It's been a pretty good year here at BSHQ—we were happy independently release eight records from artists we greatly admire like: Graham Parker, Jon Langford, Justin Townes Earle, Ben Weaver, Whitey Morgan and The 78s, Deadstring Brothers, Andre Williams and The Blacks. Here, the Bloodshot worker bees look back on 2010 and what stood out amongst the year
In our ongoing attempts to answer the persistent questions: "who the hell works at Bloodshot and what is wrong with them? " we occasionally quiz the staff in the hopes of shedding light on what makes us tick. Perhaps, knowing us better, you will be more forgiving of our foibles, or even grow to feel something bordering on fondness for us.
In this installment, we address love of the Classic Rock. It is interesting that in this era of dead radio, downloads and short attention spans, contemporary culture is adding nothing to the classic rock canon. It’s become frozen in time. Also, despite a perhaps general hatred for popular culture, a particular kind of music, or the band as a whole, almost everyone can point to at least ONE SONG by many classic artists that they actually like. Not like now. (Katy Perry? Nickelback? Please....)
Rush, Genesis, REO Speedwagon, Steely Dan and Yes are exceptions. They are uniformly and undeniably loathsome.
So, we asked the hard working office monkeys here to name their favorite songs by a few CLASSIC ROCK artists that randomly popped into our heads. THEN, we asked them to name a Wildcard Song, something very much out of character, or a song by someone they otherwise dislike or dismiss, but when it comes on the radio, they can't help but rock out...
Meatpaper is a wonderful publication out of San Francisco that explores the love and art of meat. So when they called for readers to submit essays on "The Worst Meat I Ever Ate" to be published in their fall 2010 issue (get it here), Rob Miller answered the call (after being nudged by JP to submit). For some reason, Meatpaper passed on Rob's essay, and JP was fired as Rob's literary agent. Whatever the case was for the rejection, here's the unpublished essay:
Or, why I became a temporary vegetarian in Thailand
By Rob Miller
Traveling by motorcycle in Issan, the remote and untouristed northeastern part of Thailand, my friend and I went to the only restaurant in Khong Chiam, a dusty, sleepy town on the Mekong River overlooking Laos. At the only other occupied table were three visibly potted middle-aged Thai men who enthusiastically gestured for us to join them. The gentlemen, the head schoolmaster, the mayor and the area’s government liaison, were red-eyed and reeling. "A feast is in order," one shouted. "It is an honor to entertain you," and they commanded the drowsy staff into action.Read more
Every once in a while, we get missives from the road. Now, our bands do not travel in Gold-plated buses, or fly from show to show in planes with nekked ladies spray painted on them. No, these are working musicians. Emphasis on work.