"...In This Case, They Doth Protest Just Enough..."

Only two things sure, it is said.

Death and taxes.

I'd suggest there's, at least, a third.

There really is no such thing as new.

Semantic distinctions and splitting of hairs notwithstanding, pretty much everything that is, or even has yet to be, is, if researched to the core, merely an evolution of, or variation on, a theme long ago discovered and/or created.

That observation is, of course, fair game for discussion and debate.

But let's save that for another, more existential moment.

Nickelback has, what I think is, a very cool song out now.

Give it a spin, cats and kitties....



Now, regardless of your philosophical predilections, there can be no denying that this piece is as catchy as all giddyup.

But, when you listen past the groove, the beat ripe for tapping of toes and/or fingers and the hey-ay-ay-ay-yeah daring you not sing along and zero in on the lyric, you discover that nestled amongst the aforementioned groove, beat and sing along, like an overlooked Cadbury egg in a gnarl of green plastic grass, is a lyric that can without much convincing be described as "protest".

As in "protesting the shortcomings of society and the cultural implications of said shortcomings, ad nauseum, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all".

So to speak.

And although this song is moving up the airplay charts only at a pace that a fairly alert snail could best, I've been featuring it on my radio show because, like I said, it's catchy as all giddyup.

Protest is profound.

But catchy is cool.

And, in that light, this song qualifies as being both profound and cool.

But not new.

Nigh on fifty years ago, 1962 to be exact, an industry respected, but little known publicly, folk singer named Malvina Reynolds wrote a song lamenting the, then new, nasty habit of atmospheric nuclear testing.

And, in a beautifully poetic fashion, highlighted the potential damage possible to the air we breathe and the rain we danced in from the fallout created by the nuking.

Two years later, in the midst of the British Invasion, The Searchers (of "Love Potion Number Nine" fame) recorded a version of Malvina's song in 1964 Mersey beat/orchestrated style.

It was never a "hit" hit, making it to the top twenty in the UK and the top twenty in the USA.

But it was then, and remains now, a remarkable version of a remarkable piece of work.

Profound.

And catchy as all giddyup.

"...Somebody Heard Them Sing and Said...'Man, That Was Righteous, Brother'...Voila! A Duo Was Born..."

A picture is reputed to be worth a thousand words.

A song, on the other hand, can conjure up a thousand pictures.

Do the math.

This song, along with the thousand plus images conjured, has not only a timeless sound but more than just a few facts coming along for the ride.

It was co-written and produced by Phil Spector whose 50's and 60's pop genius was later overshadowed by his unfortunate habit of playing with loaded guns.

Although the song was recorded by The Righteous Brothers, the focus, and bulk, of the presentation is the baritone work of Brother Bill Medley (later to find further fame and fortune musically helping keep Baby out of the corner, with the assistance of Jennifer Warnes, on "(I've Had) The Time Of My Life" from "Dirty Dancing".)

One of the backup singers on "Lovin Feelin" was a young protege', and later singing partner and wife, of Phil Spector's then A&R guy, Salvatore Bono.

Cher.

And because, in the day, it was believed that a ballad that ran almost four minutes (actual time, 3:45) would never make it past the program director's desk to the station turntables, Spector solved the issue by simply having the label printed 3:05, instead.

And if all of that don't make you wanna close your eyes anymore when he/she kisses your lips, try this on...

As of 1999, the original 1964 Righteous Brothers version of this song has been documented by BMI (Broadcast Music, Inc) as the song that has been played more on radio and/or television than any other song in the 20th Century.

It is, quite simply, a love, a love, a love, a love you don't find every day.

And it was meant to be heard, now and forever, on a turntable at 45RPM.

Like this...

"...Let's Go To The Judges...Now, There's The Real Amateur Hour...."

Being on radio every morning requires certain knowledge.

What's happening and who it's happening to, for example.

For that reason, I am aware of what's been going on this season on Dancing With The Stars.

And even though I've done more than my share of lampooning the celebrity value of the "stars" this last couple of seasons, I've also been pretty vocal about how, in the end, it takes a lot of guts to get up in front of millions of people each week and do that.

All of that said, as I've often said, I don't watch the show.

And while I really do admire (and probably live vicariously though) those folks with the aforementioned guts, I've never made watching the actual show a habit.

For a long time, I just assumed, when I gave it any thought, my lack of watching was the result of having something else to do or watch at the time.

This week I realized why I don't watch the show.

The judges.

Not the judging.

The judges.

Back in a minute.

(CBS) After Chaz Bono's difficult tango to the "Phantom of the Opera" on Monday night, his mom got upset. Very upset. Perhaps she will be relieved that her boy - whose astoundingly equitable personality had been a fine feature of the competition - was finally voted off Tuesday by the grouchy grannies at home.

Monday night, Cher had tweeted in reference to judge Bruno Tonioli's criticisms of her son: "I COULD TEACH HIS LITTLE ARM WAVING ASS SOME MANNERS! Critique CHAZ'S DANCE STYLE, MOVEMENTS ETC,.BUT DON'T MAKE FUN OF MY CHILD ON NAT.TV."

No mom wants to hear her boy referred to with the words: "It was like watching a cute little penguin trying to be a big menacing bird of prey." This had, indeed, been the description Tonioli had offered.

In truth, Bono has clearly been in physical pain, as well as some emotional anguish, as the judges continued to offer him love tougher than any seen in "The Texas Chainsaw Massacre."

This show is clearly cruelty for beauty's sake. These poor people are like beagles who are being held captive in order to test mascara or lipstick. Well, except that the beagles don't get paid.

It was left to Martina McBride to offer a little balance by standing quietly on stage and singing a song about how tough it is when you get cancer. Then, we focused on Bono's pain.

"If you're an overweight woman in this competition losing weight they love you," moaned Cher's boy. "But if you're a overweight guy trying to do this competition and getting in shape, they penalize you for it and call you a penguin."

Some might feel he had a point. No one can joke about overweight women, other than the women themselves. The roly-polyness of men seems to be fair game.

Bono wasn't finished. He felt that Tonioli made him feel like "a fat troll who dances with this beautiful woman every week."


Social networking has created a fascinating world.

A world in which I find myself totally in agreement with, of all people, Cher.

If this program intends to be an authentic competition, with the accompanying good sportsmanship that any reasonable person (read: grownup who doesn't feel the need to be the class clown every week), producers would be well advised to take one of two courses of action.

Either tell the judges to offer their expert, professionally and respectfully offered, critique of the dance techniques and presentations of the competitors and stop trying to "make cute/clever" with what almost ends up being condescension and ridicules disguised as "wit".

Or show these three sitting down wanna be stand-ups the door and find three judges who can keep the low blow bullshit to themselves.

Every single contestant who gives their time, and vulnerability, to this program deserves the respect of being treated with respect.

Yes, even Nancy Grace.

And, yes, if she ever did the show, Kim Kardashian, too.

Chaz Bono, as of last night, simply didn't dance well enough to earn the points necessary to remain in the contest.

But having to endure the patronizing, gratuitous and insulting comments made by the three "experts" who judge that contest in their candy ass attempts to be "funny" demeans not only the contestants, but the spirit of sportsmanship.

Come to think of it, forget the first of the two options.

Show Tonioli the door.

If I want sincerely and unhurtfully ethnic funny, I've got years of Ricky Ricardo available on DVD.

"....Chances Are, This Is What We Get For Constantly Telling Our Kids to 'Grow Up'..."

Listen.

Here that?

It's the sound of envelopes being pushed.

Take a look/listen.

I'll be right here when you get back.


http://new.music.yahoo.com/videos/--223419387


Music being the subjective little scamp it is, I'll take a pass on climbing the slippery slope of offering up any critique here.

You either like this or you don't.

Are offended by it or not.

Will ban your kids from it or not.

Good luck on that, by the way.

I'll offer you simply this.

In another place, in another time, in a completely different context, I think Nicolas Cage called it.

"...well...it ain't Ozzie and Harriet..."

"...Another By The Numbers Country CD?....Hey, It's Independence Day, Pal..."

One sure sign that country music has become part of the mainstream consciousness.

The big budget, nationally syndicated puff piece.

To wit...


(CNN) -- For a good part of her career, Martina McBride's success has largely been due to relying on Nashville songwriters and approaching arrangements in a pop-country fashion.

While hits like "Wild Angels," "A Broken Wing" and "Wrong Again" solidified her position as country radio royalty, McBride's shaking things up these days. She's ditched both of those early crutches and now is exploring writing on her own and injecting a more roots-oriented sound into her instrumentation.

Such is the case with "Eleven," McBride's 11th studio album, which drops today. These days, she's working with new management, has a new label in Republic Nashville and wrote six of the 11 songs that appear on her latest project

As the 45-year-old singer soldiers on, what about this moment inspired change, and how's her own songwriting coming along? CNN spoke with McBride recently as she was prepping for a concert in Minot, North Dakota.

CNN: "Eleven" comes with a lot of professional changes. Why is this?

Martina McBride: You know, sometimes it's just time to shake things up a little bit. When you've been at a certain place and management for 18 years, I just felt like I really need someone around me with some fresh ideas, some new passion and energy.

CNN: As female country musicians age these days, are there pressures to stay youthful? How does one age gracefully in Nashville?

McBride: Oh, I think the same way you age gracefully anywhere else. Females have always had more of a focus on the way they look. No matter what business your in, if you're in the public eye -- whether you're an actor or a rock musician or even head of a corporation, it's always been that way. You just try ... I don't know, I try not to focus on it. I'm still the same voice I had before, and I still have a lot to say.

CNN: "Eleven" was largely written by you -- something you've taken on recently. What's your writing process like?

McBride: It's different every time. Sometimes I'll have an idea or a title. ... I'm still growing as a writer.

One thing I think I bring to the table is having a certain type of lyric, in that I want the song to feel honest and real. I don't do it 365 days a year, so I'm fresh. I also don't know a lot of the rules, which is probably a good thing. For me, it's still about discovery. I'm still in the stage of writing that I'm discovering, getting confidence as a writer and that I do have some talent for it. It's a good discovery at this stage of the game.

CNN: And sometimes songwriters who start out at 20, by 30 they feel like they're all tapped out.

McBride: I grew up admiring Linda Ronstadt, Pat Benatar, Reba (McEntire). I didn't really grow up enamored only with singer-songwriters.

When I moved to Nashville, it wasn't a big deal for me just to find songs by great writers and make them my own. But what I really found with this record was that it's so nice to not have to wait for someone to write something. Obviously, I love every record I've made, but I feel like this record is more authentic to me. I don't know. It's different than just singing a song after it's already been written. I'm excited about that.

CNN: On "Eleven" the first single's called "Teenage Daughters," which is about the trouble they can cause. Did you give your parents any heart attacks growing up?

McBride: Oh, oh, yeah. So far, my daughter is much better than me. I grew up on a farm in really rural Kansas, where there was nothing to do. Out of boredom, the activities we found to do, weren't exactly the best for my parents to go through. But I think the song's about -- the teenage experience and wanting that independence and rebelling against the rule is so common, no matter where you are in the world.

CNN: It seems harder these days to be a teenager.

McBride: It's different. They have a lot of peer pressure. We all did, but they have a cavalier attitude about things. They don't have the same caution about certain things and are more like "whatever, it's not that big a deal."

CNN: You were associated with the pop-country movement of the '90s, but listening to "Eleven" and looking at your recent output, it doesn't seem like you're interested in that anymore.

McBride: It's interesting that you say that. I don't know if I ever stood out to make a particular type of record. Before, I was so dependent on the songs I found and the songs that came in. I was drawn to certain types of songs but I didn't have the luxury of waiting around for years and years. I had a vision of "Eleven" being more organic, more retro, like a '70s rock record. It is less pop.

CNN: On the Grammys, you performed a tribute to Aretha Franklin with Christina Aguilera, Florence Welch, Jennifer Hudson and Yolanda Adams. Are there aspects of pop and rock these days you find intriguing?

McBride: I love Train's new record. And I love One Republic's record. My daughter's really into the Avett Brothers and Mumford & Sons, so I've been listening to them recently. That's a whole new type of thing; I don't know what you'd call that.


Now, let's understand each other here.

Martina McBride is a very nice lady.

And the work that she has done since her graduation from Garth T Shirt kiosk manager to fledgling country pop singer nigh on twenty years ago is deserving of any and all accolades to date and to come.

But, and not that it matters in the grand scheme of things, the premise of these whole "artist finding themselves" articles is disingenuous.

Primarily because it overlooks, or avoids, something inherent in the resume of any popular performer who has reached the place in their careers where they are setting out on that "finding themselves" path.

That, in the beginning of their career, they would have recorded, released and promoted the hell out of the phone book if they thought it would get them notice, airplay and/or any of the attentions that are critical if that career is going to live to a ripe old age.

Jump on the Google and look up, for example, Martina's first album, "The Time Has Come".

You'll find some very nicely performed, right off the Music City assembly line, cookie cutter country pop songs.

Not that there's anything wrong with that.

And while we all deserve a little slack cutting for what we were, as opposed to what we become (who among us doesn't do the cringe face when looking at old hair-dos and/or fashions in pictures, home movies, etc?), that slack translates a little differently when it comes to performers.

Because, in most cases, the "evolution" of the "artist as artist" is in direct, and exact, proportion to the evolution of the "singer as success story".

"...While hits like "Wild Angels," "A Broken Wing" and "Wrong Again" solidified her position as country radio royalty, McBride's shaking things up these days. She's ditched both of those early crutches and now is exploring writing on her own and injecting a more roots-oriented sound into her instrumentation..."

Translation...the success she enjoyed by hobbling around on those "early crutches" has given her the financial freedom to ditch said crutches and "explore, inject and roots orient" her little hoofies to the quick.

And I say, yea, thee, little Martina Mariea Schiff McBride from Sharon, Kansas.

Who would probably be the first person to step up and say she's proud of all the time she spent on those "crutches".

Not to mention doing a little cringe face herself at the notion implied in aforementioned puff piece that she has been struggling all these years to rise above wild angels, fly with two good, and not one broken, wings.

The writer of the piece seems to think that portraying the dues paying portion of the commercial success story as some poetic battle for truth, justice and the "true realization of artistic vision" is as real as it is romantic.

Wrong again.

And every time I read one of these things, I think it's a shame nobody ever pipes up and calls it the crap that it is.

The time has come.

"...Shameless Self Promotion, Volume 2..."

We all, secretly if not overtly, want to be our own bosses.

I wrote this song with a nod to that desire.

This one's for you...and us.