Guilt-free Admission

I like Country & Western music.

What? Don’t look at me like that. Perfectly respectable members of society have enjoyed Country music and lived decent lives. Johnny Cash, for one. He always seemed such a well-adjusted chap.

Although, there is a limit to my appreciation of the art. I can handle hardcore instrumental country (Albert Lee, Union Station/Jerry Douglas, to a lesser extent The Hellecasters! ), but my love of pure Country doesn’t extend to the spit and/or sawdust of some of the purveyors of music that rivals gansta rap in pure misogyny. But that’s the minority (I hope).

And, the other extreme – the dreaded pop/country fusion that results in a hellish Hootenanny.*

* Which never answers the question: What would impress Shania Twain? I mean, if you’re going to barn-dance with Beezlebub, you might as well accomplish something complicitly.

Wow. What a long-winded way to say: I saw The Eagles the other night, and they were great.

Having been a big fan for years (and I’m man enough to admit it), it was an ideal gig! Their back-up guitarist [read: plays the essential parts] Steuart Smith is an incredible musician – his pedal-steel bending had me frantically re-organising my practice priorities…

Well, it was one of those nights.

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