Oxford Americana
Almost everything in Oxford American magazine's annual music issue is better than almost anything else you will read about music this year. Better still, most of this particular issue of the self-described "Southern magazine of good writing" consists of some very good writing about the 26 performers whose tracks appear on the wonderful mix CD that accompanies the issue. Which means you not only can not only read entertaining and thoughtful pieces on everyone from Thelonious Monk and Percy Mayfield to Van Dyke Parks and Iris Dement, but you can also listen to them at the same time. You will perhaps have not heard the music of Eldridge Holmes, Sandy Posey, or the Rev. Charles Jackson. But after you read about their lives and hear their music, you will be inclined to further research.
Some samples:
The worst marketing firm in the world put Dan Hicks and His Hot Licks together by committee—that's the only possible explanation for a San Francisco band in 1968 taking their inspiration from Glenn Miller's vocal group, the Modernaires: 'You know what the kids want today? Big-band group harmonies and cowboy songs! No drummer, though, and no electric instruments. We'll sell a million!'—"Dan Hicks & His Hot Licks," by David SmayFewer than twelve hours later, everybody was back in the studio to start in on what Dylan called 'Like a Woman.' The lyrics, once again, needed work: on several early takes, Dylan sang disconnected lines and semi-gibberish. He was unsure about what the person described in the song does that is just like a woman, rejecting 'shakes,' 'wakes,' and 'makes mistakes.'—"Mystic Nights: The Making of 'Blonde on Blonde' in Nashville, Tennessee," by Sean Wilentz
I don't get it. Who doesn't love a good yodel? For one thing, there's the spelling challenge.—"American Yawp: Doddley Dew Dee Dowm Woddle-y Dee D'doodle Yo Day Eedel-y Doo Doo," by Roy Blount, Jr.
Fred Neil was prickly. Fred Neil, like a lot of human beings, wanted to be left alone. His career had no ecstatic heights and no hysterical blowouts. Well, one time he broke a guitar string and walked offstage; and sometimes he didn't show up for gigs. That's about it.—"Fred Neil," by Mike Powell