The local chapter of the National Academy of Recording Arts and Sciences announced nominations last week for the 16th Annual Premier Player Awards. Awards are voted on by NARAS members and will be presented on April 5th at The Pyramid.

This year’s Premier Player Awards will salute New Orleans and will present the organization’s Governor’s Award to Crescent City legends The Meters. The North Mississippi Allstars and the University of Mississippi Gospel Choir are among those scheduled to join the Meters as performers. A complete list of nominees follows:

Band: Big Ass Truck, FreeWorld, Lucero, North Mississippi Allstars, Kevin Paige Band, Preston Shannon Band.

Female Vocalist: Joyce Cobb, Jackie Johnson, Susan Marshall Powell, Reba Russell, Ruby Wilson.

Male Vocalist: Jimmy Davis, James Govan, Gary Johns, Kevin Paige, Preston

Producer: Paul Ebersold, Jim Gaines, Jeff Powell, Norbert Putnam, Ross Rice.

Engineer: William Brown, Posey Hedges, Dawn Hopkins, Kevin Houston, Jeff Powell.

Award for Outstanding Achievement: Paul Ebersold, Jim Gaines, North Mississippi Allstars, Sounds Unreel Studio, Three 6 Mafia.

Drums/Percussion: Jim Britt, Cody Dickinson, Harry Peel, Steve Potts, David Skypeck.

Bass: Jackie Clark, Tim Goodwin, Sam Shoupe, Dave Smith, John Williams.

Guitar: Tommy Burroughs, Luther Dickinson, Jack Holder, Preston Shannon, Harold Smith, Brian Overstreet.

Keyboards: Al Gamble, Ross Rice, Rick Steff, Tony Thomas, Charlie Wood.

Brass: Tom Clary, Steve Dolan, Mark Franklin, David Spencer, Scott Thompson.

Woodwinds: Art Edmaiston, Tom Link, Lannie McMillan, Jim Spake, Kirk Smothers.

Strings: Roy Brewer, David Cho, Richard Ford, Susanna Perry Gilmore, Eric Lewis.

Harmonica: Billy Gibson, Lyn Jones, Blind Mississippi Morris, Mark Sallings, Robert “Nighthawk” Tooms.

Choir: Kevin Davidson and the Voices, O’Landa Draper’s Associates, Orange Mound Choir, Billy Rivers & Angelic Voices of Faith, Tennessee Mass Choir, University of Mississippi Gospel Choir.

Songwriter: Nancy Apple, Cory Branan, Jimmy Davis, John Kilzer, Kevin Paige, Ross Rice.

Live DJ/Turntable Artist: Michael “Boogaloo” Boyer, DJ Aramis, DJ Slice, Devin Steele.

Rapper: Al Kapone, Gangsta Boo, Lois Lane, Playa Fly, Project Pat, Three 6 Mafia.

Premier Newcomer Award: Cory Branan, Dust for Life, Katrice, Richard Johnston, Kirk Smithart.

Premier Music Teacher Award: Jonah Ellis, Tom Link, Ricky Richardson, David Spencer, Jackie Thomas.

Award for Community Service: George Klein, Memphis & Shelby County Music Commission’s Musicians Health Care Plan, Deanie Parker, Rock N’ Soul Museum, WEVL-FM 90.

John Prine

The Keith Sykes Song-writer Showcase gears up again this week with a bang as the best of the “New Dylans,” John Prine, joins Sykes and guest Roger Cook at the Black Diamond. The show starts at 8 p.m. on Thursday, February 22nd, with a $15 cover.

After having to cancel their last advertised gig at Young Avenue Deli to open for the North Mississippi Allstars in Chicago, Lucero is back at the Hi-Tone Café on Saturday, February 24th, with the Kansas City band Secret Liquor Cure. — Chris Herrington

The Circuit Riders, a group of talented youngsters from Oxford town, claim that their music is a hybrid of Southern rock and Americana, but I just don’t buy it. Their song “Hat Giver” begins like a tom-tom-happy Led Zeppelin (lyrically substituting mermaids on the Mississippi for Zep’s fantastical characters from Tolkien’s Middle Earth) then smoothly morphs into a rootsy mid-Seventies Stones rip-off. The twangy, jangly ballad “Around the Bend” sounds a lot like an unlikely duet between Uncle Tupelo and the Revolver-era Beatles. Their recording of an incredibly dated Faces cover, “Glad and Sorry,” begins with the spoken indictment: “We need everybody to support local music.” The irony is almost painful. But one thing is for certain, the kids can play the fool out of their instruments. They also have a good ear for intricate and eclectic arrangements. Hopefully they will, with time, stop using their influences as crutches and develop a sound all their own. Still, it’s great to watch young bands develop, and they are certainly worth checking out. Do so when they play the Hi-Tone Café Thursday, February 22nd. The Hi Tone also features C&W powerhouse The Derailers on Friday and the utterly amazing acoustic roots mob The Asylum Street Spankers on Sunday. Go Hi-Tone. That’s one heck of a weekend!

The Bluff City Backsliders are a skronky, sloppy, glorious mess of an old-time Memphis jug band. Between Jason Freeman’s throaty (Gus Cannon only wished) vocals, John (Lucero) Stubblefield’s plucky bass, Mike (Fatback Jubilee) Graber’s manic mandolin, Clint (Mash-o-Matic) Wagoner’s sawing fiddle, and Jack (Professor Elixir) Adcock’s awesome scratch board and spit-drenched jug-work this Memphis superband can deliver the soulful, spirited, and often very funny sounds that first made Beale Street famous. Throw in some zippy kazoos, a mean dobro, and effective, minimal drum-work and you have the swampy recipe for a nasty hangover. They are playing 8-11 p.m. every Wednesday at Beale Street’s Blues Hall. Ah, at last — something authentic on the street that Mr. Handy built. — Chris Davis

Props should go to Clutch for longevity, especially since all nine of their releases have borne a different record label imprint. Their latest, Pure Rock Fury, is on Atlantic records, and while, despite the title, some fans may complain that Clutch doesn’t rock as hard as in their early days, the band goes beyond that to contribute to the redefinition of the term “heavy.” This fine album demands a journey back through the Clutch catalog to witness the evolution of a band fusing hard core and hard rock through roots music, jazz, and go-go. Clutch will be at the New Daisy Theatre on Tuesday, February 27th, with Corrosion of Conformity, Spirit Caravan, and Clearlight. — Pat Mitchell

Standing in front of the Peabody Hotel 10 years ago, Widespread Panic guitarist and vocalist Michael Houser phoned his parents and told them that he just found out he was going to be a father for the first time. He was in town to perform in a Panic show at the now defunct Antenna club. Several months later he had his first son, Waker, and in May of this year his first daughter Eva was born.

“That’s probably my biggest Memphis connection, finding out here that I was going to be father for the first time. We (the band) all love the Memphis shows. We love coming here,” Houser says in an afternoon telephone interview from Louisville, Kentucky, where the band was preparing to give a show at the Louisville Palace.

“The music history of Memphis is important to everybody,” says Houser. Widespread Panic plays in Memphis to a sold-out house, along with the North Mississippi All-stars, Friday and Saturday, November 24th and 25th for their first Mid-South Coliseum concerts. Houser says he regrets that the weather is too inhospitable to play at the Mud Island Amphitheater, one of his favorite venues, which is becoming too cramped for their ever increasing roll of fans.

The Athens, Georgia-based band plays a unique Southern influenced brand of rock-and-roll, which is also rooted in blues, country, and jazz at times. It is impossible to put a label on their style of play. Some group them together with groove bands such as the Grateful Dead and Phish. The in-your-face guitar rifts from Houser and John “J.B.” Bell (guitar), coupled with the speed-demon keyboard work of John “Jo Jo” Herman, and the driving bass of Dave Schools, all laying on top of a thumping bed of percussion laid down by Domingo “Sonny” Ortiz (congas and varied percussion) and the tireless drum work of Todd Nance is enough send the crowd rolling into the aisles.

“You can’t really compare us to Phish. I think they are just totally a different style of music,” explains Houser. Although he is right that the musical styles between Phish and Panic are different, it is the eagerness of both bands to stray from the music sheets and explore new territory that links them in some minds.

When asked if the demise of Phish might bring the Panic a bigger following, Houser responds, “Well, it’s just like when Jerry [Garcia] died. I don’t think people wake up one morning and say, ‘Hey, well I really liked the Dead, but now I am going to start following the Panic because the Grateful Dead aren’t playing anymore.’ I don’t expect to wake up in a different world tomorrow because Phish isn’t playing anymore.”

Pollstar rated Widespread Panic 51st in the magazine’s top 100 touring bands of 1999. That came without MTV hype or consistent top-40 radio play. “We live off of word of mouth,” says Houser, whose band’s open taping policy sends digital copies of their concerts streaming over the Internet.

“I really don’t have any problem with sites like Napster who give out discs for free. I can see how a band like Metallica, who relies mostly on record sales to make a living, might have a problem with it, but our fans are going to buy our C.D.’s anyway, even if they have all the live shows, or if they were available off the Internet for free.” Houser says that the band sells about 100,000 to 200,000 copies of each disc — low levels by industry standards. However, what they lack in C.D. revenue is more than made up for during their tireless 100-plus shows yearly. They set a one-day New Orleans Jazz and Heritage Festival record in 1999, attracting 63,000 concertgoers to their show. Their 1998 Athens, Georgia Light Fuse and Get Away CD release party set the outdoor concert record with over 100,000 people in attendance.

Houser, heavily influenced by the guitar rock of the Seventies, recently had one of his dreams fulfilled when they when they were joined on stage by Robbie Krieger of the Doors for renditions of Light My Fire and Stop Breakin’ Down, in Los Angeles last November. When asked what music he is listening to these days, Houser laughs, “I listen mostly to my kids! I don’t really listen to much rock these days . . . I listen to a lot of ethnic music and classical. I usually just tune it to N.P.R. (National Public Radio) and listen to whatever they throw at me.”

He explains that most of the band is married and several of them have kids now. “It’s always hard to leave my family, but it’s what we do,” he continues. “And we have kind of grown up on the road. It’s what we love.” His wife and children join him for some of the more interesting venues, including their European tour last year.

Panic will spend this Thanksgiving on the road in Nashville while Houser’s wife and children will be having dinner with her parents at his home in Athens. “We [the band and crew] will all have a Thanksgiving dinner together in Nashville while getting ready for the Memphis shows. We always have big Thanksgiving dinners together since we are always on the road.”

Widespread played a Memphis show at the Orpheum in 1994 during the night of the infamous ice storm. “We thought briefly about canceling the show, because we just didn’t think anybody would be able to make it, but our manger insisted we go on . . . and we got ready to play, and a lot of people had made it through the ice, which was pretty fearsome that night. That was a good night,” Houser says. “Memphis was one of the earliest cities where we could go and expect a crowd, having a good time. We had some good times at the Antenna Club, that’s where I told the rest of the band that I was going to have my first child.”

The Panic comes to Memphis on this tour with a new soundman who had not even heard about the Panic a month ago. They completely replaced their sound and light crew recently, reacting to feedback from the fans. “That was our whole motivation for changing. We were getting a lot of comments about the sound. People were writing and calling saying ‘I can’t hear this.’” Houser says that the recent feedback from fans indicate that the sound problems have been cleared up. The staff at the Widespread Panic office, the Black Cat crew, peruse the multiple Internet chatrooms and message boards dedicate to the Panic, reading the fans’ comments and relaying them to the band.

Widespread Panic started a new recording project which they will focus on beginning in January at John Keane’s studio in Athens. They have some songs already recorded, “but you never know what’s going to happen. Sometimes you end up with something totally different than what you started with.” Houser says the production of the new album shouldn’t delay their Spring 2001 tour. The album is a collaborative work with the songs written by all of the band members.

“We usually end up with too many songs,” Houser says. “We usually have more songs than the discs allow.” Panic Producer John Keane’s input is crucial at this stage of the creative process. Another Joyous Occasion, Panic’s latest release, came out earlier this year and featured live cuts of the band joined by the Dirty Dozen Brass Band from New Orleans.

“Come with your party hat on,” he says. “Each Memphis show has been special to us in different ways,” explains Houser. They have certainly been special to the Panic crowd lucky enough to see them in Memphis. One thing for certain, when the Coliseum lights go down Friday night and the Panic sound rolls out, we are all in for another joyous occasion.

Jerry Schilling, president of the Memphis and Shelby County Music
Commission, recently completed his first full year in the office. With a new
strategic plan and budget approved for year two, Schilling sat down with us to
discuss the Commission’s accomplishments and plans for the future, the criticism
it has received, and the status of the local music industry.

What are your general feelings on your first year on the job?

I feel very good about it. I felt very strongly that I was the right person for
this job because of my contacts in the industry on the West Coast and because
I’m from here. I think you need to be both. I felt that an industry person, a
national industry person who really didn’t understand Memphis, would have a hard
time being productive here. To come back to Memphis and be president of the
music commission — it doesn’t get any better for me. But I needed to learn
Memphis as a music city today– not the history part, I know that. I really
wanted to find out what the current musicians were doing here and what they
needed. There was a lot of organizing, finding an office, paperwork. There was
so much of that during the first year, just getting started

The idea of our health care initiative [a program providing health insurance for
local working musicians, the music commission’s primary project during year one]
is that I didn’t want to have this successful looking music commission on one
side and the music community on the other side, and the two never met. It was my
first way of saying “we’re here for you and we’re going to work on this.” But
now it’s imperative that we concentrate strictly on the music. Now when I say
strictly, we won’t forget about health care, but it’s not going to be our main
objective this year.

What do you perceive as the role of the music commission? What need doesit
fill that wasn’t already being filled?

I feel that there is a basic role that Mayor Herenton and Mayor Rout set the
commission up to fill: All things musical should flow through the music
commission. The music commission is not in competition with any other
organization here. Quite to the contrary, we’re a support system. We’ve already
been working very closely with NARAS. Jon Hornyak [executive director of the
local NARAS chapter] is on our commission. NARAS is part of our health care
program. We want anyone with music related activities to come to us. We’re sort
of a clearinghouse.

But besides working with existing music entities, the ultimate goal of the music
commission is to bring production into Memphis. The bottom line is that we need
Memphis to be an economically sound music city. We need to bring people in.
There’s a lot going on here, a lot of signings. Press is one way we have to get
our message out. But before we went national and international, I wanted to have
the city behind us and at the same time I wanted to be out there seeing what
acts we had that, if we brought in national A&R people, these are acts that
would have a chance to get signed on a national level. One of the things we’ve
been working on since I got here was I wanted to bring music-related conventions
into town. We’re having a convention in June, the first convention of the
International Black Broadcasters Association, and we’ll have the top record and
TV executives in the country here. We need to build a sound music industry here,
but that’s going to take a lot of time.

Let’s talk about some specific issues. We might as well start with the
health care plan. What’s the extent of the involvement so far, in terms of how
many people have inquired about the program and how many people have signed up?

We have 17 people signed up and 100 plus inquiries. [Note: Since this interview
took place 4 more people have been signed on to the plan] We learned a lot those
first few months: that our standard of 51 percent [percentage of income one
would have to gain from music in order to be eligible] was too high for most
musicians working here. So a lot of people that originally inquired didn’t fit
either our requirements or the MEMPHIS Plan [health care plan run by the Church
Health Center] requirements. We’re lowering our requirements. For example, in
the MEMPHIS Plan musicians have to work at least 20 hours a week [to be
eligible], and I’ve been able to convince them that rehearsal time is work,
lugging stuff around is work. That’s why we’re going to have a new campaign, so
hopefully some of the people who inquired will come back. We were lucky enough
to raise $110,000, so we have enough money to pay the premiums for musicians
that are on it and still advertise so we can open this thing up.

Wasn’t the originally stated goal was 200-300 people?

We figured 100-200 at most. If we get 100 people I think we’re successful. If we
only get 17 people? I could still be happy about that.

Let’s talk a little about outreach. You obviously read the article in the
CA where local musicians spoke about the commission. One of them said that he
didn’t think a lot of local musicians were really aware of the commission. Are
you concerned at all about any perceived cliquishness?

Good question. The person who said that was [Pawtuckets member and Madjack
Records co-owner] Mark McKinney, who I had a good meeting with last week. It was
a surprise to me, and yet I still understand it. But I was on TV 20 hours last
year. I was in all the print media and a great deal of radio, where I talked
about the Music Commission and what it was doing. And the press has been good to
us. But saying that I’ve done a lot of press is one thing. I’ve tried to analyze
that since that CA article. Maybe people know who I am, but they don’t know
enough about the commission. So I want to involve the commission more. I want
the commission to have a face and voice out there, and it can’t be just one
person. As far as cynicism, I know there’s been a history of music commissions
in Memphis that goes back 30 something years. I think, as a whole, music
commissions are suspect. We don’t have a great track record here. But my whole
life has been about music. I understand why, as far as the government and
musicians, there would be skepticism, but I’m not that guy. Everybody just has
to look at my history. IÕve lived with artists all of my life. That’s why I came
back here. What I think is important is that the government, city and county,
didn’t just say, “let’s have a music commission,” but they’re funding it.
They’ve given us the money to get started here. And that says to me, and I hope
to the musicians, “your government finally cares about you enough to do
something.” But now we need the musicians to come in and tell us how we can do
that. And we’ll offer things as well. [Commission member] Knox Phillips and I
plan on setting up a musician’s advisory committee.

People use the term “the music community.” But don’t you think it might
be more accurate that there are different communities, plural. Isn’t that an
issue for the commission? There are people who are more centered on the Beale
Street establishment versus people playing mostly at rock clubs in town– like
the Hi-Tone or Young Avenue Deli– versus people in the hip-hop community, and
maybe there’s not a natural overlap there?

Absolutely. That’s one of the things that makes this job so awesome is that we
have to represent all music here. I think that, as far as the diversity, if we
want Memphis music to be self-sufficient, then we’ve got to have the rising tide
theory. I read an article before I got here where Isaac Hayes said he’d like to
come back and record in Memphis, but people here don’t talk. But I’m finding
when I sit down to talk to people here, I’m not getting a lot of nos. But saying
that, I think we can’t ignore, and I think we need to support as much as we
can– and I may be hitting on a nerve here–what’s happening in Memphis, big
time, with hip hop and rap. I don’t want in the 21st century for us to make the
same mistake we made 50 years ago. So, I don’t think that as president of the
music commission I can go out and promote gangster rap, but I don’t think I can
ignore it either. I read in the Los Angeles Times that Memphis was number three
in terms of rap production in the country and number five in terms of consuming
it. So I made it real clear to the commission– and nobody had a problem with
this– that if I was representing all music in Memphis, I also had to represent
hip hop and rap. It’s a delicate balance, I think. If there were two things I
could point to that have the most potential here, it would be gospel and rap.

Your written list of goals includes something called the Memphis Studio
Alliance. What is that?

I could bring some of the top A&R people in here, but I’d like to have a
showcase of some of the top unsigned bands, so I think that the studio alliance
can help the commission know who’s out there, what’s going on, who has some
potential, and we’ll try to organize that with all the studios. And then, from
time to time, have a showcase here, maybe sponsored by the studios and the
commission, to bring in the A&R people. Let’s call the studio alliance a way to
bring back the old Crossroads [music showcase], which I never saw but I learned
about. I’m not concerned about getting people here the first time, I’m worried
about them coming back. I know they can have a good time eating barbecue, going
down to Beale Street. But these people are extremely busy. Will they come back?
With the talent here and if we can find a way for the studios to present that
talent, we can get them back. The other part of the studio alliance is where if
band A goes to House of Blues and that’s not the place for them to record, then
we can direct them to Ardent or somewhere instead of having them go to Nashville
or Los Angeles. And people I’ve talked to so far love the idea.

But what about the failure of Crossroads and what that means for future
attempts for showcases?

My understanding was that it started off small and very selective, and that’s
why it produced results. Then I think that after that success, it got bigger and
became more of a beer bash rather than a selective event to try and get artists
shown. Again, this is second-hand knowledge, but I’ve talked with people who
have been involved with it, and that’s the understanding I have.

The initial set of goals [in September of 1999] expressed a lot of concern
over the concert situation in Memphis; concern that I’d say is warranted. Let me
read back to you one of your comments from those written goals and have you
respond: “I feel strongly that any plan about Memphis music must address our
current concert problems. Managers, agents, and promoters have become fearful of
the Memphis market, even though, logistically, we are right on their routes.”
Could you elaborate on that?

I think that’s one of the things we have to change our attitude about. If I’m a
manager on the West coast and I have a band that’s on the charts and the band
needs to tour and needs to sell tickets, I’m going to bypass Memphis, and that’s
a shame.

Why?

Since I’ve been here, I’ve seen three major concerts canceled. But even the
shows that I went to, like Paul Simon and Bob Dylan– to have that few people is
just amazing. You wouldn’t be able to get tickets in L.A. You’d have to get the
third show. What’s the reason? What people have told me, me being new to the
local area, was that the problem is Tunica. So the first thing I did was I went
to Tunica and started up a relationship there.

Sure, Tunica is an issue in terms of our concert situation. But the
casinos are still pretty limited in the type of music they bring. It’s country,
it’s blues, and it’s oldies. In terms of contemporary rock music, hip-hop, even
younger-oriented R&B, the casino area isn’t an issue, but yet Memphis still has
a concert problem in those areas.

I agree with what you’re saying. Our numbers are off.

Is it an issue of discretionary income and rising ticket prices?

Well, all of the above. I think that rising ticket prices are an issue here. I
think the ticket prices we get are viable in L.A. and New York. But the income
here isn’t the same. Also, I really think we miss Bob Kelly. He knew how to
promote. I don’t see a lot of excitement. But the music commission has to be
involved in the concert scene. My experience in that area is one of the things
that got me here. But another problem is that people think they’re coming into a
one million person market, but in the concert business it’s probably only a half
a million market, because I don’t see as much [racial crossover] as on a
national level. I can’t think of any acts that have come here lately who have
gotten a mix of these million people.

How important is the health of the concert scene, in terms of national
acts coming through town, to the health of the local music scene?

I think it’s very important. Acts coming through town, it’s a real good
indicator of the music business in a town, one indicator anyway. But if you’re
trying to establish a good music business and your concert business is spotty,
that hurts. Again, all of this is a rising tide theory. Within the industry,
Memphis is a tough nut to crack. If you’ve got a hot act that’s building
something, you don’t want to take a chance of going into a market that has a
history of cancellations or no sell-outs. When I really think about cities that
have a good music industry, I think you see the concert business going
hand-in-hand. So, for that reason alone, it’s very important.

The commission’s original mission statement mentioned building an industry
that puts as much of a mark on the 21st century as it did the 20th. Do you think
that’s even possible, given that the historical circumstances that produced
those earlier music explosions don’t really exist anymore?

Well, I think all that we can do is to support an infrastructure that allows
creativity to flow. Like with health care, one thing that does is give musicians
more freedom. You set up the structure and you support it. But you still have in
this area, this 200-mile area around here, a unique diversification of people
and music. I think that uniqueness brings about a creative explosion. You’re
talking about blues, then Sun, then Stax. And we’re all sitting around thinking,
“what will be the next thing for Memphis?” But maybe it’s already happening.
Third in production of rap music in the country without even trying to be.
Without even acknowledging it. You never know where it’s coming from.
Rock-and-roll never knew where it was coming from. There’s no manufacturing of
success in this business.

But don’t you think that people have unrealistic expectations for the
present and future of Memphis music based upon what’s happened in the past?

I hope not, because I don’t think that’s the way to go about it. You do this
because you love the music and you should want to be self-supporting. I don’t
think in the real music world, certainly not in Memphis, you only go after it to
get on the charts. n

At the Dixie Chicks concert Saturday at the Pyramid, country legend Willie Nelson opened the show with a quick, rambling greatest hits set obviously geared towards a crowd that probably wasn’t very familiar with his huge catalogue. So Nelson stuck to obvious fare like “Blue Eyes Crying in the Rain,” “Always on My Mind,” and his de facto theme song, “On the Road Again.” Playing before a backdrop that promoted his Web site (www.willienelson.com, if you were wondering) and with a seven-piece band that included bass, harmonica, piano (looked like his sister Bobbie), two percussionists, and two additional guitars, this was classic Nelson– braided ponytails, red bandana, and red, white, and blue guitar strap.

Nelson closed his set with a mini-tribute to two of the few American musicians whose stature rivals his own, offering up versions of Hank Williams’ “Jambalaya” and “My Bucket’s Got a Hole In It,” and the Elvis-identified “Just Because.” And, speaking of the King, Nelson tossed red bandanas to the crowd with the frequency that Vegas-era Elvis used to toss scarves.

Nelson’s set seemed a little off, as if the weirdness of his being an opening act and the musically unfriendly arena atmosphere were cramping his style. In this context, the Dixie Chicks put on a better show, in fact, one of the best arena shows I’ve seen in a long time. The rootsy pop band played an 18-song set and two-song encore before an adoring sell-out crowd of dolled-up dixie chicks and the guys who tagged along. Live, they confirmed two of my previously held beliefs: That they’re a lot better on the up-tempo pop stuff than the slow ones and harder country songs, and that although their records are merely decent, this is about the most invigorating and culturally righteous really popular pop music around today.

Cynics and lazy critics grouse that the band is a country music Spice Girls, but, as this performance made clear, the world that produced country icons past isn’t the same one that produced the Dixie Chicks, and this band speaks to and for their female, suburban fan base in as honest, direct, and engaging a manner as you could hope.

Opening the show with their best single, the not-ready-to-settle-down anthem “Ready to Run” and closing the dopier sexual liberation manifesto “Sin Wagon,” this isn’t your grandmother’s country music, and I say good for them. Glammed-up, moving freely around the stage, and leading their all-male band with the musical skill critics like to gloss over, the show leaned heavily on their two multi-platinum albums, and if neither of those records is quite ready for the time capsule, the show’s succession of engaging and recognizing hits — even to a non-fan like me — proved that this band has a pretty good greatest hits album in their future.

After a brief pause, the band opened their encore by surprising the crowd with lead singer Natalie Maines playing from the concert floor at the back of the hall and sisters Martie Seidel (violin) and Emily Robison (mandolin) playing from the rafters on opposite ends of the Pyramid. The band played, “Goodbye Earl,” their controversial hit about a woman who murders her abusive husband. The band then returned to the stage for a show-closing crowd sing-along of its own de facto theme song, “Wide Open Spaces,” sending everybody home happy.

(You can write Chris Herrington at herrington@memphisflyer.com)

“F*** Chicken”

They spell it all wrong, but Rhino’s I Love Bar-B-Q was made for Memphis in May.

by CHRIS DAVIS

“Well I says north side, south side, east side, west. I know where the barbecue’s the best

I ain’t gonna tell you, cause here’s the point

It took me too long to find the joint.”

— “I Love Barbecue,”

The Guy Brothers and Orchestra

Oh sure, people take a lot of pride in their gumbos. They boast about their chili, their tamales, their chili-tamales, and their old noni’s special spaghetti sauce. Stupid people. Everybody knows that’s all small potatoes. It takes a lip-smacking pile of shredded shoulder or a rack of tongue-tickling ribs to get the fussy-foodie’s splendorphins pumping, YO.

Barbecue can generate an unprecedented amount of goodwill, but it can also ignite bitter feuds. Perfectly civil and otherwise upstanding ladies and gentlemen will forego debate entirely, roll up their starched sleeves, and take to the sweltering streets brawling like drunken guttersnipes over issues like, “Chopped or Pulled?” We Westerners have behaved in this irrational fashion since a group of seafaring Spanish roughnecks discovered that certain Native Americans liked to slow-roast their meats over an open flame — a technique they called “barbacoa.”

In this modern world, the question of who deals in the dopest ‘cue is infinitely debatable since the dish changes drastically from state to state, town to town, and in some cases block to block. In Virginia and the Carolinas, barbecue consists of roasted shoulder chopped and mixed with a thin (wussified if you ask a true Southerner) vinegar sauce. Texas barbecue is almost all beef ribs or brisket, and the fire it is cooked over is fueled by hickory, mesquite, or oak wood only — no charcoal allowed. Kansas City is famous for its chargrilled spareribs and burned-to-a-cinder brisket pieces (they call ’em brownies; we call ’em yuck). From ribs to shoulder to brisket; from family gathering to political event; from coast to coast and from time immemorial, barbecue has been the unquestioned king of not-so-fine-dining. And Memphis, Tennessee, the home of the blues and birthplace of rock-and-roll is Mecca, the Holy See of sweet, smoky hawg-flesh. We rule the rib-roost. Amen. None of the above information has been lost on the good folks at Rhino, whose compilation I Love Bar-B-Q smokes, top-to-bottom.

Do you like jazz? Garage rock? R&B, straight-up blues? Do you like barbecue? Oh, you know that you love it all, and Rhino’s late ’99 release I Love Bar-B-Q has plenty to go around, and slaw to boot. It should be declared by Mayor W.W. the official soundtrack of the barbecue festival. Not only does the disk feature 14 amazing tracks (and 2 lame-O cuts) dedicated to the big yummy, its liner notes are packed with enough information to make even the least experienced smoker sound like the pit-boss of the party. A brief history of barbecue is accompanied by helpful hints from rib raconteurs and plenty of hunger-inducing illustrations. If you are the kind of geek who actually reads such things, you’ll discover that apple wood makes the pig taste slightly sweet and that pecan wood makes it taste nutty. The liners also suggest that hickory wood makes the pig taste like bacon, but we somehow suspect that’s because most bacon is hickory-smoked.

Though most of the CD sounds like it was recorded inside a bucket, the weird production values hardly seem to matter. This disk was intended to be cranked up only on nights when the you-know-what’s in the ground, the beer’s on ice, and all your rowdy friends are coming over. With swinging saxophones and meaningful lyrics such as “neckbones and hot sauce” (repeated ad infinitum), this greasy offering delivers everything it promises, minus the indigestion.

Can you beat rhymes like “Way down in Harlem there’s a place called Pete’s shortly after midnight where you get your eats, the kids all gather because they’d rather roll up their sleeves, put on their bibs, and have a mess of barbecue ribs”? To hell with tired tunes like “Louie, Louie.” “Riffin’ at the Bar-B-Q,” “Pork Chops,” “Barbecue Any Old Time,” and “Hot Barbecue” are all obscure gems that should be elevated to the venerable position of required party-time listening. Only the unrepentantly awful “TV Barbecue” and the pretty darn bad “Beale Street Barbecue” mar this otherwise noble endeavor.

You can e-mail Chris Davis at davis@memphisflyer.com.