bloodshot records: summer and fall

(Bloodshot Records, my beloved outlaw country indie record label out of Chicago, is celebrating their 17th anniversary of releasing consistently spectacular records this upcoming weekend, and though I’ll be otherwise occupied down here in the Triangle, the next couple of days on the blog will be devoted to Bloodshot and how much they kick ass….

a love letter to bloodshot records

(Bloodshot Records, my beloved outlaw country indie record label out of Chicago, is celebrating their 17th anniversary of releasing consistently spectacular records this upcoming weekend, and though I’ll be otherwise occupied down here in the Triangle, the next couple of days on the blog will be devoted to Bloodshot and how much they kick ass….

just leather jackets and noise

I will sell this photo to the highest cowpunk band bidder for the cover of their next album. Because it needs to be on the front of somebody’s noisy, twangy record, doesn’t it?

bands start up each and every day

Those of you who have known me for a long time know that I can be, how shall we say — passive-aggressive with my hair. (Let us all stop and remember the Epic Vodka-Fueled Hair Massacre of Graduation Week 2002 fondly.) I had a really bad week, so now I have pink hair. (And, on…

two sentence reviews of new albums i listened to in august

Two sentence reviews, August, mix of local and non, etc etc etc: The Light Pines — Into the Night: I’m not sure why Chapel Hill indie rockers the Light Pines are giving away their brand new 20 track album — of trippy electronic indie rock and distorted vocals and fucking amazing drumming — for free…

worth getting up for: august

August was pretty well a spectacular shitshow of epic proportions, but there were a few good things. Worth getting up for in August: surprise last minute sets from Micah Schnabel; the Cowboy, just in general, because I’m stupid fond of him; vintage dresses on Etsy; advances from Bloodshot records; working with the Bottom String; big…

rock me like a hurricane

I like to think that in 30 years, some 20-something woman will love my photos of the Cowboy the way that I love Elliot Landy’s photos of Rick Danko.