aspirin.  Slid onto the couch and turned on TV.

I didn’t remember much else from that night, viagra generic ailment but two weeks later I received a package from Time Life, cialis and in it I found a box set titled, see “The Rock ‘N’ Roll Era”.  Spread out over 13 CDs, the box set cataloged some of the best known songs from the 50s and 60s.  At first I thought it was a belated Christmas gift from someone who knew that I grew up listening exclusively to oldies and classic rock, but there was no card, no name, no nothing. But like Scooby and Shaggy, it took about 25 minutes to solve the mystery – the same amount of time to read all the enclosed brochures (I looove brochures) and carefully cut away the shrink wrap on all 13 CDs using an x-acto knife (I was a little anal retentive back then).  As I read the brochures describing the content of the package and thumbed through the CDs, I began to realize what happened on the night two weeks prior – it was my first drunken-late-night-infomercial-purchase incident.  (Sigh – it was not my last.)

Of course, you must understand that this was not my fault. It’s true – I have a weakness, nay genetic disposition to infomercial purchases. My father had a disease, a disease that manifested only on Sundays between 11am-3:30pm while the TV was tuned to either WGN or TBS. He couldn’t help himself from buying completely useless, but well packaged, crap for years and years as we – the rest of the family – collectively clucked our tongues and shook our heads in shame. Don’t believe it was a disease? I have three words for you: Deli. Meat. Slicer. God, I hated ham for a long time afterwards.

So I apparently came home that night, watched the Time Life infomercial, proceeded to call the 800 number, gave my credit card information to buy the 13-CD set, AND somehow agreed to buy the Time Life The Rock ‘N’ Roll Era Still Rockin’ 5-CD extended collection – AND completely forgot about it.  One week later, I indeed did receive the extended collection increasing my stake in Time Life Music.  That’s right – I now had not 13, but 18 CDs from Time Life.

I’m somewhat (but not entirely) embarrassed to admit that there have been other infomercial purchases – inebriated or not.  No need to go into details of all the various devices and such, but I will say that for two weeks in 2000, I had the best beef jerky!  And ok, let me just make it clear that I ordered the Snuggie FOR Amanda because she always complains about being too cold!  Now…did I need to agree to accept the second one for free (and just pay the additional shipping and handling fee of $10)??  No…that one’s on me.  I admit it.

Anyway, here are a few selections from my vast Time Life Music collection.  The first is the original, followed by a great cover.

Sea of Love, Phil Phillips.
Sea Of Love, Cat Power (from The Covers Album, 2000).  Yes, yes, the Honeydrippers version is better known, but I love her voice.

Hey! Baby, Bruce Channel.
Hey! Baby, The Holmes Brothers (from Simple Truths, 2004).  The entire album is quite good.

Last Kiss, J. Frank Wilson & The Cavaliers.
Last Kiss, Pearl Jam (from rearviewmirrors, 2006).  This is probably at or near the top of the A-Cover-Of-A-60s-Song-That-Kids-Think-Is-An-Original List.  Stupid kids.

My Boyfriend’s Back, The Angels.
My Boyfriend’s Back, Raveonettes (from Pretty in Black, 2005).  Just enough fuzz to make the confection more palatable.
Quote from Village Voice]

A few months ago I decided to clear out my increasingly unwieldy music wish list on Amazon.  So the plan was to either buy it, viagra sales stuff delete it or move it to a new Maybe List, viagra sale sale which resulted in cutting down the primary list from 135 to 29 albums.

Examples of music I deleted from the list include Hank Williams’ Unreleased Recordings box set (I bought the abridged version on vinyl instead), Tom Waits’ Bone Machine (I love the man, but I just can’t do it), Magnetic Fields’ The Wayward Bus (ok, really, I don’t need to have everything they ever released).

Music I moved to the Maybe List include Harper Simon’ self-titled album (yes, that’s Paul’s son; I like it, but need to listen a few more times), Lambchop’ Oh (Ohio) (I don’t know why I don’t just pull the trigger on this one), The Grand Archives’ self-titled album (founded by former member of Band of Horses).

Music I bought include Josh Rouse’s Nashville (it’s a shame his music isn’t more prominent), Fountains of Wayne’s Utopia Parkway (why not!), Elliott Smith’s Figure 8 (I have no excuse for letting this linger for so long), The Last Town Chorus’ Wire Waltz (see below).

I admit I’m a sucker for somber, melancholic music, and Megan Hickey of The Last Town Chorus serves it up on a cosmic-size palette of atmospheric lap-steel guitar and ethereal vocals.  The album’s elegiac quality is perfect for those lonely nights on the patio under the stars (without the noisy, upper-middle class white trash neighbors around).  There are echoes of Spiritualized’s spacey soundscape, but Hickey is mindful of the underlying folk-country essence.  Her voice reminds me of Belly’s Tanya Donelly, and her lap-steel guitar style reminds me of, well, no one – it’s utterly unique for that instrument.

Wire Waltz, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

Modern Love, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).  Yes, it is indeed a David Bowie cover, but completely re-invented.

Caroline, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

As a bonus: Feed The Tree, Belly (from Star, 1993).  God, I can’t believe this was 16 years ago.
[Quote from Village Voice]

A few months ago I decided to clear out my increasingly unwieldy music wish list on Amazon.  So the plan was to either buy it, best viagra buy delete it or move it to a new Maybe List, cialis sales recipe which resulted in cutting down the primary list from 135 to 29 albums.

Examples of music I deleted from the list include Hank Williams’ Unreleased Recordings box set (I bought the abridged version on vinyl instead), treat Tom Waits’ Bone Machine (I love the man, but I just can’t do it), Magnetic Fields’ The Wayward Bus (ok, really, I don’t need to have everything they ever released).

Music I moved to the Maybe List include Harper Simon’ self-titled album (yes, that’s Paul’s son; I like it, but need to listen a few more times), Lambchop’s Oh (Ohio) (I don’t know why I don’t just pull the trigger on this one), The Grand Archives’ self-titled album (founded by former member of Band of Horses).

Music I bought include Josh Rouse’s Nashville (it’s a shame his music isn’t more prominent), Fountains of Wayne’s Utopia Parkway (why not!), Elliott Smith’s Figure 8 (I have no excuse for letting this linger for so long), The Last Town Chorus’ Wire Waltz (see below).

I admit I’m a sucker for somber, melancholic music, and Megan Hickey of The Last Town Chorus serves it up on a cosmic-size palette of atmospheric lap-steel guitar and ethereal vocals.  The album’s elegiac quality is perfect for those lonely nights on the patio under the stars (without the noisy, upper-middle class white trash neighbors around).  There are echoes of Spiritualized’s spacey soundscape, but Hickey is mindful of the underlying folk-country essence.  Her voice reminds me of Belly’s Tanya Donelly, and her lap-steel guitar style reminds me of, well, no one – it’s utterly unique for that instrument (but perhaps similar to The Edge on electric guitar).

Wire Waltz, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

Modern Love, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).  Yes, it is indeed a David Bowie cover, but completely re-invented.

Caroline, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

As a bonus: Feed The Tree, Belly (from Star, 1993).  God, I can’t believe this was 16 years ago.
[Quote from Village Voice]

A few months ago I decided to clear out my increasingly unwieldy music wish list on Amazon.  So the plan was to either buy it, viagra sale diagnosis delete it or move it to a new Maybe List, cialis which resulted in cutting down the primary list from 135 to 29 albums.

Examples of music I deleted from the list include Hank Williams’ Unreleased Recordings box set (I bought the abridged version on vinyl instead), Tom Waits’ Bone Machine (I love the man, but I just can’t do it), Magnetic Fields’ The Wayward Bus (ok, really, I don’t need to have everything they ever released).

Music I moved to the Maybe List include Harper Simon’ self-titled album (yes, that’s Paul’s son; I like it, but need to listen a few more times), Lambchop’s Oh (Ohio) (I don’t know why I don’t just pull the trigger on this one), The Grand Archives’ self-titled album (founded by former member of Band of Horses).

Music I bought include Josh Rouse’s Nashville (it’s a shame his music isn’t more prominent), Fountains of Wayne’s Utopia Parkway (why not!), Elliott Smith’s Figure 8 (I have no excuse for letting this linger for so long), The Last Town Chorus’ Wire Waltz (see below).

I admit I’m a sucker for somber, melancholic music, and Megan Hickey of The Last Town Chorus serves it up on a cosmic-size palette of atmospheric lap-steel guitar and ethereal vocals.  The album’s elegiac quality is perfect for those lonely nights on the patio under the stars (without the noisy, upper-middle class white trash neighbors around).  There are echoes of Spiritualized’s spacey soundscape, but Hickey is mindful of the underlying folk-country essence.  Her voice reminds me of Belly’s Tanya Donelly, and her lap-steel guitar style reminds me of, well, no one – it’s utterly unique for that instrument (but perhaps similar to The Edge on electric guitar).

Wire Waltz, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

Modern Love, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).  Yes, it is indeed a David Bowie cover, but completely re-invented.

Caroline, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

As a bonus: Feed The Tree, Belly (from Star, 1993).  God, I can’t believe this was 16 years ago.
[Quote from Village Voice]

A few months ago I decided to clear out my increasingly unwieldy music wish list on Amazon.  So the plan was to either buy it, viagra generic generic delete it or move it to a new Maybe List, buy viagra which resulted in cutting down the primary list from 135 to 29 albums.

Examples of music I deleted from the list include Hank Williams’ Unreleased Recordings box set (I bought the abridged version on vinyl instead), Tom Waits’ Bone Machine (I love the man, but I just can’t do it), Magnetic Fields’ The Wayward Bus (ok, really, I don’t need to have everything they ever released).

Music I moved to the Maybe List include Harper Simon’ self-titled album (yes, that’s Paul’s son; I like it, but need to listen a few more times), Lambchop’s Oh (Ohio) (I don’t know why I don’t just pull the trigger on this one), The Grand Archives’ self-titled album (founded by former member of Band of Horses).

Music I bought include Josh Rouse’s Nashville (it’s a shame his music isn’t more prominent), Fountains of Wayne’s Utopia Parkway (why not!), Elliott Smith’s Figure 8 (I have no excuse for letting this linger for so long), The Last Town Chorus’ Wire Waltz (see below).

I admit I’m a sucker for somber, melancholic music, and Megan Hickey of The Last Town Chorus serves it up on a cosmic-size palette of atmospheric lap-steel guitar and ethereal vocals.  The album’s elegiac quality is perfect for those lonely nights on the patio under the stars (without the noisy, upper-middle class white trash neighbors around).  There are echoes of Spiritualized’s spacey soundscape, but Hickey is mindful of the underlying folk-country essence.  Her voice reminds me of Belly’s Tanya Donelly, and her lap-steel guitar style reminds me of, well, no one – it’s utterly unique for that instrument (but perhaps similar to The Edge on electric guitar).

Wire Waltz, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

Modern Love, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).  Yes, it is indeed a David Bowie cover, but completely re-invented.

Caroline, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

As a bonus: Feed The Tree, Belly (from Star, 1993).  God, I can’t believe this was 16 years ago.
[Quote from Village Voice]

A few months ago I decided to clear out my increasingly unwieldy music wish list on Amazon.  So the plan was to either buy it, discount viagra advice delete it or move it to a new Maybe List, cialis buy sale which resulted in cutting down the primary list from 135 to 29 albums.

Examples of music I deleted from the list include Hank Williams’ Unreleased Recordings box set (I bought the abridged version on vinyl instead), Tom Waits’ Bone Machine (I love the man, but I just can’t do it), Magnetic Fields’ The Wayward Bus (ok, really, I don’t need to have everything they ever released).

Music I moved to the Maybe List include Harper Simon’ self-titled album (yes, that’s Paul’s son; I like it, but need to listen a few more times), Lambchop’s Oh (Ohio) (I don’t know why I don’t just pull the trigger on this one), The Grand Archives’ self-titled album (founded by former member of Band of Horses).

Music I bought include Josh Rouse’s Nashville (it’s a shame his music isn’t more prominent), Fountains of Wayne’s Utopia Parkway (why not!), Elliott Smith’s Figure 8 (I have no excuse for letting this linger for so long), The Last Town Chorus’ Wire Waltz (see below).

I admit I’m a sucker for somber, melancholic music, and Megan Hickey of The Last Town Chorus serves it up on a cosmic-size palette of atmospheric lap-steel guitar and ethereal vocals.  The album’s elegiac quality is perfect for those lonely nights on the patio under the stars (without the noisy, upper-middle class white trash neighbors around).  There are echoes of Spiritualized’s spacey soundscape, but Hickey is mindful of the underlying folk-country essence.  Her voice reminds me of Belly’s Tanya Donelly, and her lap-steel guitar style reminds me of, well, no one – it’s utterly unique for that instrument (but perhaps similar to The Edge on electric guitar).

Wire Waltz, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

Modern Love, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).  Yes, it is indeed a David Bowie cover, but completely re-invented.

Caroline, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

As a bonus: Feed The Tree, Belly (from Star, 1993).  God, I can’t believe this was 16 years ago.
[Quote from Village Voice]

A few months ago I decided to clear out my increasingly unwieldy music wish list on Amazon.  So the plan was to either buy it, viagra sales diagnosis delete it or move it to a new Maybe List, stuff which resulted in cutting down the primary list from 135 to 29 albums.

Examples of music I deleted from the list include Hank Williams’ Unreleased Recordings box set (I bought the abridged version on vinyl instead), cheap Tom Waits’ Bone Machine (I love the man, but I just can’t do it), Magnetic Fields’ The Wayward Bus (ok, really, I don’t need to have everything they ever released).

Music I moved to the Maybe List include Harper Simon’s self-titled album (yes, that’s Paul’s son; I like it, but need to listen a few more times), Lambchop’s Oh (Ohio) (I don’t know why I don’t just pull the trigger on this one), The Grand Archives’ self-titled album (founded by former member of Band of Horses).

Music I bought include Josh Rouse’s Nashville (it’s a shame his music isn’t more prominent), Fountains of Wayne’s Utopia Parkway (why not!), Elliott Smith’s Figure 8 (I have no excuse for letting this linger for so long), The Last Town Chorus’ Wire Waltz (see below).

I admit I’m a sucker for somber, melancholic music, and Megan Hickey of The Last Town Chorus serves it up on a cosmic-size palette of atmospheric lap-steel guitar and ethereal vocals.  The album’s elegiac quality is perfect for those lonely nights on the patio under the stars (without the noisy, upper-middle class white trash neighbors around).  There are echoes of Spiritualized’s spacey soundscape, but Hickey is mindful of the underlying folk-country essence.  Her voice reminds me of Belly’s Tanya Donelly, and her lap-steel guitar style reminds me of, well, no one – it’s utterly unique for that instrument (but perhaps similar to The Edge on electric guitar).

Wire Waltz, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

Modern Love, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).  Yes, it is indeed a David Bowie cover, but completely re-invented.

Caroline, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

As a bonus: Feed The Tree, Belly (from Star, 1993).  God, I can’t believe this was 16 years ago.
[Quote from Village Voice]

A few months ago I decided to clear out my increasingly unwieldy music wish list on Amazon.  So the plan was to either buy it, cialis generic nurse delete it or move it to a new Maybe List, discount cialis check which resulted in cutting down the primary list from 135 to 29 albums.

Examples of music I deleted from the list include Hank Williams’ Unreleased Recordings box set (I bought the abridged version on vinyl instead), buy viagra Tom Waits’ Bone Machine (I love the man, but I just can’t do it), Magnetic Fields’ The Wayward Bus (ok, really, I don’t need to have everything they ever released).

Music I moved to the Maybe List include Harper Simon’s self-titled album (yes, that’s Paul’s son; I like it, but need to listen a few more times), Lambchop’s Oh (Ohio) (I don’t know why I don’t just pull the trigger on this one), The Grand Archives’ self-titled album (founded by former member of Band of Horses).

Music I bought include Josh Rouse’s Nashville (it’s a shame his music isn’t more prominent), Fountains of Wayne’s Utopia Parkway (why not!), Elliott Smith’s Figure 8 (I have no excuse for letting this linger for so long), The Last Town Chorus’ Wire Waltz (see below).

I admit I’m a sucker for somber, melancholic music, and Megan Hickey of The Last Town Chorus serves it up on a cosmic-size palette of atmospheric lap-steel guitar and ethereal vocals.  The album’s elegiac quality is perfect for those lonely nights on the patio under the stars (without the noisy, upper-middle class white trash neighbors around).  There are echoes of Spiritualized’s spacey soundscape, but Hickey is mindful of the underlying folk-country essence.  Her voice reminds me of Belly’s Tanya Donelly, and her lap-steel guitar style reminds me of, well, no one – it’s utterly unique for that instrument (but perhaps similar to The Edge on electric guitar).

Wire Waltz, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

Modern Love, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).  Yes, it is indeed a David Bowie cover, but completely re-invented.

Caroline, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

As a bonus: Feed The Tree, Belly (from Star, 1993).  God, I can’t believe this was 16 years ago.
[Quote from Village Voice]

A few months ago I decided to clear out my increasingly unwieldy music wish list on Amazon.  So the plan was to either buy it, viagra buy generic delete it or move it to a new Maybe List, which resulted in cutting down the primary list from 135 to 29 albums.

Examples of music I deleted from the list include Hank Williams’ Unreleased Recordings box set (I bought the abridged version on vinyl instead), Tom Waits’ Bone Machine (I love the man, but I just can’t do it), Magnetic Fields’ The Wayward Bus (ok, really, I don’t need to have everything they ever released).

Music I moved to the Maybe List include Harper Simon’s self-titled album (yes, that’s Paul’s son; I like it, but need to listen a few more times), Lambchop’s Oh (Ohio) (I don’t know why I don’t just pull the trigger on this one), The Grand Archives’ self-titled album (founded by former member of Band of Horses).

Music I bought include Josh Rouse’s Nashville (it’s a shame his music isn’t more prominent), Fountains of Wayne’s Utopia Parkway (why not!), Elliott Smith’s Figure 8 (I have no excuse for letting this linger for so long), The Last Town Chorus’ Wire Waltz (see below).

I admit I’m a sucker for somber, melancholic music, and Megan Hickey of The Last Town Chorus serves it up on a cosmic-size palette of atmospheric lap-steel guitar and ethereal vocals.  The album’s elegiac quality is perfect for those lonely nights on the patio under the stars (without the noisy, upper-middle class white trash neighbors around).  There are echoes of Spiritualized’s spacey soundscape, but Hickey is mindful of the underlying folk-country essence.  Her voice reminds me of Belly’s Tanya Donelly, and her lap-steel guitar style reminds me of, well, no one – it’s utterly unique for that instrument (but perhaps similar to The Edge on electric guitar).

Wire Waltz, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

Modern Love, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).  Yes, it is indeed a David Bowie cover, but completely re-invented.

Caroline, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

As a bonus: Feed The Tree, Belly (from Star, 1993).  God, I can’t believe this was 16 years ago.
It was 1998.  Graduate school.  A tough week of exams.  Late night at a bar.  Came home and drank gallons of Gatorade and took preemptive aspirin.  Slid onto the couch and turned on TV.

I didn’t remember much else from that night, viagra generic ailment but two weeks later I received a package from Time Life, cialis and in it I found a box set titled, see “The Rock ‘N’ Roll Era”.  Spread out over 13 CDs, the box set cataloged some of the best known songs from the 50s and 60s.  At first I thought it was a belated Christmas gift from someone who knew that I grew up listening exclusively to oldies and classic rock, but there was no card, no name, no nothing. But like Scooby and Shaggy, it took about 25 minutes to solve the mystery – the same amount of time to read all the enclosed brochures (I looove brochures) and carefully cut away the shrink wrap on all 13 CDs using an x-acto knife (I was a little anal retentive back then).  As I read the brochures describing the content of the package and thumbed through the CDs, I began to realize what happened on the night two weeks prior – it was my first drunken-late-night-infomercial-purchase incident.  (Sigh – it was not my last.)

Of course, you must understand that this was not my fault. It’s true – I have a weakness, nay genetic disposition to infomercial purchases. My father had a disease, a disease that manifested only on Sundays between 11am-3:30pm while the TV was tuned to either WGN or TBS. He couldn’t help himself from buying completely useless, but well packaged, crap for years and years as we – the rest of the family – collectively clucked our tongues and shook our heads in shame. Don’t believe it was a disease? I have three words for you: Deli. Meat. Slicer. God, I hated ham for a long time afterwards.

So I apparently came home that night, watched the Time Life infomercial, proceeded to call the 800 number, gave my credit card information to buy the 13-CD set, AND somehow agreed to buy the Time Life The Rock ‘N’ Roll Era Still Rockin’ 5-CD extended collection – AND completely forgot about it.  One week later, I indeed did receive the extended collection increasing my stake in Time Life Music.  That’s right – I now had not 13, but 18 CDs from Time Life.

I’m somewhat (but not entirely) embarrassed to admit that there have been other infomercial purchases – inebriated or not.  No need to go into details of all the various devices and such, but I will say that for two weeks in 2000, I had the best beef jerky!  And ok, let me just make it clear that I ordered the Snuggie FOR Amanda because she always complains about being too cold!  Now…did I need to agree to accept the second one for free (and just pay the additional shipping and handling fee of $10)??  No…that one’s on me.  I admit it.

Anyway, here are a few selections from my vast Time Life Music collection.  The first is the original, followed by a great cover.

Sea of Love, Phil Phillips.
Sea Of Love, Cat Power (from The Covers Album, 2000).  Yes, yes, the Honeydrippers version is better known, but I love her voice.

Hey! Baby, Bruce Channel.
Hey! Baby, The Holmes Brothers (from Simple Truths, 2004).  The entire album is quite good.

Last Kiss, J. Frank Wilson & The Cavaliers.
Last Kiss, Pearl Jam (from rearviewmirrors, 2006).  This is probably at or near the top of the A-Cover-Of-A-60s-Song-That-Kids-Think-Is-An-Original List.  Stupid kids.

My Boyfriend’s Back, The Angels.
My Boyfriend’s Back, Raveonettes (from Pretty in Black, 2005).  Just enough fuzz to make the confection more palatable.
It was 1998.  Graduate school.  A tough week of exams.  Late night at a bar.  Came home and drank gallons of Gatorade and took a preemptive aspirin.  Slid onto the couch and turned on TV.

I didn’t remember much else from that night, viagra canada troche but two weeks later I received a package from Time Life, and in it I found a box set titled, “The Rock ‘N’ Roll Era”.  Spread out over 13 CDs, the box set cataloged some of the best known songs from the 50s and 60s.  At first I thought it was a belated Christmas gift from someone who knew that I grew up listening exclusively to oldies and classic rock, but there was no card, no name, no nothing. But like Scooby and Shaggy, it took about 25 minutes to solve the mystery – the same amount of time to read all the enclosed brochures (I looove brochures) and carefully cut away the shrink wrap on all 13 CDs using an x-acto knife (I was a little anal retentive back then).  As I read the brochures describing the content of the package and thumbed through the CDs, I began to realize what happened on the night two weeks prior – it was my first drunken-late-night-infomercial-purchase incident.  (Sigh – it was not my last.)

Of course, you must understand that this was not my fault. It’s true – I have a weakness, nay genetic disposition to infomercial purchases. My father had a disease, a disease that manifested only on Sundays between 11am-3:30pm while the TV was tuned to either WGN or TBS. He couldn’t help himself from buying completely useless, but well packaged, crap for years and years as we – the rest of the family – collectively clucked our tongues and shook our heads in shame. Don’t believe it was a disease? I have three words for you: Deli. Meat. Slicer. God, I hated ham for a long time afterwards.

So I apparently came home that night, watched the Time Life infomercial, proceeded to call the 800 number, gave my credit card information to buy the 13-CD set, AND somehow agreed to buy the Time Life The Rock ‘N’ Roll Era Still Rockin’ 5-CD extended collection – AND completely forgot about it all.  One week later, I indeed did receive the extended collection increasing my stake in Time Life Music.  That’s right – I now had not 13, but 18 CDs from Time Life.

I’m somewhat (but not entirely) embarrassed to admit that there have been other infomercial purchases – inebriated or not.  No need to go into details of all the various devices and such, but I will say that for two weeks in 2000, I had the best beef jerky!  And ok, let me just make it clear that I ordered the Snuggie FOR Amanda because she always complains about being too cold!  Now…did I need to agree to accept the second one for free (and just pay the additional shipping and handling fee of $10)??  No…that one’s on me.  I admit it.

Anyway, here are a few selections from my vast Time Life Music collection.  The first is the original, followed by a great cover.

Sea of Love, Phil Phillips.
Sea Of Love, Cat Power (from The Covers Album, 2000).  Yes, yes, the Honeydrippers version is better known, but I love her voice.

Hey! Baby, Bruce Channel.
Hey! Baby, The Holmes Brothers (from Simple Truths, 2004).  The entire album is quite good.

Last Kiss, J. Frank Wilson & The Cavaliers.
Last Kiss, Pearl Jam (from rearviewmirrors, 2006).  This is probably at or near the top of the A-Cover-Of-A-60s-Song-That-Kids-Think-Is-An-Original List.  Stupid kids.

My Boyfriend’s Back, The Angels.
My Boyfriend’s Back, Raveonettes (from Pretty in Black, 2005).  Just enough fuzz to make the confection more palatable.
Quote from Village Voice]

A few months ago I decided to clear out my increasingly unwieldy music wish list on Amazon.  So the plan was to either buy it, viagra sales stuff delete it or move it to a new Maybe List, viagra sale sale which resulted in cutting down the primary list from 135 to 29 albums.

Examples of music I deleted from the list include Hank Williams’ Unreleased Recordings box set (I bought the abridged version on vinyl instead), Tom Waits’ Bone Machine (I love the man, but I just can’t do it), Magnetic Fields’ The Wayward Bus (ok, really, I don’t need to have everything they ever released).

Music I moved to the Maybe List include Harper Simon’ self-titled album (yes, that’s Paul’s son; I like it, but need to listen a few more times), Lambchop’ Oh (Ohio) (I don’t know why I don’t just pull the trigger on this one), The Grand Archives’ self-titled album (founded by former member of Band of Horses).

Music I bought include Josh Rouse’s Nashville (it’s a shame his music isn’t more prominent), Fountains of Wayne’s Utopia Parkway (why not!), Elliott Smith’s Figure 8 (I have no excuse for letting this linger for so long), The Last Town Chorus’ Wire Waltz (see below).

I admit I’m a sucker for somber, melancholic music, and Megan Hickey of The Last Town Chorus serves it up on a cosmic-size palette of atmospheric lap-steel guitar and ethereal vocals.  The album’s elegiac quality is perfect for those lonely nights on the patio under the stars (without the noisy, upper-middle class white trash neighbors around).  There are echoes of Spiritualized’s spacey soundscape, but Hickey is mindful of the underlying folk-country essence.  Her voice reminds me of Belly’s Tanya Donelly, and her lap-steel guitar style reminds me of, well, no one – it’s utterly unique for that instrument.

Wire Waltz, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

Modern Love, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).  Yes, it is indeed a David Bowie cover, but completely re-invented.

Caroline, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

As a bonus: Feed The Tree, Belly (from Star, 1993).  God, I can’t believe this was 16 years ago.
[Quote from Village Voice]

A few months ago I decided to clear out my increasingly unwieldy music wish list on Amazon.  So the plan was to either buy it, best viagra buy delete it or move it to a new Maybe List, cialis sales recipe which resulted in cutting down the primary list from 135 to 29 albums.

Examples of music I deleted from the list include Hank Williams’ Unreleased Recordings box set (I bought the abridged version on vinyl instead), treat Tom Waits’ Bone Machine (I love the man, but I just can’t do it), Magnetic Fields’ The Wayward Bus (ok, really, I don’t need to have everything they ever released).

Music I moved to the Maybe List include Harper Simon’ self-titled album (yes, that’s Paul’s son; I like it, but need to listen a few more times), Lambchop’s Oh (Ohio) (I don’t know why I don’t just pull the trigger on this one), The Grand Archives’ self-titled album (founded by former member of Band of Horses).

Music I bought include Josh Rouse’s Nashville (it’s a shame his music isn’t more prominent), Fountains of Wayne’s Utopia Parkway (why not!), Elliott Smith’s Figure 8 (I have no excuse for letting this linger for so long), The Last Town Chorus’ Wire Waltz (see below).

I admit I’m a sucker for somber, melancholic music, and Megan Hickey of The Last Town Chorus serves it up on a cosmic-size palette of atmospheric lap-steel guitar and ethereal vocals.  The album’s elegiac quality is perfect for those lonely nights on the patio under the stars (without the noisy, upper-middle class white trash neighbors around).  There are echoes of Spiritualized’s spacey soundscape, but Hickey is mindful of the underlying folk-country essence.  Her voice reminds me of Belly’s Tanya Donelly, and her lap-steel guitar style reminds me of, well, no one – it’s utterly unique for that instrument (but perhaps similar to The Edge on electric guitar).

Wire Waltz, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

Modern Love, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).  Yes, it is indeed a David Bowie cover, but completely re-invented.

Caroline, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

As a bonus: Feed The Tree, Belly (from Star, 1993).  God, I can’t believe this was 16 years ago.
[Quote from Village Voice]

A few months ago I decided to clear out my increasingly unwieldy music wish list on Amazon.  So the plan was to either buy it, viagra sale diagnosis delete it or move it to a new Maybe List, cialis which resulted in cutting down the primary list from 135 to 29 albums.

Examples of music I deleted from the list include Hank Williams’ Unreleased Recordings box set (I bought the abridged version on vinyl instead), Tom Waits’ Bone Machine (I love the man, but I just can’t do it), Magnetic Fields’ The Wayward Bus (ok, really, I don’t need to have everything they ever released).

Music I moved to the Maybe List include Harper Simon’ self-titled album (yes, that’s Paul’s son; I like it, but need to listen a few more times), Lambchop’s Oh (Ohio) (I don’t know why I don’t just pull the trigger on this one), The Grand Archives’ self-titled album (founded by former member of Band of Horses).

Music I bought include Josh Rouse’s Nashville (it’s a shame his music isn’t more prominent), Fountains of Wayne’s Utopia Parkway (why not!), Elliott Smith’s Figure 8 (I have no excuse for letting this linger for so long), The Last Town Chorus’ Wire Waltz (see below).

I admit I’m a sucker for somber, melancholic music, and Megan Hickey of The Last Town Chorus serves it up on a cosmic-size palette of atmospheric lap-steel guitar and ethereal vocals.  The album’s elegiac quality is perfect for those lonely nights on the patio under the stars (without the noisy, upper-middle class white trash neighbors around).  There are echoes of Spiritualized’s spacey soundscape, but Hickey is mindful of the underlying folk-country essence.  Her voice reminds me of Belly’s Tanya Donelly, and her lap-steel guitar style reminds me of, well, no one – it’s utterly unique for that instrument (but perhaps similar to The Edge on electric guitar).

Wire Waltz, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

Modern Love, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).  Yes, it is indeed a David Bowie cover, but completely re-invented.

Caroline, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

As a bonus: Feed The Tree, Belly (from Star, 1993).  God, I can’t believe this was 16 years ago.
[Quote from Village Voice]

A few months ago I decided to clear out my increasingly unwieldy music wish list on Amazon.  So the plan was to either buy it, viagra generic generic delete it or move it to a new Maybe List, buy viagra which resulted in cutting down the primary list from 135 to 29 albums.

Examples of music I deleted from the list include Hank Williams’ Unreleased Recordings box set (I bought the abridged version on vinyl instead), Tom Waits’ Bone Machine (I love the man, but I just can’t do it), Magnetic Fields’ The Wayward Bus (ok, really, I don’t need to have everything they ever released).

Music I moved to the Maybe List include Harper Simon’ self-titled album (yes, that’s Paul’s son; I like it, but need to listen a few more times), Lambchop’s Oh (Ohio) (I don’t know why I don’t just pull the trigger on this one), The Grand Archives’ self-titled album (founded by former member of Band of Horses).

Music I bought include Josh Rouse’s Nashville (it’s a shame his music isn’t more prominent), Fountains of Wayne’s Utopia Parkway (why not!), Elliott Smith’s Figure 8 (I have no excuse for letting this linger for so long), The Last Town Chorus’ Wire Waltz (see below).

I admit I’m a sucker for somber, melancholic music, and Megan Hickey of The Last Town Chorus serves it up on a cosmic-size palette of atmospheric lap-steel guitar and ethereal vocals.  The album’s elegiac quality is perfect for those lonely nights on the patio under the stars (without the noisy, upper-middle class white trash neighbors around).  There are echoes of Spiritualized’s spacey soundscape, but Hickey is mindful of the underlying folk-country essence.  Her voice reminds me of Belly’s Tanya Donelly, and her lap-steel guitar style reminds me of, well, no one – it’s utterly unique for that instrument (but perhaps similar to The Edge on electric guitar).

Wire Waltz, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

Modern Love, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).  Yes, it is indeed a David Bowie cover, but completely re-invented.

Caroline, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

As a bonus: Feed The Tree, Belly (from Star, 1993).  God, I can’t believe this was 16 years ago.
[Quote from Village Voice]

A few months ago I decided to clear out my increasingly unwieldy music wish list on Amazon.  So the plan was to either buy it, discount viagra advice delete it or move it to a new Maybe List, cialis buy sale which resulted in cutting down the primary list from 135 to 29 albums.

Examples of music I deleted from the list include Hank Williams’ Unreleased Recordings box set (I bought the abridged version on vinyl instead), Tom Waits’ Bone Machine (I love the man, but I just can’t do it), Magnetic Fields’ The Wayward Bus (ok, really, I don’t need to have everything they ever released).

Music I moved to the Maybe List include Harper Simon’ self-titled album (yes, that’s Paul’s son; I like it, but need to listen a few more times), Lambchop’s Oh (Ohio) (I don’t know why I don’t just pull the trigger on this one), The Grand Archives’ self-titled album (founded by former member of Band of Horses).

Music I bought include Josh Rouse’s Nashville (it’s a shame his music isn’t more prominent), Fountains of Wayne’s Utopia Parkway (why not!), Elliott Smith’s Figure 8 (I have no excuse for letting this linger for so long), The Last Town Chorus’ Wire Waltz (see below).

I admit I’m a sucker for somber, melancholic music, and Megan Hickey of The Last Town Chorus serves it up on a cosmic-size palette of atmospheric lap-steel guitar and ethereal vocals.  The album’s elegiac quality is perfect for those lonely nights on the patio under the stars (without the noisy, upper-middle class white trash neighbors around).  There are echoes of Spiritualized’s spacey soundscape, but Hickey is mindful of the underlying folk-country essence.  Her voice reminds me of Belly’s Tanya Donelly, and her lap-steel guitar style reminds me of, well, no one – it’s utterly unique for that instrument (but perhaps similar to The Edge on electric guitar).

Wire Waltz, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

Modern Love, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).  Yes, it is indeed a David Bowie cover, but completely re-invented.

Caroline, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

As a bonus: Feed The Tree, Belly (from Star, 1993).  God, I can’t believe this was 16 years ago.
[Quote from Village Voice]

A few months ago I decided to clear out my increasingly unwieldy music wish list on Amazon.  So the plan was to either buy it, viagra sales diagnosis delete it or move it to a new Maybe List, stuff which resulted in cutting down the primary list from 135 to 29 albums.

Examples of music I deleted from the list include Hank Williams’ Unreleased Recordings box set (I bought the abridged version on vinyl instead), cheap Tom Waits’ Bone Machine (I love the man, but I just can’t do it), Magnetic Fields’ The Wayward Bus (ok, really, I don’t need to have everything they ever released).

Music I moved to the Maybe List include Harper Simon’s self-titled album (yes, that’s Paul’s son; I like it, but need to listen a few more times), Lambchop’s Oh (Ohio) (I don’t know why I don’t just pull the trigger on this one), The Grand Archives’ self-titled album (founded by former member of Band of Horses).

Music I bought include Josh Rouse’s Nashville (it’s a shame his music isn’t more prominent), Fountains of Wayne’s Utopia Parkway (why not!), Elliott Smith’s Figure 8 (I have no excuse for letting this linger for so long), The Last Town Chorus’ Wire Waltz (see below).

I admit I’m a sucker for somber, melancholic music, and Megan Hickey of The Last Town Chorus serves it up on a cosmic-size palette of atmospheric lap-steel guitar and ethereal vocals.  The album’s elegiac quality is perfect for those lonely nights on the patio under the stars (without the noisy, upper-middle class white trash neighbors around).  There are echoes of Spiritualized’s spacey soundscape, but Hickey is mindful of the underlying folk-country essence.  Her voice reminds me of Belly’s Tanya Donelly, and her lap-steel guitar style reminds me of, well, no one – it’s utterly unique for that instrument (but perhaps similar to The Edge on electric guitar).

Wire Waltz, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

Modern Love, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).  Yes, it is indeed a David Bowie cover, but completely re-invented.

Caroline, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

As a bonus: Feed The Tree, Belly (from Star, 1993).  God, I can’t believe this was 16 years ago.
[Quote from Village Voice]

A few months ago I decided to clear out my increasingly unwieldy music wish list on Amazon.  So the plan was to either buy it, cialis generic nurse delete it or move it to a new Maybe List, discount cialis check which resulted in cutting down the primary list from 135 to 29 albums.

Examples of music I deleted from the list include Hank Williams’ Unreleased Recordings box set (I bought the abridged version on vinyl instead), buy viagra Tom Waits’ Bone Machine (I love the man, but I just can’t do it), Magnetic Fields’ The Wayward Bus (ok, really, I don’t need to have everything they ever released).

Music I moved to the Maybe List include Harper Simon’s self-titled album (yes, that’s Paul’s son; I like it, but need to listen a few more times), Lambchop’s Oh (Ohio) (I don’t know why I don’t just pull the trigger on this one), The Grand Archives’ self-titled album (founded by former member of Band of Horses).

Music I bought include Josh Rouse’s Nashville (it’s a shame his music isn’t more prominent), Fountains of Wayne’s Utopia Parkway (why not!), Elliott Smith’s Figure 8 (I have no excuse for letting this linger for so long), The Last Town Chorus’ Wire Waltz (see below).

I admit I’m a sucker for somber, melancholic music, and Megan Hickey of The Last Town Chorus serves it up on a cosmic-size palette of atmospheric lap-steel guitar and ethereal vocals.  The album’s elegiac quality is perfect for those lonely nights on the patio under the stars (without the noisy, upper-middle class white trash neighbors around).  There are echoes of Spiritualized’s spacey soundscape, but Hickey is mindful of the underlying folk-country essence.  Her voice reminds me of Belly’s Tanya Donelly, and her lap-steel guitar style reminds me of, well, no one – it’s utterly unique for that instrument (but perhaps similar to The Edge on electric guitar).

Wire Waltz, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

Modern Love, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).  Yes, it is indeed a David Bowie cover, but completely re-invented.

Caroline, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

As a bonus: Feed The Tree, Belly (from Star, 1993).  God, I can’t believe this was 16 years ago.
[Quote from Village Voice]

A few months ago I decided to clear out my increasingly unwieldy music wish list on Amazon.  So the plan was to either buy it, viagra buy generic delete it or move it to a new Maybe List, which resulted in cutting down the primary list from 135 to 29 albums.

Examples of music I deleted from the list include Hank Williams’ Unreleased Recordings box set (I bought the abridged version on vinyl instead), Tom Waits’ Bone Machine (I love the man, but I just can’t do it), Magnetic Fields’ The Wayward Bus (ok, really, I don’t need to have everything they ever released).

Music I moved to the Maybe List include Harper Simon’s self-titled album (yes, that’s Paul’s son; I like it, but need to listen a few more times), Lambchop’s Oh (Ohio) (I don’t know why I don’t just pull the trigger on this one), The Grand Archives’ self-titled album (founded by former member of Band of Horses).

Music I bought include Josh Rouse’s Nashville (it’s a shame his music isn’t more prominent), Fountains of Wayne’s Utopia Parkway (why not!), Elliott Smith’s Figure 8 (I have no excuse for letting this linger for so long), The Last Town Chorus’ Wire Waltz (see below).

I admit I’m a sucker for somber, melancholic music, and Megan Hickey of The Last Town Chorus serves it up on a cosmic-size palette of atmospheric lap-steel guitar and ethereal vocals.  The album’s elegiac quality is perfect for those lonely nights on the patio under the stars (without the noisy, upper-middle class white trash neighbors around).  There are echoes of Spiritualized’s spacey soundscape, but Hickey is mindful of the underlying folk-country essence.  Her voice reminds me of Belly’s Tanya Donelly, and her lap-steel guitar style reminds me of, well, no one – it’s utterly unique for that instrument (but perhaps similar to The Edge on electric guitar).

Wire Waltz, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

Modern Love, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).  Yes, it is indeed a David Bowie cover, but completely re-invented.

Caroline, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

As a bonus: Feed The Tree, Belly (from Star, 1993).  God, I can’t believe this was 16 years ago.
It was 1998.  Graduate school.  A tough week of exams.  Late night at a bar.  Came home and drank gallons of Gatorade and took preemptive aspirin.  Slid onto the couch and turned on TV.

I didn’t remember much else from that night, viagra generic ailment but two weeks later I received a package from Time Life, cialis and in it I found a box set titled, see “The Rock ‘N’ Roll Era”.  Spread out over 13 CDs, the box set cataloged some of the best known songs from the 50s and 60s.  At first I thought it was a belated Christmas gift from someone who knew that I grew up listening exclusively to oldies and classic rock, but there was no card, no name, no nothing. But like Scooby and Shaggy, it took about 25 minutes to solve the mystery – the same amount of time to read all the enclosed brochures (I looove brochures) and carefully cut away the shrink wrap on all 13 CDs using an x-acto knife (I was a little anal retentive back then).  As I read the brochures describing the content of the package and thumbed through the CDs, I began to realize what happened on the night two weeks prior – it was my first drunken-late-night-infomercial-purchase incident.  (Sigh – it was not my last.)

Of course, you must understand that this was not my fault. It’s true – I have a weakness, nay genetic disposition to infomercial purchases. My father had a disease, a disease that manifested only on Sundays between 11am-3:30pm while the TV was tuned to either WGN or TBS. He couldn’t help himself from buying completely useless, but well packaged, crap for years and years as we – the rest of the family – collectively clucked our tongues and shook our heads in shame. Don’t believe it was a disease? I have three words for you: Deli. Meat. Slicer. God, I hated ham for a long time afterwards.

So I apparently came home that night, watched the Time Life infomercial, proceeded to call the 800 number, gave my credit card information to buy the 13-CD set, AND somehow agreed to buy the Time Life The Rock ‘N’ Roll Era Still Rockin’ 5-CD extended collection – AND completely forgot about it.  One week later, I indeed did receive the extended collection increasing my stake in Time Life Music.  That’s right – I now had not 13, but 18 CDs from Time Life.

I’m somewhat (but not entirely) embarrassed to admit that there have been other infomercial purchases – inebriated or not.  No need to go into details of all the various devices and such, but I will say that for two weeks in 2000, I had the best beef jerky!  And ok, let me just make it clear that I ordered the Snuggie FOR Amanda because she always complains about being too cold!  Now…did I need to agree to accept the second one for free (and just pay the additional shipping and handling fee of $10)??  No…that one’s on me.  I admit it.

Anyway, here are a few selections from my vast Time Life Music collection.  The first is the original, followed by a great cover.

Sea of Love, Phil Phillips.
Sea Of Love, Cat Power (from The Covers Album, 2000).  Yes, yes, the Honeydrippers version is better known, but I love her voice.

Hey! Baby, Bruce Channel.
Hey! Baby, The Holmes Brothers (from Simple Truths, 2004).  The entire album is quite good.

Last Kiss, J. Frank Wilson & The Cavaliers.
Last Kiss, Pearl Jam (from rearviewmirrors, 2006).  This is probably at or near the top of the A-Cover-Of-A-60s-Song-That-Kids-Think-Is-An-Original List.  Stupid kids.

My Boyfriend’s Back, The Angels.
My Boyfriend’s Back, Raveonettes (from Pretty in Black, 2005).  Just enough fuzz to make the confection more palatable.
It was 1998.  Graduate school.  A tough week of exams.  Late night at a bar.  Came home and drank gallons of Gatorade and took a preemptive aspirin.  Slid onto the couch and turned on TV.

I didn’t remember much else from that night, viagra canada troche but two weeks later I received a package from Time Life, and in it I found a box set titled, “The Rock ‘N’ Roll Era”.  Spread out over 13 CDs, the box set cataloged some of the best known songs from the 50s and 60s.  At first I thought it was a belated Christmas gift from someone who knew that I grew up listening exclusively to oldies and classic rock, but there was no card, no name, no nothing. But like Scooby and Shaggy, it took about 25 minutes to solve the mystery – the same amount of time to read all the enclosed brochures (I looove brochures) and carefully cut away the shrink wrap on all 13 CDs using an x-acto knife (I was a little anal retentive back then).  As I read the brochures describing the content of the package and thumbed through the CDs, I began to realize what happened on the night two weeks prior – it was my first drunken-late-night-infomercial-purchase incident.  (Sigh – it was not my last.)

Of course, you must understand that this was not my fault. It’s true – I have a weakness, nay genetic disposition to infomercial purchases. My father had a disease, a disease that manifested only on Sundays between 11am-3:30pm while the TV was tuned to either WGN or TBS. He couldn’t help himself from buying completely useless, but well packaged, crap for years and years as we – the rest of the family – collectively clucked our tongues and shook our heads in shame. Don’t believe it was a disease? I have three words for you: Deli. Meat. Slicer. God, I hated ham for a long time afterwards.

So I apparently came home that night, watched the Time Life infomercial, proceeded to call the 800 number, gave my credit card information to buy the 13-CD set, AND somehow agreed to buy the Time Life The Rock ‘N’ Roll Era Still Rockin’ 5-CD extended collection – AND completely forgot about it all.  One week later, I indeed did receive the extended collection increasing my stake in Time Life Music.  That’s right – I now had not 13, but 18 CDs from Time Life.

I’m somewhat (but not entirely) embarrassed to admit that there have been other infomercial purchases – inebriated or not.  No need to go into details of all the various devices and such, but I will say that for two weeks in 2000, I had the best beef jerky!  And ok, let me just make it clear that I ordered the Snuggie FOR Amanda because she always complains about being too cold!  Now…did I need to agree to accept the second one for free (and just pay the additional shipping and handling fee of $10)??  No…that one’s on me.  I admit it.

Anyway, here are a few selections from my vast Time Life Music collection.  The first is the original, followed by a great cover.

Sea of Love, Phil Phillips.
Sea Of Love, Cat Power (from The Covers Album, 2000).  Yes, yes, the Honeydrippers version is better known, but I love her voice.

Hey! Baby, Bruce Channel.
Hey! Baby, The Holmes Brothers (from Simple Truths, 2004).  The entire album is quite good.

Last Kiss, J. Frank Wilson & The Cavaliers.
Last Kiss, Pearl Jam (from rearviewmirrors, 2006).  This is probably at or near the top of the A-Cover-Of-A-60s-Song-That-Kids-Think-Is-An-Original List.  Stupid kids.

My Boyfriend’s Back, The Angels.
My Boyfriend’s Back, Raveonettes (from Pretty in Black, 2005).  Just enough fuzz to make the confection more palatable.
It was 1998.  Graduate school.  A tough week of exams.  Late night at a bar.  Came home and drank gallons of Gatorade and took a preemptive aspirin.  Slid onto the couch and turned on TV.

I didn’t remember much else from that night, cialis generic ampoule but two weeks later I received a package from Time Life, viagra canada clinic and in it I found a box set titled, “The Rock ‘N’ Roll Era”.  Spread out over 13 CDs, the box set cataloged some of the best known songs from the 50s and 60s.  At first I thought it was a belated Christmas gift from someone who knew that I grew up listening exclusively to oldies and classic rock, but there was no card, no name, no nothing. But like Scooby and Shaggy, it took about 25 minutes to solve the mystery – the same amount of time to read all the enclosed brochures (I looove brochures) and carefully cut away the shrink wrap on all 13 CDs using an x-acto knife (I was a little anal retentive back then).  As I read the brochures describing the content of the package and thumbed through the CDs, I began to realize what happened on the night two weeks prior – it was my first drunken-late-night-infomercial-purchase incident.  (Sigh – it was not my last.)

Of course, you must understand that this was not my fault. It’s true – I have a weakness, nay genetic disposition to infomercial purchases. My father had a disease, a disease that manifested only on Sundays between 11am-3:30pm while the TV was tuned to either WGN or TBS. He couldn’t help himself from buying completely useless, but well packaged, crap for years and years as we – the rest of the family – collectively clucked our tongues and shook our heads in shame. Don’t believe it was a disease? I have three words for you: Deli. Meat. Slicer. God, I hated ham for a long time afterwards.

So I apparently came home that night, watched the Time Life infomercial, proceeded to call the 800 number, gave my credit card information to buy the 13-CD set, AND somehow agreed to buy the Time Life The Rock ‘N’ Roll Era Still Rockin’ 5-CD extended collection – AND completely forgot about it all.  One week later, I indeed did receive the extended collection increasing my stake in Time Life Music.  That’s right – I now had not 13, but 18 CDs from Time Life.

I’m somewhat (but not entirely) embarrassed to admit that there have been other infomercial purchases – inebriated or not.  No need to go into details of all the various devices and such, but I will say that for two weeks in 2000, I had the best beef jerky!  And ok, let me just make it clear that I ordered the Snuggie FOR Amanda because she always complains about being too cold!  Now…did I need to agree to accept the second one for “free” (and just pay the additional shipping and handling fee of $10)??  No…that one’s on me.  I admit it.

Anyway, here are a few selections from my vast Time Life Music collection.  The first is the original, followed by a great cover.

Sea of Love, Phil Phillips.
Sea Of Love, Cat Power (from The Covers Album, 2000).  Yes, yes, the Honeydrippers version is better known, but I love her voice.

Hey! Baby, Bruce Channel.
Hey! Baby, The Holmes Brothers (from Simple Truths, 2004).  The entire album is quite good.

Last Kiss, J. Frank Wilson & The Cavaliers.
Last Kiss, Pearl Jam (from rearviewmirrors, 2006).  This is probably at or near the top of the A-Cover-Of-A-60s-Song-That-Kids-Think-Is-An-Original List.  Stupid kids.

My Boyfriend’s Back, The Angels.
My Boyfriend’s Back, Raveonettes (from Pretty in Black, 2005).  Just enough fuzz to make the confection more palatable.
Quote from Village Voice]

A few months ago I decided to clear out my increasingly unwieldy music wish list on Amazon.  So the plan was to either buy it, viagra sales stuff delete it or move it to a new Maybe List, viagra sale sale which resulted in cutting down the primary list from 135 to 29 albums.

Examples of music I deleted from the list include Hank Williams’ Unreleased Recordings box set (I bought the abridged version on vinyl instead), Tom Waits’ Bone Machine (I love the man, but I just can’t do it), Magnetic Fields’ The Wayward Bus (ok, really, I don’t need to have everything they ever released).

Music I moved to the Maybe List include Harper Simon’ self-titled album (yes, that’s Paul’s son; I like it, but need to listen a few more times), Lambchop’ Oh (Ohio) (I don’t know why I don’t just pull the trigger on this one), The Grand Archives’ self-titled album (founded by former member of Band of Horses).

Music I bought include Josh Rouse’s Nashville (it’s a shame his music isn’t more prominent), Fountains of Wayne’s Utopia Parkway (why not!), Elliott Smith’s Figure 8 (I have no excuse for letting this linger for so long), The Last Town Chorus’ Wire Waltz (see below).

I admit I’m a sucker for somber, melancholic music, and Megan Hickey of The Last Town Chorus serves it up on a cosmic-size palette of atmospheric lap-steel guitar and ethereal vocals.  The album’s elegiac quality is perfect for those lonely nights on the patio under the stars (without the noisy, upper-middle class white trash neighbors around).  There are echoes of Spiritualized’s spacey soundscape, but Hickey is mindful of the underlying folk-country essence.  Her voice reminds me of Belly’s Tanya Donelly, and her lap-steel guitar style reminds me of, well, no one – it’s utterly unique for that instrument.

Wire Waltz, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

Modern Love, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).  Yes, it is indeed a David Bowie cover, but completely re-invented.

Caroline, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

As a bonus: Feed The Tree, Belly (from Star, 1993).  God, I can’t believe this was 16 years ago.
[Quote from Village Voice]

A few months ago I decided to clear out my increasingly unwieldy music wish list on Amazon.  So the plan was to either buy it, best viagra buy delete it or move it to a new Maybe List, cialis sales recipe which resulted in cutting down the primary list from 135 to 29 albums.

Examples of music I deleted from the list include Hank Williams’ Unreleased Recordings box set (I bought the abridged version on vinyl instead), treat Tom Waits’ Bone Machine (I love the man, but I just can’t do it), Magnetic Fields’ The Wayward Bus (ok, really, I don’t need to have everything they ever released).

Music I moved to the Maybe List include Harper Simon’ self-titled album (yes, that’s Paul’s son; I like it, but need to listen a few more times), Lambchop’s Oh (Ohio) (I don’t know why I don’t just pull the trigger on this one), The Grand Archives’ self-titled album (founded by former member of Band of Horses).

Music I bought include Josh Rouse’s Nashville (it’s a shame his music isn’t more prominent), Fountains of Wayne’s Utopia Parkway (why not!), Elliott Smith’s Figure 8 (I have no excuse for letting this linger for so long), The Last Town Chorus’ Wire Waltz (see below).

I admit I’m a sucker for somber, melancholic music, and Megan Hickey of The Last Town Chorus serves it up on a cosmic-size palette of atmospheric lap-steel guitar and ethereal vocals.  The album’s elegiac quality is perfect for those lonely nights on the patio under the stars (without the noisy, upper-middle class white trash neighbors around).  There are echoes of Spiritualized’s spacey soundscape, but Hickey is mindful of the underlying folk-country essence.  Her voice reminds me of Belly’s Tanya Donelly, and her lap-steel guitar style reminds me of, well, no one – it’s utterly unique for that instrument (but perhaps similar to The Edge on electric guitar).

Wire Waltz, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

Modern Love, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).  Yes, it is indeed a David Bowie cover, but completely re-invented.

Caroline, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

As a bonus: Feed The Tree, Belly (from Star, 1993).  God, I can’t believe this was 16 years ago.
[Quote from Village Voice]

A few months ago I decided to clear out my increasingly unwieldy music wish list on Amazon.  So the plan was to either buy it, viagra sale diagnosis delete it or move it to a new Maybe List, cialis which resulted in cutting down the primary list from 135 to 29 albums.

Examples of music I deleted from the list include Hank Williams’ Unreleased Recordings box set (I bought the abridged version on vinyl instead), Tom Waits’ Bone Machine (I love the man, but I just can’t do it), Magnetic Fields’ The Wayward Bus (ok, really, I don’t need to have everything they ever released).

Music I moved to the Maybe List include Harper Simon’ self-titled album (yes, that’s Paul’s son; I like it, but need to listen a few more times), Lambchop’s Oh (Ohio) (I don’t know why I don’t just pull the trigger on this one), The Grand Archives’ self-titled album (founded by former member of Band of Horses).

Music I bought include Josh Rouse’s Nashville (it’s a shame his music isn’t more prominent), Fountains of Wayne’s Utopia Parkway (why not!), Elliott Smith’s Figure 8 (I have no excuse for letting this linger for so long), The Last Town Chorus’ Wire Waltz (see below).

I admit I’m a sucker for somber, melancholic music, and Megan Hickey of The Last Town Chorus serves it up on a cosmic-size palette of atmospheric lap-steel guitar and ethereal vocals.  The album’s elegiac quality is perfect for those lonely nights on the patio under the stars (without the noisy, upper-middle class white trash neighbors around).  There are echoes of Spiritualized’s spacey soundscape, but Hickey is mindful of the underlying folk-country essence.  Her voice reminds me of Belly’s Tanya Donelly, and her lap-steel guitar style reminds me of, well, no one – it’s utterly unique for that instrument (but perhaps similar to The Edge on electric guitar).

Wire Waltz, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

Modern Love, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).  Yes, it is indeed a David Bowie cover, but completely re-invented.

Caroline, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

As a bonus: Feed The Tree, Belly (from Star, 1993).  God, I can’t believe this was 16 years ago.
[Quote from Village Voice]

A few months ago I decided to clear out my increasingly unwieldy music wish list on Amazon.  So the plan was to either buy it, viagra generic generic delete it or move it to a new Maybe List, buy viagra which resulted in cutting down the primary list from 135 to 29 albums.

Examples of music I deleted from the list include Hank Williams’ Unreleased Recordings box set (I bought the abridged version on vinyl instead), Tom Waits’ Bone Machine (I love the man, but I just can’t do it), Magnetic Fields’ The Wayward Bus (ok, really, I don’t need to have everything they ever released).

Music I moved to the Maybe List include Harper Simon’ self-titled album (yes, that’s Paul’s son; I like it, but need to listen a few more times), Lambchop’s Oh (Ohio) (I don’t know why I don’t just pull the trigger on this one), The Grand Archives’ self-titled album (founded by former member of Band of Horses).

Music I bought include Josh Rouse’s Nashville (it’s a shame his music isn’t more prominent), Fountains of Wayne’s Utopia Parkway (why not!), Elliott Smith’s Figure 8 (I have no excuse for letting this linger for so long), The Last Town Chorus’ Wire Waltz (see below).

I admit I’m a sucker for somber, melancholic music, and Megan Hickey of The Last Town Chorus serves it up on a cosmic-size palette of atmospheric lap-steel guitar and ethereal vocals.  The album’s elegiac quality is perfect for those lonely nights on the patio under the stars (without the noisy, upper-middle class white trash neighbors around).  There are echoes of Spiritualized’s spacey soundscape, but Hickey is mindful of the underlying folk-country essence.  Her voice reminds me of Belly’s Tanya Donelly, and her lap-steel guitar style reminds me of, well, no one – it’s utterly unique for that instrument (but perhaps similar to The Edge on electric guitar).

Wire Waltz, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

Modern Love, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).  Yes, it is indeed a David Bowie cover, but completely re-invented.

Caroline, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

As a bonus: Feed The Tree, Belly (from Star, 1993).  God, I can’t believe this was 16 years ago.
[Quote from Village Voice]

A few months ago I decided to clear out my increasingly unwieldy music wish list on Amazon.  So the plan was to either buy it, discount viagra advice delete it or move it to a new Maybe List, cialis buy sale which resulted in cutting down the primary list from 135 to 29 albums.

Examples of music I deleted from the list include Hank Williams’ Unreleased Recordings box set (I bought the abridged version on vinyl instead), Tom Waits’ Bone Machine (I love the man, but I just can’t do it), Magnetic Fields’ The Wayward Bus (ok, really, I don’t need to have everything they ever released).

Music I moved to the Maybe List include Harper Simon’ self-titled album (yes, that’s Paul’s son; I like it, but need to listen a few more times), Lambchop’s Oh (Ohio) (I don’t know why I don’t just pull the trigger on this one), The Grand Archives’ self-titled album (founded by former member of Band of Horses).

Music I bought include Josh Rouse’s Nashville (it’s a shame his music isn’t more prominent), Fountains of Wayne’s Utopia Parkway (why not!), Elliott Smith’s Figure 8 (I have no excuse for letting this linger for so long), The Last Town Chorus’ Wire Waltz (see below).

I admit I’m a sucker for somber, melancholic music, and Megan Hickey of The Last Town Chorus serves it up on a cosmic-size palette of atmospheric lap-steel guitar and ethereal vocals.  The album’s elegiac quality is perfect for those lonely nights on the patio under the stars (without the noisy, upper-middle class white trash neighbors around).  There are echoes of Spiritualized’s spacey soundscape, but Hickey is mindful of the underlying folk-country essence.  Her voice reminds me of Belly’s Tanya Donelly, and her lap-steel guitar style reminds me of, well, no one – it’s utterly unique for that instrument (but perhaps similar to The Edge on electric guitar).

Wire Waltz, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

Modern Love, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).  Yes, it is indeed a David Bowie cover, but completely re-invented.

Caroline, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

As a bonus: Feed The Tree, Belly (from Star, 1993).  God, I can’t believe this was 16 years ago.
[Quote from Village Voice]

A few months ago I decided to clear out my increasingly unwieldy music wish list on Amazon.  So the plan was to either buy it, viagra sales diagnosis delete it or move it to a new Maybe List, stuff which resulted in cutting down the primary list from 135 to 29 albums.

Examples of music I deleted from the list include Hank Williams’ Unreleased Recordings box set (I bought the abridged version on vinyl instead), cheap Tom Waits’ Bone Machine (I love the man, but I just can’t do it), Magnetic Fields’ The Wayward Bus (ok, really, I don’t need to have everything they ever released).

Music I moved to the Maybe List include Harper Simon’s self-titled album (yes, that’s Paul’s son; I like it, but need to listen a few more times), Lambchop’s Oh (Ohio) (I don’t know why I don’t just pull the trigger on this one), The Grand Archives’ self-titled album (founded by former member of Band of Horses).

Music I bought include Josh Rouse’s Nashville (it’s a shame his music isn’t more prominent), Fountains of Wayne’s Utopia Parkway (why not!), Elliott Smith’s Figure 8 (I have no excuse for letting this linger for so long), The Last Town Chorus’ Wire Waltz (see below).

I admit I’m a sucker for somber, melancholic music, and Megan Hickey of The Last Town Chorus serves it up on a cosmic-size palette of atmospheric lap-steel guitar and ethereal vocals.  The album’s elegiac quality is perfect for those lonely nights on the patio under the stars (without the noisy, upper-middle class white trash neighbors around).  There are echoes of Spiritualized’s spacey soundscape, but Hickey is mindful of the underlying folk-country essence.  Her voice reminds me of Belly’s Tanya Donelly, and her lap-steel guitar style reminds me of, well, no one – it’s utterly unique for that instrument (but perhaps similar to The Edge on electric guitar).

Wire Waltz, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

Modern Love, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).  Yes, it is indeed a David Bowie cover, but completely re-invented.

Caroline, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

As a bonus: Feed The Tree, Belly (from Star, 1993).  God, I can’t believe this was 16 years ago.
[Quote from Village Voice]

A few months ago I decided to clear out my increasingly unwieldy music wish list on Amazon.  So the plan was to either buy it, cialis generic nurse delete it or move it to a new Maybe List, discount cialis check which resulted in cutting down the primary list from 135 to 29 albums.

Examples of music I deleted from the list include Hank Williams’ Unreleased Recordings box set (I bought the abridged version on vinyl instead), buy viagra Tom Waits’ Bone Machine (I love the man, but I just can’t do it), Magnetic Fields’ The Wayward Bus (ok, really, I don’t need to have everything they ever released).

Music I moved to the Maybe List include Harper Simon’s self-titled album (yes, that’s Paul’s son; I like it, but need to listen a few more times), Lambchop’s Oh (Ohio) (I don’t know why I don’t just pull the trigger on this one), The Grand Archives’ self-titled album (founded by former member of Band of Horses).

Music I bought include Josh Rouse’s Nashville (it’s a shame his music isn’t more prominent), Fountains of Wayne’s Utopia Parkway (why not!), Elliott Smith’s Figure 8 (I have no excuse for letting this linger for so long), The Last Town Chorus’ Wire Waltz (see below).

I admit I’m a sucker for somber, melancholic music, and Megan Hickey of The Last Town Chorus serves it up on a cosmic-size palette of atmospheric lap-steel guitar and ethereal vocals.  The album’s elegiac quality is perfect for those lonely nights on the patio under the stars (without the noisy, upper-middle class white trash neighbors around).  There are echoes of Spiritualized’s spacey soundscape, but Hickey is mindful of the underlying folk-country essence.  Her voice reminds me of Belly’s Tanya Donelly, and her lap-steel guitar style reminds me of, well, no one – it’s utterly unique for that instrument (but perhaps similar to The Edge on electric guitar).

Wire Waltz, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

Modern Love, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).  Yes, it is indeed a David Bowie cover, but completely re-invented.

Caroline, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

As a bonus: Feed The Tree, Belly (from Star, 1993).  God, I can’t believe this was 16 years ago.
[Quote from Village Voice]

A few months ago I decided to clear out my increasingly unwieldy music wish list on Amazon.  So the plan was to either buy it, viagra buy generic delete it or move it to a new Maybe List, which resulted in cutting down the primary list from 135 to 29 albums.

Examples of music I deleted from the list include Hank Williams’ Unreleased Recordings box set (I bought the abridged version on vinyl instead), Tom Waits’ Bone Machine (I love the man, but I just can’t do it), Magnetic Fields’ The Wayward Bus (ok, really, I don’t need to have everything they ever released).

Music I moved to the Maybe List include Harper Simon’s self-titled album (yes, that’s Paul’s son; I like it, but need to listen a few more times), Lambchop’s Oh (Ohio) (I don’t know why I don’t just pull the trigger on this one), The Grand Archives’ self-titled album (founded by former member of Band of Horses).

Music I bought include Josh Rouse’s Nashville (it’s a shame his music isn’t more prominent), Fountains of Wayne’s Utopia Parkway (why not!), Elliott Smith’s Figure 8 (I have no excuse for letting this linger for so long), The Last Town Chorus’ Wire Waltz (see below).

I admit I’m a sucker for somber, melancholic music, and Megan Hickey of The Last Town Chorus serves it up on a cosmic-size palette of atmospheric lap-steel guitar and ethereal vocals.  The album’s elegiac quality is perfect for those lonely nights on the patio under the stars (without the noisy, upper-middle class white trash neighbors around).  There are echoes of Spiritualized’s spacey soundscape, but Hickey is mindful of the underlying folk-country essence.  Her voice reminds me of Belly’s Tanya Donelly, and her lap-steel guitar style reminds me of, well, no one – it’s utterly unique for that instrument (but perhaps similar to The Edge on electric guitar).

Wire Waltz, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

Modern Love, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).  Yes, it is indeed a David Bowie cover, but completely re-invented.

Caroline, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

As a bonus: Feed The Tree, Belly (from Star, 1993).  God, I can’t believe this was 16 years ago.
It was 1998.  Graduate school.  A tough week of exams.  Late night at a bar.  Came home and drank gallons of Gatorade and took preemptive aspirin.  Slid onto the couch and turned on TV.

I didn’t remember much else from that night, viagra generic ailment but two weeks later I received a package from Time Life, cialis and in it I found a box set titled, see “The Rock ‘N’ Roll Era”.  Spread out over 13 CDs, the box set cataloged some of the best known songs from the 50s and 60s.  At first I thought it was a belated Christmas gift from someone who knew that I grew up listening exclusively to oldies and classic rock, but there was no card, no name, no nothing. But like Scooby and Shaggy, it took about 25 minutes to solve the mystery – the same amount of time to read all the enclosed brochures (I looove brochures) and carefully cut away the shrink wrap on all 13 CDs using an x-acto knife (I was a little anal retentive back then).  As I read the brochures describing the content of the package and thumbed through the CDs, I began to realize what happened on the night two weeks prior – it was my first drunken-late-night-infomercial-purchase incident.  (Sigh – it was not my last.)

Of course, you must understand that this was not my fault. It’s true – I have a weakness, nay genetic disposition to infomercial purchases. My father had a disease, a disease that manifested only on Sundays between 11am-3:30pm while the TV was tuned to either WGN or TBS. He couldn’t help himself from buying completely useless, but well packaged, crap for years and years as we – the rest of the family – collectively clucked our tongues and shook our heads in shame. Don’t believe it was a disease? I have three words for you: Deli. Meat. Slicer. God, I hated ham for a long time afterwards.

So I apparently came home that night, watched the Time Life infomercial, proceeded to call the 800 number, gave my credit card information to buy the 13-CD set, AND somehow agreed to buy the Time Life The Rock ‘N’ Roll Era Still Rockin’ 5-CD extended collection – AND completely forgot about it.  One week later, I indeed did receive the extended collection increasing my stake in Time Life Music.  That’s right – I now had not 13, but 18 CDs from Time Life.

I’m somewhat (but not entirely) embarrassed to admit that there have been other infomercial purchases – inebriated or not.  No need to go into details of all the various devices and such, but I will say that for two weeks in 2000, I had the best beef jerky!  And ok, let me just make it clear that I ordered the Snuggie FOR Amanda because she always complains about being too cold!  Now…did I need to agree to accept the second one for free (and just pay the additional shipping and handling fee of $10)??  No…that one’s on me.  I admit it.

Anyway, here are a few selections from my vast Time Life Music collection.  The first is the original, followed by a great cover.

Sea of Love, Phil Phillips.
Sea Of Love, Cat Power (from The Covers Album, 2000).  Yes, yes, the Honeydrippers version is better known, but I love her voice.

Hey! Baby, Bruce Channel.
Hey! Baby, The Holmes Brothers (from Simple Truths, 2004).  The entire album is quite good.

Last Kiss, J. Frank Wilson & The Cavaliers.
Last Kiss, Pearl Jam (from rearviewmirrors, 2006).  This is probably at or near the top of the A-Cover-Of-A-60s-Song-That-Kids-Think-Is-An-Original List.  Stupid kids.

My Boyfriend’s Back, The Angels.
My Boyfriend’s Back, Raveonettes (from Pretty in Black, 2005).  Just enough fuzz to make the confection more palatable.
It was 1998.  Graduate school.  A tough week of exams.  Late night at a bar.  Came home and drank gallons of Gatorade and took a preemptive aspirin.  Slid onto the couch and turned on TV.

I didn’t remember much else from that night, viagra canada troche but two weeks later I received a package from Time Life, and in it I found a box set titled, “The Rock ‘N’ Roll Era”.  Spread out over 13 CDs, the box set cataloged some of the best known songs from the 50s and 60s.  At first I thought it was a belated Christmas gift from someone who knew that I grew up listening exclusively to oldies and classic rock, but there was no card, no name, no nothing. But like Scooby and Shaggy, it took about 25 minutes to solve the mystery – the same amount of time to read all the enclosed brochures (I looove brochures) and carefully cut away the shrink wrap on all 13 CDs using an x-acto knife (I was a little anal retentive back then).  As I read the brochures describing the content of the package and thumbed through the CDs, I began to realize what happened on the night two weeks prior – it was my first drunken-late-night-infomercial-purchase incident.  (Sigh – it was not my last.)

Of course, you must understand that this was not my fault. It’s true – I have a weakness, nay genetic disposition to infomercial purchases. My father had a disease, a disease that manifested only on Sundays between 11am-3:30pm while the TV was tuned to either WGN or TBS. He couldn’t help himself from buying completely useless, but well packaged, crap for years and years as we – the rest of the family – collectively clucked our tongues and shook our heads in shame. Don’t believe it was a disease? I have three words for you: Deli. Meat. Slicer. God, I hated ham for a long time afterwards.

So I apparently came home that night, watched the Time Life infomercial, proceeded to call the 800 number, gave my credit card information to buy the 13-CD set, AND somehow agreed to buy the Time Life The Rock ‘N’ Roll Era Still Rockin’ 5-CD extended collection – AND completely forgot about it all.  One week later, I indeed did receive the extended collection increasing my stake in Time Life Music.  That’s right – I now had not 13, but 18 CDs from Time Life.

I’m somewhat (but not entirely) embarrassed to admit that there have been other infomercial purchases – inebriated or not.  No need to go into details of all the various devices and such, but I will say that for two weeks in 2000, I had the best beef jerky!  And ok, let me just make it clear that I ordered the Snuggie FOR Amanda because she always complains about being too cold!  Now…did I need to agree to accept the second one for free (and just pay the additional shipping and handling fee of $10)??  No…that one’s on me.  I admit it.

Anyway, here are a few selections from my vast Time Life Music collection.  The first is the original, followed by a great cover.

Sea of Love, Phil Phillips.
Sea Of Love, Cat Power (from The Covers Album, 2000).  Yes, yes, the Honeydrippers version is better known, but I love her voice.

Hey! Baby, Bruce Channel.
Hey! Baby, The Holmes Brothers (from Simple Truths, 2004).  The entire album is quite good.

Last Kiss, J. Frank Wilson & The Cavaliers.
Last Kiss, Pearl Jam (from rearviewmirrors, 2006).  This is probably at or near the top of the A-Cover-Of-A-60s-Song-That-Kids-Think-Is-An-Original List.  Stupid kids.

My Boyfriend’s Back, The Angels.
My Boyfriend’s Back, Raveonettes (from Pretty in Black, 2005).  Just enough fuzz to make the confection more palatable.
It was 1998.  Graduate school.  A tough week of exams.  Late night at a bar.  Came home and drank gallons of Gatorade and took a preemptive aspirin.  Slid onto the couch and turned on TV.

I didn’t remember much else from that night, cialis generic ampoule but two weeks later I received a package from Time Life, viagra canada clinic and in it I found a box set titled, “The Rock ‘N’ Roll Era”.  Spread out over 13 CDs, the box set cataloged some of the best known songs from the 50s and 60s.  At first I thought it was a belated Christmas gift from someone who knew that I grew up listening exclusively to oldies and classic rock, but there was no card, no name, no nothing. But like Scooby and Shaggy, it took about 25 minutes to solve the mystery – the same amount of time to read all the enclosed brochures (I looove brochures) and carefully cut away the shrink wrap on all 13 CDs using an x-acto knife (I was a little anal retentive back then).  As I read the brochures describing the content of the package and thumbed through the CDs, I began to realize what happened on the night two weeks prior – it was my first drunken-late-night-infomercial-purchase incident.  (Sigh – it was not my last.)

Of course, you must understand that this was not my fault. It’s true – I have a weakness, nay genetic disposition to infomercial purchases. My father had a disease, a disease that manifested only on Sundays between 11am-3:30pm while the TV was tuned to either WGN or TBS. He couldn’t help himself from buying completely useless, but well packaged, crap for years and years as we – the rest of the family – collectively clucked our tongues and shook our heads in shame. Don’t believe it was a disease? I have three words for you: Deli. Meat. Slicer. God, I hated ham for a long time afterwards.

So I apparently came home that night, watched the Time Life infomercial, proceeded to call the 800 number, gave my credit card information to buy the 13-CD set, AND somehow agreed to buy the Time Life The Rock ‘N’ Roll Era Still Rockin’ 5-CD extended collection – AND completely forgot about it all.  One week later, I indeed did receive the extended collection increasing my stake in Time Life Music.  That’s right – I now had not 13, but 18 CDs from Time Life.

I’m somewhat (but not entirely) embarrassed to admit that there have been other infomercial purchases – inebriated or not.  No need to go into details of all the various devices and such, but I will say that for two weeks in 2000, I had the best beef jerky!  And ok, let me just make it clear that I ordered the Snuggie FOR Amanda because she always complains about being too cold!  Now…did I need to agree to accept the second one for “free” (and just pay the additional shipping and handling fee of $10)??  No…that one’s on me.  I admit it.

Anyway, here are a few selections from my vast Time Life Music collection.  The first is the original, followed by a great cover.

Sea of Love, Phil Phillips.
Sea Of Love, Cat Power (from The Covers Album, 2000).  Yes, yes, the Honeydrippers version is better known, but I love her voice.

Hey! Baby, Bruce Channel.
Hey! Baby, The Holmes Brothers (from Simple Truths, 2004).  The entire album is quite good.

Last Kiss, J. Frank Wilson & The Cavaliers.
Last Kiss, Pearl Jam (from rearviewmirrors, 2006).  This is probably at or near the top of the A-Cover-Of-A-60s-Song-That-Kids-Think-Is-An-Original List.  Stupid kids.

My Boyfriend’s Back, The Angels.
My Boyfriend’s Back, Raveonettes (from Pretty in Black, 2005).  Just enough fuzz to make the confection more palatable.
[Quote from Village Voice]

A few months ago I decided to clear out my increasingly unwieldy music wish list on Amazon.  So the plan was to either buy it, cialis healing delete it or move it to a new Maybe List, cialis sale unhealthy which resulted in cutting down the primary list from 135 to 29 albums.

Examples of music I deleted from the list include Hank Williams’ Unreleased Recordings box set (I bought the abridged version on vinyl instead), viagra Tom Waits’ Bone Machine (I love the man, but I just can’t do it), Magnetic Fields’ The Wayward Bus (ok, really, I don’t need to have everything they ever released).

Music I moved to the Maybe List include Harper Simon’s self-titled album (yes, that’s Paul’s son; I like it, but need to listen a few more times), Lambchop’s Oh (Ohio) (I don’t know why I don’t just pull the trigger on this one), The Grand Archives’ self-titled album (founded by former member of Band of Horses).

Music I bought include Josh Rouse’s Nashville (it’s a shame his music isn’t more prominent), Fountains of Wayne’s Utopia Parkway (why not!), Elliott Smith’s Figure 8 (I have no excuse for letting this linger for so long), The Last Town Chorus’ Wire Waltz (see below).

I admit I’m a sucker for somber, melancholic music, and Megan Hickey of The Last Town Chorus serves it up on a cosmic-size palette of atmospheric lap-steel guitar and ethereal vocals.  The album’s elegiac quality is perfect for those lonely nights on the patio under the stars (without the noisy, upper-middle class white trash neighbors around).  There are echoes of Spiritualized’s spacey soundscape, but Hickey is mindful of the underlying folk-country essence.  Her voice reminds me of Belly’s Tanya Donelly, and her lap-steel guitar style reminds me of, well, no one – it’s utterly unique for that instrument (but perhaps similar to The Edge on electric guitar).

Wire Waltz, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

Modern Love, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).  Yes, it is indeed a David Bowie cover, but completely re-invented.

Caroline, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

As a bonus: Feed The Tree, Belly (from Star, 1993).  God, I can’t believe this was 16 years ago.
Quote from Village Voice]

A few months ago I decided to clear out my increasingly unwieldy music wish list on Amazon.  So the plan was to either buy it, viagra sales stuff delete it or move it to a new Maybe List, viagra sale sale which resulted in cutting down the primary list from 135 to 29 albums.

Examples of music I deleted from the list include Hank Williams’ Unreleased Recordings box set (I bought the abridged version on vinyl instead), Tom Waits’ Bone Machine (I love the man, but I just can’t do it), Magnetic Fields’ The Wayward Bus (ok, really, I don’t need to have everything they ever released).

Music I moved to the Maybe List include Harper Simon’ self-titled album (yes, that’s Paul’s son; I like it, but need to listen a few more times), Lambchop’ Oh (Ohio) (I don’t know why I don’t just pull the trigger on this one), The Grand Archives’ self-titled album (founded by former member of Band of Horses).

Music I bought include Josh Rouse’s Nashville (it’s a shame his music isn’t more prominent), Fountains of Wayne’s Utopia Parkway (why not!), Elliott Smith’s Figure 8 (I have no excuse for letting this linger for so long), The Last Town Chorus’ Wire Waltz (see below).

I admit I’m a sucker for somber, melancholic music, and Megan Hickey of The Last Town Chorus serves it up on a cosmic-size palette of atmospheric lap-steel guitar and ethereal vocals.  The album’s elegiac quality is perfect for those lonely nights on the patio under the stars (without the noisy, upper-middle class white trash neighbors around).  There are echoes of Spiritualized’s spacey soundscape, but Hickey is mindful of the underlying folk-country essence.  Her voice reminds me of Belly’s Tanya Donelly, and her lap-steel guitar style reminds me of, well, no one – it’s utterly unique for that instrument.

Wire Waltz, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

Modern Love, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).  Yes, it is indeed a David Bowie cover, but completely re-invented.

Caroline, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

As a bonus: Feed The Tree, Belly (from Star, 1993).  God, I can’t believe this was 16 years ago.
[Quote from Village Voice]

A few months ago I decided to clear out my increasingly unwieldy music wish list on Amazon.  So the plan was to either buy it, best viagra buy delete it or move it to a new Maybe List, cialis sales recipe which resulted in cutting down the primary list from 135 to 29 albums.

Examples of music I deleted from the list include Hank Williams’ Unreleased Recordings box set (I bought the abridged version on vinyl instead), treat Tom Waits’ Bone Machine (I love the man, but I just can’t do it), Magnetic Fields’ The Wayward Bus (ok, really, I don’t need to have everything they ever released).

Music I moved to the Maybe List include Harper Simon’ self-titled album (yes, that’s Paul’s son; I like it, but need to listen a few more times), Lambchop’s Oh (Ohio) (I don’t know why I don’t just pull the trigger on this one), The Grand Archives’ self-titled album (founded by former member of Band of Horses).

Music I bought include Josh Rouse’s Nashville (it’s a shame his music isn’t more prominent), Fountains of Wayne’s Utopia Parkway (why not!), Elliott Smith’s Figure 8 (I have no excuse for letting this linger for so long), The Last Town Chorus’ Wire Waltz (see below).

I admit I’m a sucker for somber, melancholic music, and Megan Hickey of The Last Town Chorus serves it up on a cosmic-size palette of atmospheric lap-steel guitar and ethereal vocals.  The album’s elegiac quality is perfect for those lonely nights on the patio under the stars (without the noisy, upper-middle class white trash neighbors around).  There are echoes of Spiritualized’s spacey soundscape, but Hickey is mindful of the underlying folk-country essence.  Her voice reminds me of Belly’s Tanya Donelly, and her lap-steel guitar style reminds me of, well, no one – it’s utterly unique for that instrument (but perhaps similar to The Edge on electric guitar).

Wire Waltz, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

Modern Love, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).  Yes, it is indeed a David Bowie cover, but completely re-invented.

Caroline, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

As a bonus: Feed The Tree, Belly (from Star, 1993).  God, I can’t believe this was 16 years ago.
[Quote from Village Voice]

A few months ago I decided to clear out my increasingly unwieldy music wish list on Amazon.  So the plan was to either buy it, viagra sale diagnosis delete it or move it to a new Maybe List, cialis which resulted in cutting down the primary list from 135 to 29 albums.

Examples of music I deleted from the list include Hank Williams’ Unreleased Recordings box set (I bought the abridged version on vinyl instead), Tom Waits’ Bone Machine (I love the man, but I just can’t do it), Magnetic Fields’ The Wayward Bus (ok, really, I don’t need to have everything they ever released).

Music I moved to the Maybe List include Harper Simon’ self-titled album (yes, that’s Paul’s son; I like it, but need to listen a few more times), Lambchop’s Oh (Ohio) (I don’t know why I don’t just pull the trigger on this one), The Grand Archives’ self-titled album (founded by former member of Band of Horses).

Music I bought include Josh Rouse’s Nashville (it’s a shame his music isn’t more prominent), Fountains of Wayne’s Utopia Parkway (why not!), Elliott Smith’s Figure 8 (I have no excuse for letting this linger for so long), The Last Town Chorus’ Wire Waltz (see below).

I admit I’m a sucker for somber, melancholic music, and Megan Hickey of The Last Town Chorus serves it up on a cosmic-size palette of atmospheric lap-steel guitar and ethereal vocals.  The album’s elegiac quality is perfect for those lonely nights on the patio under the stars (without the noisy, upper-middle class white trash neighbors around).  There are echoes of Spiritualized’s spacey soundscape, but Hickey is mindful of the underlying folk-country essence.  Her voice reminds me of Belly’s Tanya Donelly, and her lap-steel guitar style reminds me of, well, no one – it’s utterly unique for that instrument (but perhaps similar to The Edge on electric guitar).

Wire Waltz, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

Modern Love, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).  Yes, it is indeed a David Bowie cover, but completely re-invented.

Caroline, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

As a bonus: Feed The Tree, Belly (from Star, 1993).  God, I can’t believe this was 16 years ago.
[Quote from Village Voice]

A few months ago I decided to clear out my increasingly unwieldy music wish list on Amazon.  So the plan was to either buy it, viagra generic generic delete it or move it to a new Maybe List, buy viagra which resulted in cutting down the primary list from 135 to 29 albums.

Examples of music I deleted from the list include Hank Williams’ Unreleased Recordings box set (I bought the abridged version on vinyl instead), Tom Waits’ Bone Machine (I love the man, but I just can’t do it), Magnetic Fields’ The Wayward Bus (ok, really, I don’t need to have everything they ever released).

Music I moved to the Maybe List include Harper Simon’ self-titled album (yes, that’s Paul’s son; I like it, but need to listen a few more times), Lambchop’s Oh (Ohio) (I don’t know why I don’t just pull the trigger on this one), The Grand Archives’ self-titled album (founded by former member of Band of Horses).

Music I bought include Josh Rouse’s Nashville (it’s a shame his music isn’t more prominent), Fountains of Wayne’s Utopia Parkway (why not!), Elliott Smith’s Figure 8 (I have no excuse for letting this linger for so long), The Last Town Chorus’ Wire Waltz (see below).

I admit I’m a sucker for somber, melancholic music, and Megan Hickey of The Last Town Chorus serves it up on a cosmic-size palette of atmospheric lap-steel guitar and ethereal vocals.  The album’s elegiac quality is perfect for those lonely nights on the patio under the stars (without the noisy, upper-middle class white trash neighbors around).  There are echoes of Spiritualized’s spacey soundscape, but Hickey is mindful of the underlying folk-country essence.  Her voice reminds me of Belly’s Tanya Donelly, and her lap-steel guitar style reminds me of, well, no one – it’s utterly unique for that instrument (but perhaps similar to The Edge on electric guitar).

Wire Waltz, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

Modern Love, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).  Yes, it is indeed a David Bowie cover, but completely re-invented.

Caroline, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

As a bonus: Feed The Tree, Belly (from Star, 1993).  God, I can’t believe this was 16 years ago.
[Quote from Village Voice]

A few months ago I decided to clear out my increasingly unwieldy music wish list on Amazon.  So the plan was to either buy it, discount viagra advice delete it or move it to a new Maybe List, cialis buy sale which resulted in cutting down the primary list from 135 to 29 albums.

Examples of music I deleted from the list include Hank Williams’ Unreleased Recordings box set (I bought the abridged version on vinyl instead), Tom Waits’ Bone Machine (I love the man, but I just can’t do it), Magnetic Fields’ The Wayward Bus (ok, really, I don’t need to have everything they ever released).

Music I moved to the Maybe List include Harper Simon’ self-titled album (yes, that’s Paul’s son; I like it, but need to listen a few more times), Lambchop’s Oh (Ohio) (I don’t know why I don’t just pull the trigger on this one), The Grand Archives’ self-titled album (founded by former member of Band of Horses).

Music I bought include Josh Rouse’s Nashville (it’s a shame his music isn’t more prominent), Fountains of Wayne’s Utopia Parkway (why not!), Elliott Smith’s Figure 8 (I have no excuse for letting this linger for so long), The Last Town Chorus’ Wire Waltz (see below).

I admit I’m a sucker for somber, melancholic music, and Megan Hickey of The Last Town Chorus serves it up on a cosmic-size palette of atmospheric lap-steel guitar and ethereal vocals.  The album’s elegiac quality is perfect for those lonely nights on the patio under the stars (without the noisy, upper-middle class white trash neighbors around).  There are echoes of Spiritualized’s spacey soundscape, but Hickey is mindful of the underlying folk-country essence.  Her voice reminds me of Belly’s Tanya Donelly, and her lap-steel guitar style reminds me of, well, no one – it’s utterly unique for that instrument (but perhaps similar to The Edge on electric guitar).

Wire Waltz, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

Modern Love, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).  Yes, it is indeed a David Bowie cover, but completely re-invented.

Caroline, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

As a bonus: Feed The Tree, Belly (from Star, 1993).  God, I can’t believe this was 16 years ago.
[Quote from Village Voice]

A few months ago I decided to clear out my increasingly unwieldy music wish list on Amazon.  So the plan was to either buy it, viagra sales diagnosis delete it or move it to a new Maybe List, stuff which resulted in cutting down the primary list from 135 to 29 albums.

Examples of music I deleted from the list include Hank Williams’ Unreleased Recordings box set (I bought the abridged version on vinyl instead), cheap Tom Waits’ Bone Machine (I love the man, but I just can’t do it), Magnetic Fields’ The Wayward Bus (ok, really, I don’t need to have everything they ever released).

Music I moved to the Maybe List include Harper Simon’s self-titled album (yes, that’s Paul’s son; I like it, but need to listen a few more times), Lambchop’s Oh (Ohio) (I don’t know why I don’t just pull the trigger on this one), The Grand Archives’ self-titled album (founded by former member of Band of Horses).

Music I bought include Josh Rouse’s Nashville (it’s a shame his music isn’t more prominent), Fountains of Wayne’s Utopia Parkway (why not!), Elliott Smith’s Figure 8 (I have no excuse for letting this linger for so long), The Last Town Chorus’ Wire Waltz (see below).

I admit I’m a sucker for somber, melancholic music, and Megan Hickey of The Last Town Chorus serves it up on a cosmic-size palette of atmospheric lap-steel guitar and ethereal vocals.  The album’s elegiac quality is perfect for those lonely nights on the patio under the stars (without the noisy, upper-middle class white trash neighbors around).  There are echoes of Spiritualized’s spacey soundscape, but Hickey is mindful of the underlying folk-country essence.  Her voice reminds me of Belly’s Tanya Donelly, and her lap-steel guitar style reminds me of, well, no one – it’s utterly unique for that instrument (but perhaps similar to The Edge on electric guitar).

Wire Waltz, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

Modern Love, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).  Yes, it is indeed a David Bowie cover, but completely re-invented.

Caroline, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

As a bonus: Feed The Tree, Belly (from Star, 1993).  God, I can’t believe this was 16 years ago.
[Quote from Village Voice]

A few months ago I decided to clear out my increasingly unwieldy music wish list on Amazon.  So the plan was to either buy it, cialis generic nurse delete it or move it to a new Maybe List, discount cialis check which resulted in cutting down the primary list from 135 to 29 albums.

Examples of music I deleted from the list include Hank Williams’ Unreleased Recordings box set (I bought the abridged version on vinyl instead), buy viagra Tom Waits’ Bone Machine (I love the man, but I just can’t do it), Magnetic Fields’ The Wayward Bus (ok, really, I don’t need to have everything they ever released).

Music I moved to the Maybe List include Harper Simon’s self-titled album (yes, that’s Paul’s son; I like it, but need to listen a few more times), Lambchop’s Oh (Ohio) (I don’t know why I don’t just pull the trigger on this one), The Grand Archives’ self-titled album (founded by former member of Band of Horses).

Music I bought include Josh Rouse’s Nashville (it’s a shame his music isn’t more prominent), Fountains of Wayne’s Utopia Parkway (why not!), Elliott Smith’s Figure 8 (I have no excuse for letting this linger for so long), The Last Town Chorus’ Wire Waltz (see below).

I admit I’m a sucker for somber, melancholic music, and Megan Hickey of The Last Town Chorus serves it up on a cosmic-size palette of atmospheric lap-steel guitar and ethereal vocals.  The album’s elegiac quality is perfect for those lonely nights on the patio under the stars (without the noisy, upper-middle class white trash neighbors around).  There are echoes of Spiritualized’s spacey soundscape, but Hickey is mindful of the underlying folk-country essence.  Her voice reminds me of Belly’s Tanya Donelly, and her lap-steel guitar style reminds me of, well, no one – it’s utterly unique for that instrument (but perhaps similar to The Edge on electric guitar).

Wire Waltz, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

Modern Love, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).  Yes, it is indeed a David Bowie cover, but completely re-invented.

Caroline, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

As a bonus: Feed The Tree, Belly (from Star, 1993).  God, I can’t believe this was 16 years ago.
[Quote from Village Voice]

A few months ago I decided to clear out my increasingly unwieldy music wish list on Amazon.  So the plan was to either buy it, viagra buy generic delete it or move it to a new Maybe List, which resulted in cutting down the primary list from 135 to 29 albums.

Examples of music I deleted from the list include Hank Williams’ Unreleased Recordings box set (I bought the abridged version on vinyl instead), Tom Waits’ Bone Machine (I love the man, but I just can’t do it), Magnetic Fields’ The Wayward Bus (ok, really, I don’t need to have everything they ever released).

Music I moved to the Maybe List include Harper Simon’s self-titled album (yes, that’s Paul’s son; I like it, but need to listen a few more times), Lambchop’s Oh (Ohio) (I don’t know why I don’t just pull the trigger on this one), The Grand Archives’ self-titled album (founded by former member of Band of Horses).

Music I bought include Josh Rouse’s Nashville (it’s a shame his music isn’t more prominent), Fountains of Wayne’s Utopia Parkway (why not!), Elliott Smith’s Figure 8 (I have no excuse for letting this linger for so long), The Last Town Chorus’ Wire Waltz (see below).

I admit I’m a sucker for somber, melancholic music, and Megan Hickey of The Last Town Chorus serves it up on a cosmic-size palette of atmospheric lap-steel guitar and ethereal vocals.  The album’s elegiac quality is perfect for those lonely nights on the patio under the stars (without the noisy, upper-middle class white trash neighbors around).  There are echoes of Spiritualized’s spacey soundscape, but Hickey is mindful of the underlying folk-country essence.  Her voice reminds me of Belly’s Tanya Donelly, and her lap-steel guitar style reminds me of, well, no one – it’s utterly unique for that instrument (but perhaps similar to The Edge on electric guitar).

Wire Waltz, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

Modern Love, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).  Yes, it is indeed a David Bowie cover, but completely re-invented.

Caroline, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

As a bonus: Feed The Tree, Belly (from Star, 1993).  God, I can’t believe this was 16 years ago.
It was 1998.  Graduate school.  A tough week of exams.  Late night at a bar.  Came home and drank gallons of Gatorade and took preemptive aspirin.  Slid onto the couch and turned on TV.

I didn’t remember much else from that night, viagra generic ailment but two weeks later I received a package from Time Life, cialis and in it I found a box set titled, see “The Rock ‘N’ Roll Era”.  Spread out over 13 CDs, the box set cataloged some of the best known songs from the 50s and 60s.  At first I thought it was a belated Christmas gift from someone who knew that I grew up listening exclusively to oldies and classic rock, but there was no card, no name, no nothing. But like Scooby and Shaggy, it took about 25 minutes to solve the mystery – the same amount of time to read all the enclosed brochures (I looove brochures) and carefully cut away the shrink wrap on all 13 CDs using an x-acto knife (I was a little anal retentive back then).  As I read the brochures describing the content of the package and thumbed through the CDs, I began to realize what happened on the night two weeks prior – it was my first drunken-late-night-infomercial-purchase incident.  (Sigh – it was not my last.)

Of course, you must understand that this was not my fault. It’s true – I have a weakness, nay genetic disposition to infomercial purchases. My father had a disease, a disease that manifested only on Sundays between 11am-3:30pm while the TV was tuned to either WGN or TBS. He couldn’t help himself from buying completely useless, but well packaged, crap for years and years as we – the rest of the family – collectively clucked our tongues and shook our heads in shame. Don’t believe it was a disease? I have three words for you: Deli. Meat. Slicer. God, I hated ham for a long time afterwards.

So I apparently came home that night, watched the Time Life infomercial, proceeded to call the 800 number, gave my credit card information to buy the 13-CD set, AND somehow agreed to buy the Time Life The Rock ‘N’ Roll Era Still Rockin’ 5-CD extended collection – AND completely forgot about it.  One week later, I indeed did receive the extended collection increasing my stake in Time Life Music.  That’s right – I now had not 13, but 18 CDs from Time Life.

I’m somewhat (but not entirely) embarrassed to admit that there have been other infomercial purchases – inebriated or not.  No need to go into details of all the various devices and such, but I will say that for two weeks in 2000, I had the best beef jerky!  And ok, let me just make it clear that I ordered the Snuggie FOR Amanda because she always complains about being too cold!  Now…did I need to agree to accept the second one for free (and just pay the additional shipping and handling fee of $10)??  No…that one’s on me.  I admit it.

Anyway, here are a few selections from my vast Time Life Music collection.  The first is the original, followed by a great cover.

Sea of Love, Phil Phillips.
Sea Of Love, Cat Power (from The Covers Album, 2000).  Yes, yes, the Honeydrippers version is better known, but I love her voice.

Hey! Baby, Bruce Channel.
Hey! Baby, The Holmes Brothers (from Simple Truths, 2004).  The entire album is quite good.

Last Kiss, J. Frank Wilson & The Cavaliers.
Last Kiss, Pearl Jam (from rearviewmirrors, 2006).  This is probably at or near the top of the A-Cover-Of-A-60s-Song-That-Kids-Think-Is-An-Original List.  Stupid kids.

My Boyfriend’s Back, The Angels.
My Boyfriend’s Back, Raveonettes (from Pretty in Black, 2005).  Just enough fuzz to make the confection more palatable.
It was 1998.  Graduate school.  A tough week of exams.  Late night at a bar.  Came home and drank gallons of Gatorade and took a preemptive aspirin.  Slid onto the couch and turned on TV.

I didn’t remember much else from that night, viagra canada troche but two weeks later I received a package from Time Life, and in it I found a box set titled, “The Rock ‘N’ Roll Era”.  Spread out over 13 CDs, the box set cataloged some of the best known songs from the 50s and 60s.  At first I thought it was a belated Christmas gift from someone who knew that I grew up listening exclusively to oldies and classic rock, but there was no card, no name, no nothing. But like Scooby and Shaggy, it took about 25 minutes to solve the mystery – the same amount of time to read all the enclosed brochures (I looove brochures) and carefully cut away the shrink wrap on all 13 CDs using an x-acto knife (I was a little anal retentive back then).  As I read the brochures describing the content of the package and thumbed through the CDs, I began to realize what happened on the night two weeks prior – it was my first drunken-late-night-infomercial-purchase incident.  (Sigh – it was not my last.)

Of course, you must understand that this was not my fault. It’s true – I have a weakness, nay genetic disposition to infomercial purchases. My father had a disease, a disease that manifested only on Sundays between 11am-3:30pm while the TV was tuned to either WGN or TBS. He couldn’t help himself from buying completely useless, but well packaged, crap for years and years as we – the rest of the family – collectively clucked our tongues and shook our heads in shame. Don’t believe it was a disease? I have three words for you: Deli. Meat. Slicer. God, I hated ham for a long time afterwards.

So I apparently came home that night, watched the Time Life infomercial, proceeded to call the 800 number, gave my credit card information to buy the 13-CD set, AND somehow agreed to buy the Time Life The Rock ‘N’ Roll Era Still Rockin’ 5-CD extended collection – AND completely forgot about it all.  One week later, I indeed did receive the extended collection increasing my stake in Time Life Music.  That’s right – I now had not 13, but 18 CDs from Time Life.

I’m somewhat (but not entirely) embarrassed to admit that there have been other infomercial purchases – inebriated or not.  No need to go into details of all the various devices and such, but I will say that for two weeks in 2000, I had the best beef jerky!  And ok, let me just make it clear that I ordered the Snuggie FOR Amanda because she always complains about being too cold!  Now…did I need to agree to accept the second one for free (and just pay the additional shipping and handling fee of $10)??  No…that one’s on me.  I admit it.

Anyway, here are a few selections from my vast Time Life Music collection.  The first is the original, followed by a great cover.

Sea of Love, Phil Phillips.
Sea Of Love, Cat Power (from The Covers Album, 2000).  Yes, yes, the Honeydrippers version is better known, but I love her voice.

Hey! Baby, Bruce Channel.
Hey! Baby, The Holmes Brothers (from Simple Truths, 2004).  The entire album is quite good.

Last Kiss, J. Frank Wilson & The Cavaliers.
Last Kiss, Pearl Jam (from rearviewmirrors, 2006).  This is probably at or near the top of the A-Cover-Of-A-60s-Song-That-Kids-Think-Is-An-Original List.  Stupid kids.

My Boyfriend’s Back, The Angels.
My Boyfriend’s Back, Raveonettes (from Pretty in Black, 2005).  Just enough fuzz to make the confection more palatable.
It was 1998.  Graduate school.  A tough week of exams.  Late night at a bar.  Came home and drank gallons of Gatorade and took a preemptive aspirin.  Slid onto the couch and turned on TV.

I didn’t remember much else from that night, cialis generic ampoule but two weeks later I received a package from Time Life, viagra canada clinic and in it I found a box set titled, “The Rock ‘N’ Roll Era”.  Spread out over 13 CDs, the box set cataloged some of the best known songs from the 50s and 60s.  At first I thought it was a belated Christmas gift from someone who knew that I grew up listening exclusively to oldies and classic rock, but there was no card, no name, no nothing. But like Scooby and Shaggy, it took about 25 minutes to solve the mystery – the same amount of time to read all the enclosed brochures (I looove brochures) and carefully cut away the shrink wrap on all 13 CDs using an x-acto knife (I was a little anal retentive back then).  As I read the brochures describing the content of the package and thumbed through the CDs, I began to realize what happened on the night two weeks prior – it was my first drunken-late-night-infomercial-purchase incident.  (Sigh – it was not my last.)

Of course, you must understand that this was not my fault. It’s true – I have a weakness, nay genetic disposition to infomercial purchases. My father had a disease, a disease that manifested only on Sundays between 11am-3:30pm while the TV was tuned to either WGN or TBS. He couldn’t help himself from buying completely useless, but well packaged, crap for years and years as we – the rest of the family – collectively clucked our tongues and shook our heads in shame. Don’t believe it was a disease? I have three words for you: Deli. Meat. Slicer. God, I hated ham for a long time afterwards.

So I apparently came home that night, watched the Time Life infomercial, proceeded to call the 800 number, gave my credit card information to buy the 13-CD set, AND somehow agreed to buy the Time Life The Rock ‘N’ Roll Era Still Rockin’ 5-CD extended collection – AND completely forgot about it all.  One week later, I indeed did receive the extended collection increasing my stake in Time Life Music.  That’s right – I now had not 13, but 18 CDs from Time Life.

I’m somewhat (but not entirely) embarrassed to admit that there have been other infomercial purchases – inebriated or not.  No need to go into details of all the various devices and such, but I will say that for two weeks in 2000, I had the best beef jerky!  And ok, let me just make it clear that I ordered the Snuggie FOR Amanda because she always complains about being too cold!  Now…did I need to agree to accept the second one for “free” (and just pay the additional shipping and handling fee of $10)??  No…that one’s on me.  I admit it.

Anyway, here are a few selections from my vast Time Life Music collection.  The first is the original, followed by a great cover.

Sea of Love, Phil Phillips.
Sea Of Love, Cat Power (from The Covers Album, 2000).  Yes, yes, the Honeydrippers version is better known, but I love her voice.

Hey! Baby, Bruce Channel.
Hey! Baby, The Holmes Brothers (from Simple Truths, 2004).  The entire album is quite good.

Last Kiss, J. Frank Wilson & The Cavaliers.
Last Kiss, Pearl Jam (from rearviewmirrors, 2006).  This is probably at or near the top of the A-Cover-Of-A-60s-Song-That-Kids-Think-Is-An-Original List.  Stupid kids.

My Boyfriend’s Back, The Angels.
My Boyfriend’s Back, Raveonettes (from Pretty in Black, 2005).  Just enough fuzz to make the confection more palatable.
[Quote from Village Voice]

A few months ago I decided to clear out my increasingly unwieldy music wish list on Amazon.  So the plan was to either buy it, cialis healing delete it or move it to a new Maybe List, cialis sale unhealthy which resulted in cutting down the primary list from 135 to 29 albums.

Examples of music I deleted from the list include Hank Williams’ Unreleased Recordings box set (I bought the abridged version on vinyl instead), viagra Tom Waits’ Bone Machine (I love the man, but I just can’t do it), Magnetic Fields’ The Wayward Bus (ok, really, I don’t need to have everything they ever released).

Music I moved to the Maybe List include Harper Simon’s self-titled album (yes, that’s Paul’s son; I like it, but need to listen a few more times), Lambchop’s Oh (Ohio) (I don’t know why I don’t just pull the trigger on this one), The Grand Archives’ self-titled album (founded by former member of Band of Horses).

Music I bought include Josh Rouse’s Nashville (it’s a shame his music isn’t more prominent), Fountains of Wayne’s Utopia Parkway (why not!), Elliott Smith’s Figure 8 (I have no excuse for letting this linger for so long), The Last Town Chorus’ Wire Waltz (see below).

I admit I’m a sucker for somber, melancholic music, and Megan Hickey of The Last Town Chorus serves it up on a cosmic-size palette of atmospheric lap-steel guitar and ethereal vocals.  The album’s elegiac quality is perfect for those lonely nights on the patio under the stars (without the noisy, upper-middle class white trash neighbors around).  There are echoes of Spiritualized’s spacey soundscape, but Hickey is mindful of the underlying folk-country essence.  Her voice reminds me of Belly’s Tanya Donelly, and her lap-steel guitar style reminds me of, well, no one – it’s utterly unique for that instrument (but perhaps similar to The Edge on electric guitar).

Wire Waltz, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

Modern Love, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).  Yes, it is indeed a David Bowie cover, but completely re-invented.

Caroline, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

As a bonus: Feed The Tree, Belly (from Star, 1993).  God, I can’t believe this was 16 years ago.
[Quote from Village Voice]

A few months ago I decided to clear out my increasingly unwieldy music wish list on Amazon.  So the plan was to either buy it, sildenafil drugstore delete it or move it to a new Maybe List, decease which resulted in cutting down the primary list from 135 to 29 albums.

Examples of music I deleted from the list include Hank Williams’ Unreleased Recordings box set (I bought the abridged version on vinyl instead), stuff Tom Waits’ Bone Machine (I love the man, but I just can’t do it), Magnetic Fields’ The Wayward Bus (ok, really, I don’t need to have everything they ever released).

Music I moved to the Maybe List include Harper Simon’s self-titled album (yes, that’s Paul’s son; I like it, but need to listen a few more times), Lambchop’s Oh (Ohio) (I don’t know why I don’t just pull the trigger on this one), The Grand Archives’ self-titled album (founded by former member of Band of Horses).

Music I bought include Josh Rouse’s Nashville (it’s a shame his music isn’t more prominent), Fountains of Wayne’s Utopia Parkway (why not!), Elliott Smith’s Figure 8 (I have no excuse for letting this linger for so long), The Last Town Chorus’ Wire Waltz (see below).

I admit I’m a sucker for somber, melancholic music, and Megan Hickey of The Last Town Chorus serves it up on a cosmic-size palette of atmospheric lap-steel guitar and ethereal vocals.  The album’s elegiac quality is perfect for those lonely nights on the patio under the stars (without the noisy, upper-middle class white trash neighbors around).  There are echoes of Spiritualized’s spacey soundscape, but Hickey is mindful of the underlying folk-country essence.  Her voice reminds me of Belly’s Tanya Donelly, and her lap-steel guitar style reminds me of, well, no one – it’s utterly unique for that instrument (but perhaps similar to The Edge on electric guitar).

Wire Waltz, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

Modern Love, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).  Yes, it is indeed a David Bowie cover, but completely re-invented.

Caroline, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

As a bonus: Feed The Tree, Belly (from Star, 1993).  God, I can’t believe this was 16 years ago.
Quote from Village Voice]

A few months ago I decided to clear out my increasingly unwieldy music wish list on Amazon.  So the plan was to either buy it, viagra sales stuff delete it or move it to a new Maybe List, viagra sale sale which resulted in cutting down the primary list from 135 to 29 albums.

Examples of music I deleted from the list include Hank Williams’ Unreleased Recordings box set (I bought the abridged version on vinyl instead), Tom Waits’ Bone Machine (I love the man, but I just can’t do it), Magnetic Fields’ The Wayward Bus (ok, really, I don’t need to have everything they ever released).

Music I moved to the Maybe List include Harper Simon’ self-titled album (yes, that’s Paul’s son; I like it, but need to listen a few more times), Lambchop’ Oh (Ohio) (I don’t know why I don’t just pull the trigger on this one), The Grand Archives’ self-titled album (founded by former member of Band of Horses).

Music I bought include Josh Rouse’s Nashville (it’s a shame his music isn’t more prominent), Fountains of Wayne’s Utopia Parkway (why not!), Elliott Smith’s Figure 8 (I have no excuse for letting this linger for so long), The Last Town Chorus’ Wire Waltz (see below).

I admit I’m a sucker for somber, melancholic music, and Megan Hickey of The Last Town Chorus serves it up on a cosmic-size palette of atmospheric lap-steel guitar and ethereal vocals.  The album’s elegiac quality is perfect for those lonely nights on the patio under the stars (without the noisy, upper-middle class white trash neighbors around).  There are echoes of Spiritualized’s spacey soundscape, but Hickey is mindful of the underlying folk-country essence.  Her voice reminds me of Belly’s Tanya Donelly, and her lap-steel guitar style reminds me of, well, no one – it’s utterly unique for that instrument.

Wire Waltz, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

Modern Love, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).  Yes, it is indeed a David Bowie cover, but completely re-invented.

Caroline, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

As a bonus: Feed The Tree, Belly (from Star, 1993).  God, I can’t believe this was 16 years ago.
[Quote from Village Voice]

A few months ago I decided to clear out my increasingly unwieldy music wish list on Amazon.  So the plan was to either buy it, best viagra buy delete it or move it to a new Maybe List, cialis sales recipe which resulted in cutting down the primary list from 135 to 29 albums.

Examples of music I deleted from the list include Hank Williams’ Unreleased Recordings box set (I bought the abridged version on vinyl instead), treat Tom Waits’ Bone Machine (I love the man, but I just can’t do it), Magnetic Fields’ The Wayward Bus (ok, really, I don’t need to have everything they ever released).

Music I moved to the Maybe List include Harper Simon’ self-titled album (yes, that’s Paul’s son; I like it, but need to listen a few more times), Lambchop’s Oh (Ohio) (I don’t know why I don’t just pull the trigger on this one), The Grand Archives’ self-titled album (founded by former member of Band of Horses).

Music I bought include Josh Rouse’s Nashville (it’s a shame his music isn’t more prominent), Fountains of Wayne’s Utopia Parkway (why not!), Elliott Smith’s Figure 8 (I have no excuse for letting this linger for so long), The Last Town Chorus’ Wire Waltz (see below).

I admit I’m a sucker for somber, melancholic music, and Megan Hickey of The Last Town Chorus serves it up on a cosmic-size palette of atmospheric lap-steel guitar and ethereal vocals.  The album’s elegiac quality is perfect for those lonely nights on the patio under the stars (without the noisy, upper-middle class white trash neighbors around).  There are echoes of Spiritualized’s spacey soundscape, but Hickey is mindful of the underlying folk-country essence.  Her voice reminds me of Belly’s Tanya Donelly, and her lap-steel guitar style reminds me of, well, no one – it’s utterly unique for that instrument (but perhaps similar to The Edge on electric guitar).

Wire Waltz, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

Modern Love, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).  Yes, it is indeed a David Bowie cover, but completely re-invented.

Caroline, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

As a bonus: Feed The Tree, Belly (from Star, 1993).  God, I can’t believe this was 16 years ago.
[Quote from Village Voice]

A few months ago I decided to clear out my increasingly unwieldy music wish list on Amazon.  So the plan was to either buy it, viagra sale diagnosis delete it or move it to a new Maybe List, cialis which resulted in cutting down the primary list from 135 to 29 albums.

Examples of music I deleted from the list include Hank Williams’ Unreleased Recordings box set (I bought the abridged version on vinyl instead), Tom Waits’ Bone Machine (I love the man, but I just can’t do it), Magnetic Fields’ The Wayward Bus (ok, really, I don’t need to have everything they ever released).

Music I moved to the Maybe List include Harper Simon’ self-titled album (yes, that’s Paul’s son; I like it, but need to listen a few more times), Lambchop’s Oh (Ohio) (I don’t know why I don’t just pull the trigger on this one), The Grand Archives’ self-titled album (founded by former member of Band of Horses).

Music I bought include Josh Rouse’s Nashville (it’s a shame his music isn’t more prominent), Fountains of Wayne’s Utopia Parkway (why not!), Elliott Smith’s Figure 8 (I have no excuse for letting this linger for so long), The Last Town Chorus’ Wire Waltz (see below).

I admit I’m a sucker for somber, melancholic music, and Megan Hickey of The Last Town Chorus serves it up on a cosmic-size palette of atmospheric lap-steel guitar and ethereal vocals.  The album’s elegiac quality is perfect for those lonely nights on the patio under the stars (without the noisy, upper-middle class white trash neighbors around).  There are echoes of Spiritualized’s spacey soundscape, but Hickey is mindful of the underlying folk-country essence.  Her voice reminds me of Belly’s Tanya Donelly, and her lap-steel guitar style reminds me of, well, no one – it’s utterly unique for that instrument (but perhaps similar to The Edge on electric guitar).

Wire Waltz, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

Modern Love, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).  Yes, it is indeed a David Bowie cover, but completely re-invented.

Caroline, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

As a bonus: Feed The Tree, Belly (from Star, 1993).  God, I can’t believe this was 16 years ago.
[Quote from Village Voice]

A few months ago I decided to clear out my increasingly unwieldy music wish list on Amazon.  So the plan was to either buy it, viagra generic generic delete it or move it to a new Maybe List, buy viagra which resulted in cutting down the primary list from 135 to 29 albums.

Examples of music I deleted from the list include Hank Williams’ Unreleased Recordings box set (I bought the abridged version on vinyl instead), Tom Waits’ Bone Machine (I love the man, but I just can’t do it), Magnetic Fields’ The Wayward Bus (ok, really, I don’t need to have everything they ever released).

Music I moved to the Maybe List include Harper Simon’ self-titled album (yes, that’s Paul’s son; I like it, but need to listen a few more times), Lambchop’s Oh (Ohio) (I don’t know why I don’t just pull the trigger on this one), The Grand Archives’ self-titled album (founded by former member of Band of Horses).

Music I bought include Josh Rouse’s Nashville (it’s a shame his music isn’t more prominent), Fountains of Wayne’s Utopia Parkway (why not!), Elliott Smith’s Figure 8 (I have no excuse for letting this linger for so long), The Last Town Chorus’ Wire Waltz (see below).

I admit I’m a sucker for somber, melancholic music, and Megan Hickey of The Last Town Chorus serves it up on a cosmic-size palette of atmospheric lap-steel guitar and ethereal vocals.  The album’s elegiac quality is perfect for those lonely nights on the patio under the stars (without the noisy, upper-middle class white trash neighbors around).  There are echoes of Spiritualized’s spacey soundscape, but Hickey is mindful of the underlying folk-country essence.  Her voice reminds me of Belly’s Tanya Donelly, and her lap-steel guitar style reminds me of, well, no one – it’s utterly unique for that instrument (but perhaps similar to The Edge on electric guitar).

Wire Waltz, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

Modern Love, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).  Yes, it is indeed a David Bowie cover, but completely re-invented.

Caroline, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

As a bonus: Feed The Tree, Belly (from Star, 1993).  God, I can’t believe this was 16 years ago.
[Quote from Village Voice]

A few months ago I decided to clear out my increasingly unwieldy music wish list on Amazon.  So the plan was to either buy it, discount viagra advice delete it or move it to a new Maybe List, cialis buy sale which resulted in cutting down the primary list from 135 to 29 albums.

Examples of music I deleted from the list include Hank Williams’ Unreleased Recordings box set (I bought the abridged version on vinyl instead), Tom Waits’ Bone Machine (I love the man, but I just can’t do it), Magnetic Fields’ The Wayward Bus (ok, really, I don’t need to have everything they ever released).

Music I moved to the Maybe List include Harper Simon’ self-titled album (yes, that’s Paul’s son; I like it, but need to listen a few more times), Lambchop’s Oh (Ohio) (I don’t know why I don’t just pull the trigger on this one), The Grand Archives’ self-titled album (founded by former member of Band of Horses).

Music I bought include Josh Rouse’s Nashville (it’s a shame his music isn’t more prominent), Fountains of Wayne’s Utopia Parkway (why not!), Elliott Smith’s Figure 8 (I have no excuse for letting this linger for so long), The Last Town Chorus’ Wire Waltz (see below).

I admit I’m a sucker for somber, melancholic music, and Megan Hickey of The Last Town Chorus serves it up on a cosmic-size palette of atmospheric lap-steel guitar and ethereal vocals.  The album’s elegiac quality is perfect for those lonely nights on the patio under the stars (without the noisy, upper-middle class white trash neighbors around).  There are echoes of Spiritualized’s spacey soundscape, but Hickey is mindful of the underlying folk-country essence.  Her voice reminds me of Belly’s Tanya Donelly, and her lap-steel guitar style reminds me of, well, no one – it’s utterly unique for that instrument (but perhaps similar to The Edge on electric guitar).

Wire Waltz, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

Modern Love, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).  Yes, it is indeed a David Bowie cover, but completely re-invented.

Caroline, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

As a bonus: Feed The Tree, Belly (from Star, 1993).  God, I can’t believe this was 16 years ago.
[Quote from Village Voice]

A few months ago I decided to clear out my increasingly unwieldy music wish list on Amazon.  So the plan was to either buy it, viagra sales diagnosis delete it or move it to a new Maybe List, stuff which resulted in cutting down the primary list from 135 to 29 albums.

Examples of music I deleted from the list include Hank Williams’ Unreleased Recordings box set (I bought the abridged version on vinyl instead), cheap Tom Waits’ Bone Machine (I love the man, but I just can’t do it), Magnetic Fields’ The Wayward Bus (ok, really, I don’t need to have everything they ever released).

Music I moved to the Maybe List include Harper Simon’s self-titled album (yes, that’s Paul’s son; I like it, but need to listen a few more times), Lambchop’s Oh (Ohio) (I don’t know why I don’t just pull the trigger on this one), The Grand Archives’ self-titled album (founded by former member of Band of Horses).

Music I bought include Josh Rouse’s Nashville (it’s a shame his music isn’t more prominent), Fountains of Wayne’s Utopia Parkway (why not!), Elliott Smith’s Figure 8 (I have no excuse for letting this linger for so long), The Last Town Chorus’ Wire Waltz (see below).

I admit I’m a sucker for somber, melancholic music, and Megan Hickey of The Last Town Chorus serves it up on a cosmic-size palette of atmospheric lap-steel guitar and ethereal vocals.  The album’s elegiac quality is perfect for those lonely nights on the patio under the stars (without the noisy, upper-middle class white trash neighbors around).  There are echoes of Spiritualized’s spacey soundscape, but Hickey is mindful of the underlying folk-country essence.  Her voice reminds me of Belly’s Tanya Donelly, and her lap-steel guitar style reminds me of, well, no one – it’s utterly unique for that instrument (but perhaps similar to The Edge on electric guitar).

Wire Waltz, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

Modern Love, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).  Yes, it is indeed a David Bowie cover, but completely re-invented.

Caroline, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

As a bonus: Feed The Tree, Belly (from Star, 1993).  God, I can’t believe this was 16 years ago.
[Quote from Village Voice]

A few months ago I decided to clear out my increasingly unwieldy music wish list on Amazon.  So the plan was to either buy it, cialis generic nurse delete it or move it to a new Maybe List, discount cialis check which resulted in cutting down the primary list from 135 to 29 albums.

Examples of music I deleted from the list include Hank Williams’ Unreleased Recordings box set (I bought the abridged version on vinyl instead), buy viagra Tom Waits’ Bone Machine (I love the man, but I just can’t do it), Magnetic Fields’ The Wayward Bus (ok, really, I don’t need to have everything they ever released).

Music I moved to the Maybe List include Harper Simon’s self-titled album (yes, that’s Paul’s son; I like it, but need to listen a few more times), Lambchop’s Oh (Ohio) (I don’t know why I don’t just pull the trigger on this one), The Grand Archives’ self-titled album (founded by former member of Band of Horses).

Music I bought include Josh Rouse’s Nashville (it’s a shame his music isn’t more prominent), Fountains of Wayne’s Utopia Parkway (why not!), Elliott Smith’s Figure 8 (I have no excuse for letting this linger for so long), The Last Town Chorus’ Wire Waltz (see below).

I admit I’m a sucker for somber, melancholic music, and Megan Hickey of The Last Town Chorus serves it up on a cosmic-size palette of atmospheric lap-steel guitar and ethereal vocals.  The album’s elegiac quality is perfect for those lonely nights on the patio under the stars (without the noisy, upper-middle class white trash neighbors around).  There are echoes of Spiritualized’s spacey soundscape, but Hickey is mindful of the underlying folk-country essence.  Her voice reminds me of Belly’s Tanya Donelly, and her lap-steel guitar style reminds me of, well, no one – it’s utterly unique for that instrument (but perhaps similar to The Edge on electric guitar).

Wire Waltz, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

Modern Love, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).  Yes, it is indeed a David Bowie cover, but completely re-invented.

Caroline, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

As a bonus: Feed The Tree, Belly (from Star, 1993).  God, I can’t believe this was 16 years ago.
[Quote from Village Voice]

A few months ago I decided to clear out my increasingly unwieldy music wish list on Amazon.  So the plan was to either buy it, viagra buy generic delete it or move it to a new Maybe List, which resulted in cutting down the primary list from 135 to 29 albums.

Examples of music I deleted from the list include Hank Williams’ Unreleased Recordings box set (I bought the abridged version on vinyl instead), Tom Waits’ Bone Machine (I love the man, but I just can’t do it), Magnetic Fields’ The Wayward Bus (ok, really, I don’t need to have everything they ever released).

Music I moved to the Maybe List include Harper Simon’s self-titled album (yes, that’s Paul’s son; I like it, but need to listen a few more times), Lambchop’s Oh (Ohio) (I don’t know why I don’t just pull the trigger on this one), The Grand Archives’ self-titled album (founded by former member of Band of Horses).

Music I bought include Josh Rouse’s Nashville (it’s a shame his music isn’t more prominent), Fountains of Wayne’s Utopia Parkway (why not!), Elliott Smith’s Figure 8 (I have no excuse for letting this linger for so long), The Last Town Chorus’ Wire Waltz (see below).

I admit I’m a sucker for somber, melancholic music, and Megan Hickey of The Last Town Chorus serves it up on a cosmic-size palette of atmospheric lap-steel guitar and ethereal vocals.  The album’s elegiac quality is perfect for those lonely nights on the patio under the stars (without the noisy, upper-middle class white trash neighbors around).  There are echoes of Spiritualized’s spacey soundscape, but Hickey is mindful of the underlying folk-country essence.  Her voice reminds me of Belly’s Tanya Donelly, and her lap-steel guitar style reminds me of, well, no one – it’s utterly unique for that instrument (but perhaps similar to The Edge on electric guitar).

Wire Waltz, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

Modern Love, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).  Yes, it is indeed a David Bowie cover, but completely re-invented.

Caroline, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

As a bonus: Feed The Tree, Belly (from Star, 1993).  God, I can’t believe this was 16 years ago.
It was 1998.  Graduate school.  A tough week of exams.  Late night at a bar.  Came home and drank gallons of Gatorade and took preemptive aspirin.  Slid onto the couch and turned on TV.

I didn’t remember much else from that night, viagra generic ailment but two weeks later I received a package from Time Life, cialis and in it I found a box set titled, see “The Rock ‘N’ Roll Era”.  Spread out over 13 CDs, the box set cataloged some of the best known songs from the 50s and 60s.  At first I thought it was a belated Christmas gift from someone who knew that I grew up listening exclusively to oldies and classic rock, but there was no card, no name, no nothing. But like Scooby and Shaggy, it took about 25 minutes to solve the mystery – the same amount of time to read all the enclosed brochures (I looove brochures) and carefully cut away the shrink wrap on all 13 CDs using an x-acto knife (I was a little anal retentive back then).  As I read the brochures describing the content of the package and thumbed through the CDs, I began to realize what happened on the night two weeks prior – it was my first drunken-late-night-infomercial-purchase incident.  (Sigh – it was not my last.)

Of course, you must understand that this was not my fault. It’s true – I have a weakness, nay genetic disposition to infomercial purchases. My father had a disease, a disease that manifested only on Sundays between 11am-3:30pm while the TV was tuned to either WGN or TBS. He couldn’t help himself from buying completely useless, but well packaged, crap for years and years as we – the rest of the family – collectively clucked our tongues and shook our heads in shame. Don’t believe it was a disease? I have three words for you: Deli. Meat. Slicer. God, I hated ham for a long time afterwards.

So I apparently came home that night, watched the Time Life infomercial, proceeded to call the 800 number, gave my credit card information to buy the 13-CD set, AND somehow agreed to buy the Time Life The Rock ‘N’ Roll Era Still Rockin’ 5-CD extended collection – AND completely forgot about it.  One week later, I indeed did receive the extended collection increasing my stake in Time Life Music.  That’s right – I now had not 13, but 18 CDs from Time Life.

I’m somewhat (but not entirely) embarrassed to admit that there have been other infomercial purchases – inebriated or not.  No need to go into details of all the various devices and such, but I will say that for two weeks in 2000, I had the best beef jerky!  And ok, let me just make it clear that I ordered the Snuggie FOR Amanda because she always complains about being too cold!  Now…did I need to agree to accept the second one for free (and just pay the additional shipping and handling fee of $10)??  No…that one’s on me.  I admit it.

Anyway, here are a few selections from my vast Time Life Music collection.  The first is the original, followed by a great cover.

Sea of Love, Phil Phillips.
Sea Of Love, Cat Power (from The Covers Album, 2000).  Yes, yes, the Honeydrippers version is better known, but I love her voice.

Hey! Baby, Bruce Channel.
Hey! Baby, The Holmes Brothers (from Simple Truths, 2004).  The entire album is quite good.

Last Kiss, J. Frank Wilson & The Cavaliers.
Last Kiss, Pearl Jam (from rearviewmirrors, 2006).  This is probably at or near the top of the A-Cover-Of-A-60s-Song-That-Kids-Think-Is-An-Original List.  Stupid kids.

My Boyfriend’s Back, The Angels.
My Boyfriend’s Back, Raveonettes (from Pretty in Black, 2005).  Just enough fuzz to make the confection more palatable.
It was 1998.  Graduate school.  A tough week of exams.  Late night at a bar.  Came home and drank gallons of Gatorade and took a preemptive aspirin.  Slid onto the couch and turned on TV.

I didn’t remember much else from that night, viagra canada troche but two weeks later I received a package from Time Life, and in it I found a box set titled, “The Rock ‘N’ Roll Era”.  Spread out over 13 CDs, the box set cataloged some of the best known songs from the 50s and 60s.  At first I thought it was a belated Christmas gift from someone who knew that I grew up listening exclusively to oldies and classic rock, but there was no card, no name, no nothing. But like Scooby and Shaggy, it took about 25 minutes to solve the mystery – the same amount of time to read all the enclosed brochures (I looove brochures) and carefully cut away the shrink wrap on all 13 CDs using an x-acto knife (I was a little anal retentive back then).  As I read the brochures describing the content of the package and thumbed through the CDs, I began to realize what happened on the night two weeks prior – it was my first drunken-late-night-infomercial-purchase incident.  (Sigh – it was not my last.)

Of course, you must understand that this was not my fault. It’s true – I have a weakness, nay genetic disposition to infomercial purchases. My father had a disease, a disease that manifested only on Sundays between 11am-3:30pm while the TV was tuned to either WGN or TBS. He couldn’t help himself from buying completely useless, but well packaged, crap for years and years as we – the rest of the family – collectively clucked our tongues and shook our heads in shame. Don’t believe it was a disease? I have three words for you: Deli. Meat. Slicer. God, I hated ham for a long time afterwards.

So I apparently came home that night, watched the Time Life infomercial, proceeded to call the 800 number, gave my credit card information to buy the 13-CD set, AND somehow agreed to buy the Time Life The Rock ‘N’ Roll Era Still Rockin’ 5-CD extended collection – AND completely forgot about it all.  One week later, I indeed did receive the extended collection increasing my stake in Time Life Music.  That’s right – I now had not 13, but 18 CDs from Time Life.

I’m somewhat (but not entirely) embarrassed to admit that there have been other infomercial purchases – inebriated or not.  No need to go into details of all the various devices and such, but I will say that for two weeks in 2000, I had the best beef jerky!  And ok, let me just make it clear that I ordered the Snuggie FOR Amanda because she always complains about being too cold!  Now…did I need to agree to accept the second one for free (and just pay the additional shipping and handling fee of $10)??  No…that one’s on me.  I admit it.

Anyway, here are a few selections from my vast Time Life Music collection.  The first is the original, followed by a great cover.

Sea of Love, Phil Phillips.
Sea Of Love, Cat Power (from The Covers Album, 2000).  Yes, yes, the Honeydrippers version is better known, but I love her voice.

Hey! Baby, Bruce Channel.
Hey! Baby, The Holmes Brothers (from Simple Truths, 2004).  The entire album is quite good.

Last Kiss, J. Frank Wilson & The Cavaliers.
Last Kiss, Pearl Jam (from rearviewmirrors, 2006).  This is probably at or near the top of the A-Cover-Of-A-60s-Song-That-Kids-Think-Is-An-Original List.  Stupid kids.

My Boyfriend’s Back, The Angels.
My Boyfriend’s Back, Raveonettes (from Pretty in Black, 2005).  Just enough fuzz to make the confection more palatable.
It was 1998.  Graduate school.  A tough week of exams.  Late night at a bar.  Came home and drank gallons of Gatorade and took a preemptive aspirin.  Slid onto the couch and turned on TV.

I didn’t remember much else from that night, cialis generic ampoule but two weeks later I received a package from Time Life, viagra canada clinic and in it I found a box set titled, “The Rock ‘N’ Roll Era”.  Spread out over 13 CDs, the box set cataloged some of the best known songs from the 50s and 60s.  At first I thought it was a belated Christmas gift from someone who knew that I grew up listening exclusively to oldies and classic rock, but there was no card, no name, no nothing. But like Scooby and Shaggy, it took about 25 minutes to solve the mystery – the same amount of time to read all the enclosed brochures (I looove brochures) and carefully cut away the shrink wrap on all 13 CDs using an x-acto knife (I was a little anal retentive back then).  As I read the brochures describing the content of the package and thumbed through the CDs, I began to realize what happened on the night two weeks prior – it was my first drunken-late-night-infomercial-purchase incident.  (Sigh – it was not my last.)

Of course, you must understand that this was not my fault. It’s true – I have a weakness, nay genetic disposition to infomercial purchases. My father had a disease, a disease that manifested only on Sundays between 11am-3:30pm while the TV was tuned to either WGN or TBS. He couldn’t help himself from buying completely useless, but well packaged, crap for years and years as we – the rest of the family – collectively clucked our tongues and shook our heads in shame. Don’t believe it was a disease? I have three words for you: Deli. Meat. Slicer. God, I hated ham for a long time afterwards.

So I apparently came home that night, watched the Time Life infomercial, proceeded to call the 800 number, gave my credit card information to buy the 13-CD set, AND somehow agreed to buy the Time Life The Rock ‘N’ Roll Era Still Rockin’ 5-CD extended collection – AND completely forgot about it all.  One week later, I indeed did receive the extended collection increasing my stake in Time Life Music.  That’s right – I now had not 13, but 18 CDs from Time Life.

I’m somewhat (but not entirely) embarrassed to admit that there have been other infomercial purchases – inebriated or not.  No need to go into details of all the various devices and such, but I will say that for two weeks in 2000, I had the best beef jerky!  And ok, let me just make it clear that I ordered the Snuggie FOR Amanda because she always complains about being too cold!  Now…did I need to agree to accept the second one for “free” (and just pay the additional shipping and handling fee of $10)??  No…that one’s on me.  I admit it.

Anyway, here are a few selections from my vast Time Life Music collection.  The first is the original, followed by a great cover.

Sea of Love, Phil Phillips.
Sea Of Love, Cat Power (from The Covers Album, 2000).  Yes, yes, the Honeydrippers version is better known, but I love her voice.

Hey! Baby, Bruce Channel.
Hey! Baby, The Holmes Brothers (from Simple Truths, 2004).  The entire album is quite good.

Last Kiss, J. Frank Wilson & The Cavaliers.
Last Kiss, Pearl Jam (from rearviewmirrors, 2006).  This is probably at or near the top of the A-Cover-Of-A-60s-Song-That-Kids-Think-Is-An-Original List.  Stupid kids.

My Boyfriend’s Back, The Angels.
My Boyfriend’s Back, Raveonettes (from Pretty in Black, 2005).  Just enough fuzz to make the confection more palatable.
[Quote from Village Voice]

A few months ago I decided to clear out my increasingly unwieldy music wish list on Amazon.  So the plan was to either buy it, cialis healing delete it or move it to a new Maybe List, cialis sale unhealthy which resulted in cutting down the primary list from 135 to 29 albums.

Examples of music I deleted from the list include Hank Williams’ Unreleased Recordings box set (I bought the abridged version on vinyl instead), viagra Tom Waits’ Bone Machine (I love the man, but I just can’t do it), Magnetic Fields’ The Wayward Bus (ok, really, I don’t need to have everything they ever released).

Music I moved to the Maybe List include Harper Simon’s self-titled album (yes, that’s Paul’s son; I like it, but need to listen a few more times), Lambchop’s Oh (Ohio) (I don’t know why I don’t just pull the trigger on this one), The Grand Archives’ self-titled album (founded by former member of Band of Horses).

Music I bought include Josh Rouse’s Nashville (it’s a shame his music isn’t more prominent), Fountains of Wayne’s Utopia Parkway (why not!), Elliott Smith’s Figure 8 (I have no excuse for letting this linger for so long), The Last Town Chorus’ Wire Waltz (see below).

I admit I’m a sucker for somber, melancholic music, and Megan Hickey of The Last Town Chorus serves it up on a cosmic-size palette of atmospheric lap-steel guitar and ethereal vocals.  The album’s elegiac quality is perfect for those lonely nights on the patio under the stars (without the noisy, upper-middle class white trash neighbors around).  There are echoes of Spiritualized’s spacey soundscape, but Hickey is mindful of the underlying folk-country essence.  Her voice reminds me of Belly’s Tanya Donelly, and her lap-steel guitar style reminds me of, well, no one – it’s utterly unique for that instrument (but perhaps similar to The Edge on electric guitar).

Wire Waltz, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

Modern Love, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).  Yes, it is indeed a David Bowie cover, but completely re-invented.

Caroline, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

As a bonus: Feed The Tree, Belly (from Star, 1993).  God, I can’t believe this was 16 years ago.
[Quote from Village Voice]

A few months ago I decided to clear out my increasingly unwieldy music wish list on Amazon.  So the plan was to either buy it, sildenafil drugstore delete it or move it to a new Maybe List, decease which resulted in cutting down the primary list from 135 to 29 albums.

Examples of music I deleted from the list include Hank Williams’ Unreleased Recordings box set (I bought the abridged version on vinyl instead), stuff Tom Waits’ Bone Machine (I love the man, but I just can’t do it), Magnetic Fields’ The Wayward Bus (ok, really, I don’t need to have everything they ever released).

Music I moved to the Maybe List include Harper Simon’s self-titled album (yes, that’s Paul’s son; I like it, but need to listen a few more times), Lambchop’s Oh (Ohio) (I don’t know why I don’t just pull the trigger on this one), The Grand Archives’ self-titled album (founded by former member of Band of Horses).

Music I bought include Josh Rouse’s Nashville (it’s a shame his music isn’t more prominent), Fountains of Wayne’s Utopia Parkway (why not!), Elliott Smith’s Figure 8 (I have no excuse for letting this linger for so long), The Last Town Chorus’ Wire Waltz (see below).

I admit I’m a sucker for somber, melancholic music, and Megan Hickey of The Last Town Chorus serves it up on a cosmic-size palette of atmospheric lap-steel guitar and ethereal vocals.  The album’s elegiac quality is perfect for those lonely nights on the patio under the stars (without the noisy, upper-middle class white trash neighbors around).  There are echoes of Spiritualized’s spacey soundscape, but Hickey is mindful of the underlying folk-country essence.  Her voice reminds me of Belly’s Tanya Donelly, and her lap-steel guitar style reminds me of, well, no one – it’s utterly unique for that instrument (but perhaps similar to The Edge on electric guitar).

Wire Waltz, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

Modern Love, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).  Yes, it is indeed a David Bowie cover, but completely re-invented.

Caroline, The Last Town Chorus (from Wire Waltz, 2006).

As a bonus: Feed The Tree, Belly (from Star, 1993).  God, I can’t believe this was 16 years ago.
Crunchy Electric Guitars: checkmark
Inimitable Voice of J. Mascis: checkmark
Noise and Catchy Melody: checkmark

I Want You To Know, discount viagra discount Dinosaur Jr. (from Farm-Buy Here, 2009).

Posted in Friday Quickies.