In our current age--that is these terrifying last few weeks of Muskocracy--it's especially good to remember the wonder of a world writ small. Not everything has to be about huge numbers (of dollars, or corruption, or case production). Enter one of my annual favorite events, the Garagiste Wine Festival. This year we were fortunate enough to attend Friday's "Rare and Reserve Kick-Off Party," even more kicky as it featured a buffet of Cajun delights from Clean Slate Wine Bar. Chef Melissa Scrymgeour rocks it, even at the catering level, especially as she's sure to feature something for those who don't do meat (in Cajun that's spelled p-o-r-k). This night it was Gumbo Z'herbes, rich, redolent, and full of everything that grew green. This repast was perfect ballast for an evening of serious wine tasting.

Sunday, February 9, 2025
The Glories of Another Garagiste
In our current age--that is these terrifying last few weeks of Muskocracy--it's especially good to remember the wonder of a world writ small. Not everything has to be about huge numbers (of dollars, or corruption, or case production). Enter one of my annual favorite events, the Garagiste Wine Festival. This year we were fortunate enough to attend Friday's "Rare and Reserve Kick-Off Party," even more kicky as it featured a buffet of Cajun delights from Clean Slate Wine Bar. Chef Melissa Scrymgeour rocks it, even at the catering level, especially as she's sure to feature something for those who don't do meat (in Cajun that's spelled p-o-r-k). This night it was Gumbo Z'herbes, rich, redolent, and full of everything that grew green. This repast was perfect ballast for an evening of serious wine tasting.
Wednesday, January 29, 2025
A Review of Neko Case's "The Harder I Fight the More I Love You"
Given she’s enchanted by fairy tales, it’s only fitting that Neko Case’s memoir The Harder I Fight the More I Love You leaves its readers following breadcrumbs tossed in a dark forest. Sure, many of the typical milestones of the rock ’n’ roll book get visited—childhood record purchases (Best of Blondie, “We’ve Got the Beat” 45), the agony and ecstasy of the road (on bad sound systems: “Your voice sounds like it’s being piped through a thrift store whale’s carcass into a pirate’s wet diaper. Ahoy, bitch!”), the tease and sleaze of a failed major label signing. But don’t come to the book expecting an album blow-by-blow or much dirt or gossip. This is really a book about art—how and why we make it and need it. That involves digging, a care to ever reconsider the past, a drive to outrun whatever hunts and haunts us, from the Green River Killer to familial trauma. And a hope to be fiercely feminist—at one point she rightfully laments, “How do women have any space left inside us with all the shit we swallow?”
Care to read the rest then do so at the California Review of Books.
Review also posted at the Santa Barbara Independent on February 5, 2025.
Wednesday, January 1, 2025
A Review of "A Few Words in Defense of Our Country: The Biography of Randy Newman" by Robert Hilburn
A tunesmith with a con, not a song, in his heart, Randy Newman is a quintessential American composer. And like America, what a bill of goods Newman sells us: racist rednecks and drop-the-bomb political science, feel my pain anthems and a testy Old Testament God.
He gets away with singing from the viewpoint of these twisted characters for a slew of reasons. Despite a fiercely appreciative fan base, he’s never been able to sell himself; flying outside the radar of Top 40 has freed him from attacks from the irony-impaired, except for his one hit, an infamy that was, uh, short-lived. (His best known song, “You’ve Got a Friend in Me,” beloved heart of the Toy Story films, never got released as a single, fyi.)
But those who are in the know get to know people they might never have otherwise. His lyrics, despite the humor that mostly means we laugh ’cause we don’t know what else to do while squirming, give voice to those we’d rather not hear from, like the sweet promises of the slave trader in “Sail Away,” the N-word dropping titular Southerner in “Rednecks.” But the true dignity these characters get are from the tunes. From a family of film composers, and multiply nominated for Oscars himself, Newman invests a cinematic quality to his melodies, providing each song with a kind of back-story.
A Few Words in Defense of Our Country, Robert Hilburn’s new bio of Newman, means to make the case for Newman as one of the great artists of our time. Throughout the book he interpolates encomiums from esteemed figures, and he kicks that off with none other than Dylan himself (he’s a Nobel Prize winner, you know). Hilburn is not here to bury Newman but to praise him, setting up with his prologues a two-pronged attack—Newman as prescient, penetrating American Jeremiah, sagely realizing the root of our national original sin is racism, and Newman as brilliantly funny.
Care to read the rest then do so at the California Review of Books.