So Luke Bryan has his own Yankee Candle now, according to this bit of marketing art.
The official description is "vanilla bourbon," but we like to think that the ideal "Luke Bryan" aroma would contain subtle notes of sweat, baby powder, and white zinfandel.
Now, what if other current mainstream country stars got their own Yankee Candle scents….
what would they smell like?
Sam Hunt: Drakkar, body odor, and Forever 21
Blake Shelton: beer and Adam Levine Eau de Toilette
Chase Rice: a leather wallet with a condom in it
Florida-Georgia Line: Cinnamon and pepper spray
Gary LeVox: Ben-Gay, Paul Mitchell styling gel,
and bear claws
Brantley Gilbert: gun powder, Summer's Eve, and brass
by Trailer - Originally posted on Country California, December 02, 2010
John Rich, of Big & Rich and songwriting and solo fame, is slated to perform at and do the flip-switching honors for the Mt. Richmore Christmas Tree Lighting. The December 5th ceremony will commence with a mini-concert from Cowboy Troy, Gretchen Wilson and Kid Rock w/ Sebastian Bach.
After igniting the resplendent purple and white LED beacons on the 20-foot Vermont balsam fir in the Mt. Richmore courtyard, superstar country singer John Rich will take the stage for a one-hour set of classic and contemporary country hits.
Food will be available for purchase in the right atrium of the courtyard, with special guest cook Cowboy Troy grilling steaks and lobsters for guests' enjoyment. And, of course, there will be several outlets for attendees to "get their drank on." In addition to a main bar in the left atrium of the courtyard, there will also be a mini bar at the food concession and three rolling liquor carts to serve guests as they enjoy the holiday festivities. For VIP guests, there will also be drinks available in the elevator and bathrooms.
"It's a huge honor to be at the head of the table, so to speak, for this great Christmas celebration!" beamed Rich at the press conference announcing the lighting. "Hopefully this will be an annual event... and I'd be happy to help out when I can, since it's for such a good cause."
All profits from the concert will go to the Middle Tennessee RJRB (Replenish John Rich's Bar) Foundation and guests will receive an autographed 8x10 glossy of the country megastar wearing a Santa suit. Tickets will not be available for purchase, but Rich himself will visit local high school and community college campuses to hand out entry vouchers to "talented" students and co-eds.
Wrapping up the press conference with a sales pitch, Rich smiled: "Come on out and celebrate Christ's holy birth, girls… uh, folks. Johnny Cash would be there if he was still alive."
The Black Crowes could have become the greatest American
rock and roll band of all time, or at least in the conversation with Tom Petty
& the Heartbreakers and Bruce Springsteen & the E Street Band. Around
the time the scourge of hair “metal” was fading and the fad that would become
grunge was just kicking up, the band from Georgia revived Stones-style, blues-based
rock in a way only Aerosmith had done (and then, briefly) before them.
Fans of the band saw the potential immediately; within a few
years and albums, though, they became vaguely aware of the dysfunction that
would cripple the band. Sure, Chris and Rich Robinson didn’t get along, but how
bad could it be?
Worse than anyone could have imagined, it turns out. And
thanks to former drummer Steve Gorman’s enthralling memoir, Hard to Handle: The Life and Death of The
Black Crowes, fans get an
intimate look at a slow-motion train wreck. Think of Almost Famous in real life, with fist-fights.
Gorman, the youngest of eight kids from Hopkinsville,
dropped out of Western Kentucky University in the late 1980s to move to Atlanta
and join a band – a band that didn’t yet exist. He didn’t own a drum kit;
bought his first one about a week after arriving. He had only “air-drummed.”
It was also about a week into his Atlanta residency that he
met Chris Robinson, then fronting Mr. Crowe’s Garden. When Drivin N Cryin
poached drummer Jeff Sullivan, Chris (who had recently gone cold-turkey off his
antidepressants after his therapist committed suicide) gave Gorman the hard sell.
He soon relented and along with Rich (still in high school), formed the core of
what would become the Black Crowes.
Steve Gorman
Fortune smiled on the band early. It was a different era in
the music business, obviously, but they were on the fast track after being signed
to Ric Rubin’s label, Def American. George Drakoulias prudently informed the
band they needed to tour and practice more before hitting the studio. Before
heading back to Los Angeles, Drakoulias gave them some sage advice: Start listening to the Stones, like Beggars
Banquet- and Exile-era Stones. And to young Rich Robinson: Learn to play in open G tuning, like Keith
does. This, without question, impacted the Crowes’ sound on their first
three albums – and their overall sound -- more than anything else. Gorman,
incidentally, refers to Rich as a guitar savant; the same applies to himself
behind a drum kit. Those two were the instrumental backbone of the Black
Crowes.
Drakoulias produced the first two records, Shake Your Money Maker and (to this day
the band’s masterpiece) The Southern
Harmony and Musical Companion. So, after massive record sales, universal
critical acclaim and touring all over America and Europe, what’s the next move?
Chris decides the band doesn’t need a producer anymore. Oh, the hubris that
ensued.
Quick, what’s the first thing that comes to mind about their
third album, Amorica? Probably the
album cover: a young lady’s midsection clad only in American-flag bikini
bottoms, with, uh, some grass showing on the field.
Gorman: “Chris, what the hell are you thinking? Places like
Wal Mart and K-Mart will never carry this album.” (They didn’t.)
Chris: “I don’t care. Black Crowes fans don’t shop at those
places.”
Predictably, album sales absolutely tanked as a result.
(It’s a shame, too, because Amorica
is probably the band’s second-best record.) It would be the first of many times
Chris Robinson would presume to speak for Black Crowes fans, and over the years
he’d be proven wrong manifestly and continually. At one point Gorman, sick of
the presumption, told him, “You have no idea how to relate to our fans. How
much money would you say you spend on weed in a year?” Not batting an eye or
catching the gist, Chris deadpanned, “About a hundred grand.”
Over the next dozen years, Chris would – time and again – drop
a grenade into the band’s midst. There’s a clinical term for someone who is
incapable of empathy and engages in destructive behavior when success would
otherwise abound. Gorman never calls Chris Robinson a sociopath, or even
bipolar. But he’s surely thought it. The Robinson brothers were toxically
codependent, and it spread through the band. Rich had been bullied by his older
brother all his life, and rather than stand up to him, he took it out on his
band mates in passive-aggressive fashion. Gorman, the runt of his own (much
larger) familial litter, exasperatedly gave Rich some advice: “Next time, take
a folding chair and smash Chris right in the f*cking face with it. Send his ass
to the hospital, and I promise you, this will stop.” If Rich had taken it to
heart and followed through, Gorman’s book would be alternate history.
But he didn’t. Many, many times, Gorman – after enduring a
Chris Robinson tantrum of verbal abuse – offered him a free first punch. Had
Chris taken him up, we’d again be looking at a different Crowes retrospective.
He’s a bully who’s never endured a good ass-whipping, and Black Crowes fans are
the worse for it.
Gorman would leave the band after the 2010 tour and return a
few years later in response to the pleadings of the Robinsons and the band’s
manager. This time, they promised, it would be different. And it would, for a
little while. Then, in 2014 it was all over again. Rich released a letter explaining
that the band was done, seemingly taking the high road: “I love my brother and respect his talent, but
his present demand that I must give up my equal share of the band and that our
drummer for 28 years and original partner, Steve Gorman, relinquish 100% of his
share, reducing him to a salaried employee, is not something I could agree to.”
Oh, the irony. Several years earlier, the
Robinsons – both of them – had written Gorman and demanded he give up his
ownership in the band they’d formed together. The drummer called their bluff
and was ready to walk until they quickly relented.
Each of the book’s 40 chapters are packed with
vignettes that will leave fans shaking their heads at what might have been. No
spoiler here, but the one that sums it all up involves Jimmy Page. You remember
they toured together and made a double album, right?
Of all the infuriating episodes in Gorman’s tell-all, it’s
the one that will piss you off the most.
Still, it’s a book you can’t put down. As in, buy it on a
Friday afternoon and you’re up till 3:30 a.m. reading.
And you’ll finish it while
watching your favorite team the next day…in between plays.
Gorman says, “This isn’t
the story of the Black Crowes, but it’s my story of the Black Crowes.” It’s
one well told, but ultimately sad. I hope the movie isn’t a letdown. Meantime,
let’s remember what was, and what could have been.
Bloodshot Records is dropping some cool records over the next month or two. They've been digging in their vaults and finding putting together some exciting collections and new releases definitely worth checking out.
Wayne Hancock is just too good. Channeling the best of the honky-tonk swing of years past, "The Train" is back with a collection of tracks from early Bloodshot Records releases. On Man of the Road: The Early Bloodshot Years, the label has to curated a solid batch of Hancock's best bar room bangers, the kinds of songs people swing on the dance floor's all night long.
The collection is the first time any of these songs - recorded initially and released with Bloodshot Records on albums from the last two decades - have appeared on vinyl (including the classic "Thunderstorms & Neon Signs"): A-Town Blues (2001), South Austin Sessions EP (2001), Swing Time (2003), Hard Headed Woman: A Celebration of Wanda Jackson (2004), Tulsa (2006), and Viper of Melody (2009).
Scott H. Biram, everyone's favorite dirty old man weirdo, has a new gospel-inspired record, Sold Out to the Devil: A Collection of Gospel Cuts by the Rev. Scott H. Biram and it's everything you expect from Austin's favorite damaged son.
The songs are a ramshackle collection of songs about God, religion, and spirituality with Biram's signature booze-soaked delivery. The album also includes a previously unreleased cover of the Louvin Brothers' "Broadminded." The record is predictably low-fi but an excellent collection of songs that get the blood moving and the drinks flowing.
And finally, if you're looking for some ultra-dark bummers, get Jason Hawk Harris' Love & the Dark on the radar. It's definitely got the big country hooks, but the depth of the lyrics Harris has is oceanic. There are some demons on this record that permeate the songs to their core. Like Jason Isbell, it's apparently by the end of the opening track, "The Smoke and The Stars," Harris has seen some shit. If you're looking for some sad anthems, this is the next stop on the bus.
Yeah yeah. One of you’s thinking “miRanDA laMBeRt sUcKS!” And one of you’s thinking “Where’s Jimmy Bob Reynolds and the Pork-loins (or insert actual artist you enjoy or that I too enjoy and just didn’t put on here)?” This is my perfect world, where Americana, red dirt, and even some pop country live in perfect harmony and give mainstream radio variety and depth. Even if you disagree with a lot of these songs, you have to admit it’d sure be better than the real world’s current country chart.
