I started the week with a live Miranda Lambert performance, so I’ll finish it the same way.
This viral video hit the web a week or so back. In it, Lambert is singing ‘Over You’ — a song about the death of husband Blake Shelton’s brother — when she approaches a young fan. The girl, 7-year-old Brooke Hester, is suffering from stage four cancer.
Hester handed Lambert a flower and Miranda was pretty much done for.
My wife and I saw Counting Crows in concert a few months ago, in a sort of 90s throwback show with opening band Toad the Wet Sprocket.
They sounded wonderful. Frontman Adam Duritz looked like he’s just crawled out of a dumpster but his distinctive voice was in top form and he rattled off his intricate lyrics without a hitch, owning every moment onstage.
Tens of millions of people were given U2’s new album for free a couple of weeks ago, and nobody really cared.
The publicity stunt, coordinated with Apple to accompany the announcement of their new iPhone models, netted the band a reported $100 million but simultaneously revealed that they are no longer the “greatest rock band in the world.”
In fact, the massive gifting of their new album, Songs of Innocence, prompted enough bafflement to inspire a hilarious ‘Who is U2?’ Tumblr.
I wrote about Lana Del Rey’s new album, Ultraviolence, about a month ago, and in that post I declared that I finally understood her appeal.
I’ve listened to the album many times since and my admiration has only deepened. It’s definitely music for a certain mood, but it’s a mood I gravitate toward — you guessed it… melancholy.
I’ve been listening to Miranda Lambert’s new album, the terrific Platinum, a lot the past couple of months.
Then the other day I decided to fire up her previous album, Four the Record, which is equally terrific. A couple of years back, it was the brand-new collection that dominated my car stereo. But now it’s been pushed aside, like a first wife whose husband left her for a 25 year-old.
