3 Chords & the Truth: Shine

Winter is here. Darkness is upon the land.

There is only one thing left to do.

Shine.

You shine your light as we rage against the darkness. And 3 Chords & the Truth will supply the soundtrack.

Now is the time to rise . . . and shine. 

That said, this week's show is going to blow your mind, man. Shine? Oh, about a megawatt's worth, I'm reckoning.

That is all.

It's 3 Chords & the Truth, y'all. Be there. Aloha.

3 Chords & the Truth: Push back

“Push back against the age as hard as it pushes against you."

-- Flannery O'Connor

That goes double in these times of fascists, cranks, the plague and a radically deviant conception of "freedom" and "liberty."

If 3 Chords & the Truth has to turn into some sort of Resistance podcast, so be it. This thing -- meaning America -- has gotten out of hand, and we'll be lucky to live through it.

We'll have to hope and pray that we get lucky. While we're waiting to see, the Big Show will have some great music to salve your soul just a bit.

Push back like hell, my friends.

It's 3 Chords & the Truth, y'all. Be there. Aloha.

3 Chords & the Truth: Same old song

It's the same old song. Second verse, same as the first.

And here we are in Coronavirusland -- right back where we started in March.

In March.

Apart from "We live in f***ed-up times in a f***ed-up country," I really don't know what to say. Rather, I don't know what to say that's any different from what other rational believers in science are saying right now.

We here at 3 Chords & the Truth got nothin' . . . except the music. And the music is exceptionally good.

One hopes it's so good that it'll make you feel a little bit better for a while. I would say "make you forget," but that's a bit of a stretch -- even for the Big Show.

But that's just the same old song, isn't it?

It's 3 Chords & the Truth, y'all. Be there. Aloha.

3 Chords & the Truth: Whatever works

How are you getting by this week in this time of disease and woe?

Me, I've found that the best method for coping is . . . whatever works.

A big part of "whatever works," we at the Big Show hope, is the Big Show itself. A weekly dose of good music helps a lot when you're afraid to turn on the news for fear of what fresh hell awaits.

But while you're listening to the program -- listening to the finest in recorded music from the vast 3 Chords & the Truth library -- might I suggest sitting in a comfy chair with a refreshing libation. It might just be the shot in the liver you need.

PERHAPS A Skyball would do the tri . . . tri . . . hic . . . trick.

This classic 1960s bit of alcoholic nostalgia is sort of like a spruced-up highball, only made with vodka, lemon juice and lemonade. And I'm sure it's healthier than sitting on the stoop with a Lieutenant Dan cigar and muttering the F-word a lot.

Like I said, whatever works.

Of course, if you happen to be under 21 -- or if you just don't like booze -- I'm sure a nice refreshing glass of no-octane lemonade would work just fine, too.

Listen to me, I was pre-med in college. Wait, I was a journalism major.

Hell, what's the difference?

Good music and good libations -- that will help you get through this time of pandemic and pan-idiots. And helping you get through it all is our special mission on 3 Chords & the Truth.

S'alright? S'alright.

It's 3 Chords & the Truth, y'all. Be there. Aloha.

3 Chords & the Truth: The Blues Cafe

Damn right, I've got the blues.

Damn right, I bet you do, too.

It's a blue world here in Coronavirusland, so there's only one thing for us to do on 3 Chords & the Truth. It's time to play the blues.

Fortunately, if your playlist is as broad as American music, there's lots to pick from. It's hard to escape the blues in something that expansive.

Rock? Blues.

Jazz? Blues.

The American songbook? Look beneath the surface of so much of it. Blues.

Damn right, we got the blues -- right here on the Big Show. Which is perfect for when a whole country done got the blues.

Trust us; the blues will cure your blues. At least a little.

It's 3 Chords & the Truth, y'all. Be there. Aloha.

3 Chords & the Truth: Virally stylish

New for '20! Style goes viral!

And, perhaps, shaving and lipstick become superfluous?

No matter what, 3 Chords & the Truth is your dedicated follower of fashion . . . and breakout music on the hot spot of your Internet dial. And while you'd be smart -- and considerate -- to mask your face to stop the spread of the coronavirus, there's no masking the reality that good music makes hard times just a little bit better.

And the forecast for the next 90 minutes of the Big Show is a marked improvement in conditions wherever you are.

Now grab a drink, crank up the high-fidelity apparatus, and settle in for the musical journey. It'll be an adventure -- we guarantee it.

It's 3 Chords & the Truth, y'all.  Be there. Aloha.

3 Chords & the Truth: A tuneful light

You remember the old Merle Haggard song, "If We Make It Through December"?

Somehow, it has become not insane to wonder if we'll make it to November. That ain't good.

That can send a body into a serious funk. That can seriously harsh one's mellow. That ain't good.

Seriously, what the hell are we to do? Shine a light into the virus-loaded darkness, I guess. I mean, that's what we're trying to do here on 3 Chords & the Truth -- shine a tuneful light into this darkest night.

So, in that . . . light . . . this is gonna be one hell of a show. A Big Show. The price of admission? Wash your hands.

And keep your distance from your neighbor.

And wear a mask when you're out in public -- which you ought to be as little as possible. There's a virus goin' on.

F*** the darkness. Let's shine some musical light.

It's 3 Chords & the Truth, y'all. Be there. Aloha.

The records that made me (some of 'em): The compilations

Back when you were a broke-ass college student and you liked music (when albums were a thing and music piracy meant taping songs off the radio), you hit the bargain bins a lot and waited to be intrigued, surprised . . . or both.

Sometimes, you achieved "Holy shit!" You usually came to this point only after unwrapping the LP and putting it on the turntable. That point only could be reached after you got intrigued standing over the bargain bin.

Only after the record had spun, your speakers had thumped and "Holy shit!' had been reached could you then achieve "educated" and "impassioned."

These two bargain-bin compilation finds -- a combined No. 8 in my series of 10 influential albums -- checked all the boxes for me back in the day. The first was "The Soul Years," a 25th anniversary overview of Atlantic Records' soul and R&B history first released in 1973.

I was hooked with the first cut of the double album -- "Stick" McGhee and His Buddies' early Atlantic single from 1949, "Drinkin' Wine' Spo-Dee-O-Dee." This was not the kind of oldie you would have heard on Baton Rouge radio back then.

I think this is the kind of thing the young version of my parents would have liked -- before my old parents hated it.


ME, I WAS all in. That was even before I got to Joe Turner's original 1954 recording of "Shake, Rattle and Roll," which was not cleaned-up and white-i-cized like Bill Haley and His Comets' version, which wasn't even recorded until Turner's had hit No. 1 on the Billboard  R&B chart.

Unsurprisingly, this verse from "Big" Joe Turner's "Shake, Rattle and Roll" was changed when Bill Haley recorded the song:

Way you wear those dresses, the sun comes shinin' through
Way you wear those dresses, the sun comes shinin' through
I can't believe my eyes, all that mess belongs to you

And this verse ain't there at all in Haley's cover:

I get over the hill and way down underneath
I get over the hill and way down underneath
You make me roll my eyes, even make me grit my teeth

It is good to find a compilation LP that's just as educational as a "Big Joe" Turner record.

And don't even get me started on how superior The Chords' "Sh-Boom" is to the Crew-Cuts' cover version.

WE FIND that "WCBS FM101 History of Rock -- The 50's" is a much more conventional album -- that is, "mostly stuff played on white radio stations" -- but it makes my "influential" list because it intimately acquainted me with what now are two of my favorite songs of all time.

Those would be (drum roll, please) . . . the Five Satins' "In the Still of the Night" and the Skyliners' "Since I Don't Have You."

And it was the Five Satins who gave us the term "doo-wop" -- them or The Turbans' with their slightly earlier "When You Dance." 

On NCIS: New Orleans, Scott Bakula always tells his TV special agents to "go learn things." When you're talking about music, that's always so much damn fun.

3 Chords & the Truth: The Viral Load Boogie

So . . . I just got back from the neighborhood (loosely speaking) Hy-Vee, where I waited for about an hour to pick up groceries. You think I went inside -- on a Saturday?

From how full the parking lot was, and how few people were wearing the now-recommended masks, it's clear a lot of folks haven't gotten the coronavirus memo. Nope, staying in the car, where I know all the germs.

Still, it was out of the house for a bit. Speaking to someone not my wife, who is an excellent, witty conversationalist, I hasten to add.

Such is life today in COVID-19 Nation, where disease is rampant and we're all on our own.

THAT'S THE mindset behind today's edition of 3 Chords & the Truth. If I'm stir crazy and living in a stay-at-home fog, I'll bet your are, too.

At least you better be -- for your own health.

We're going to try to bring a little musical sunshine into your cloistered existence this week and every week for the duration. I mean, we do that every time on the Big Show, but in a world with an increasing viral load, it's time to double down.

Or something.

Don't miss one of the program's patented boogie sets, by the way. You've got to get your butt off the couch and move a little, you know?

And that's about it. Just listen, OK? You'll be glad you did.

It's 3 Chords & the Truth, y'all. Be there. Aloha.

The records that made me (some of 'em):The contradiction of Mama and Daddy's 78s

The album-cover challenge continues, Part 4. The thing is, this ain't an album. It's a few 78s, ones that I've been playing since I was old enough to work a record player, which was age 4-ish.

First, behold this influential record of my youth -- Elvis Presley's "All Shook Up," on glorious shellac.

In many cases, high fidelity spun into 1950s homes, and into popular culture, at 78 rpm.

And so did the king of rock 'n' roll.

Now I have brought much of my analog musical formation into the digital present, I guess, preserved on not-so-glorious hard drives these days. (Don't worry; I still have the records.)

"All Shook Up." I couldn't tell you how many times I played this record -- this very 78 that's four years older than I am -- as a kid. The rough estimate: lots.

In 1957, "All Shook Up" was magic. As it still was when I first got a hold of it around 1964 or 1965. As it still is today.

Me (age not quite 3) and the Silvertone . . . and the records

THAT GOES as well for another of my little stash of Elvis on 78 . . . "Too Much." That's it sitting on a 1952 Webcor record changer here at Anachronism "R" Us.

And you know what? After half a century and more, the Elvis records still sound pretty much like new. Hell, I have many compact discs that sound a lot worse. I mean, some of these old 78s sound great.

RCA Victor's "'New Orthophonic' High Fidelity" was, indeed, all that. All that and a pair of blue suede shoes.

Now let's turn to a couple more 78s that more fully became touchstones when I hit my 50s -- Walter Brown's "Fine Brown Baby" / "My Baby's Boogie Woogie" and The Delmore Brothers' "Blues Stay Away From Me."

In 1946, when my parents were still newlyweds, they were buying "race" records and hillbilly blues records from their favorite Baton Rouge music emporiums.

LOW-DOWN BLUES. R&B. Along with pop, jump and country twangfests like the Delmore Brothers.

"She's got what it takes, make a preacher lay his Bible down," sangeth Mr. Brown. You should hear the flip side.

If you want to know the music of my soul, my folks' old 78s will get you close.

If you want to know what was it that made me the musical creature that I am -- if you want to hear the records I was playing when I was but a lad, just old enough to get into my folks records and operate a record changer -- here you go. This and Fats Domino . . . and Ivory Joe Hunter . . . and Fats Domino . . . and Hank Williams . . . and Louis Jordan.

This is about as personal as it gets.

This is who I am. The music of my parents' young adulthood (and my record-geek childhood) sounded like the world -- the Deep South -- I was born into damn near six decades ago.

It was eclectic, the Louisiana . . . the South of my youth. It was seemingly at odds with itself if you didn't look any further than the surface of things. It was also rich beyond measure.

Take Brown, the blues shouter who once sang with Jay McShann's orchestra. In the particular culture I entered into during the spring of 1961, black shouters like him could sit next to white twangers like Ernest Tubb in the record cabinet in the bottom of the old Silvertone console -- even if they couldn't sit next to each other at the Woolworth's lunch counter.

AND NO ONE thought twice about either peculiarity.

This explains my parents' music-buying habits of the 1940s and '50s, long before I came along and, a few years later, started raiding their music collection. It also explains the complex and contradictory inner lives of these people -- formed by the Southern society that brought us Williams, Louis Armstrong and Jim Crow -- who could in 1946 buy racy records by blues shouters, then in 1971 yell at me about my expletive-deleted "n***er music."

People who thought Dick Clark was a communist, probably because of the fatal combination of "beatnik music" and race mixing on "American Bandstand."

Those George Wallace and David Duke voters.

A couple more of the blackest white people on earth -- as Southern Caucasians surely are -- who may have found it just cause for homicide if you had told them that back in the day.

Go figure.

The South: It's a mystery, wrapped in a riddle, tucked away in an enigma and fueled by contradiction. These records give you a peek under its hood a little bit . . . its and mine.

You might not completely understand either of us, me and the South, but it will be a start.

3 Chords & the Truth: Into the void together. Alone

A friend today summed up these officially interesting times perfectly. Absolutely perfectly.

"This is the Lentiest Lent I ever Lented," she wrote.

Yeah, that about covers it. Almost to the point where I have nothing else to add.

It would seem that we are flailing amid a world of hurt, a world of suffering and a world of fear. That's before we get to the religious obligations of prayer, self-denial and penance.

This is one hell of a Lenty Lent, all right. We even had to give up church for Lent. America's president and government would have given up common sense and competence for the penitential season, except for one niggling detail.

You cannot surrender what you do not possess.

AND HERE we are, with too many people unnecessarily giving up good health for Lent. People giving up a sense of security for Lent. People by the thousands giving up their very lives for Lent -- giving them to a virus that U.S. officialdom never took seriously until it was damned near too late. Whether some leaders ever take the coronavirus seriously enough to do any damned good remains to be seen.

Let's just say I'm not real optimistic as I sit in the 3 Chords & the Truth apocalypse bunker here in Omaha, by God, Nebraska.

That's about all the elaboration I can muster. It's hard staying at home. It's hard being isolated from friends . . . and the world. It's hard for me, and I'll bet it's hard for you, too.

So . . . we all do what we can to make it through, and to help one another make it through. The Big Show is what I do -- give you some music to listen to and maybe a thing or two to think about. Maybe that's helpful. I pray that it is.

Wash your hands, keep your distance, and be careful out there.

It's 3 Chords & the Truth, y'all. Be there. Aloha.

3 Chords & the Truth: Doing our level best

End of Week 2 in nearly total home sequestration: Mr. and Mrs. Favog have not killed one another.

So far, so good.

In the name of "flattening the curve" of COVID-19 cases, we certainly hope you're doing the same. Your health, your neighbor's health, your grandmama's health and the health of our American health-care system demand that middling sacrifice of us all.

The virus, it is real. And real bad.

SO, IN THE NAME of making your homebound state as pleasant as possible, here's another episode of the Big Show . . . 3 Chords & the Truth. As usual, it's a good one.

An eclectic one.

One that will make you, at least once (maybe twice . . . OK, maybe three times) go "WHOA!"

That is how we roll here in the Apocalypse Bunker in Omaha, by God, Nebraska. We're doing our level best.

Now turn us on and listen to the music. And wash your damn hands.

So . . . is anybody else disinfecting groceries? Yesterday's gobstoppering paranoia is today's mere prudence, I suppose -- here in Coronavirus Nation.

It's 3 Chords & the Truth, y'all. Be there. Aloha.

3 Chords & the Truth: Carnival in the bunker

Just because you're hunkered down in an apocalypse bunker in the Trumpian States of Amerika, that doesn't mean you can't spruce the place up a bit and celebrate Mardi Gras.

Let's just call Carnival time the bright spot between secular, never-ending Lent and religious Lent plus the ongoing secular, never-ending Lent in this national vale of moonbattery.

That's where we are on this edition of 3 Chords & the Truth.

But . . . the music's great, the music is fine, and the music on the Big Show (one hopes) will get us through every form of Lenten mortification.

And dat's the name of dat tune.

Period.

It's 3 Chords & the Truth, y'all. Be there. Aloha.

3 Chords & the Truth: Night trippin'

The Doctor is dead. Long live the Doctor.

This week on 3 Chords & the Truth, we'll be night trippin' in honor of Dr. John, the Night Tripper. If you ask me, that's absotively mos' scocious.

An' dat's all I got to say about dem tunes. Y'all just listen to the Big Show, and then say hey to yo' mama and them.

It's 3 Chords & the Truth, y'all. Be there. Aloha.

3 Chords & the Truth: When life hands you winter. . . .

There's weather comin'! And we're all gonna die!

So . . . before the blizzard hits us here in Omaha, by God, Nebraska, we're going to put one hell of a fine edition of 3 Chords & the Truth up here on the Internets. We intend to go out with a bang.

And as the snowy death envelops us on the Great Plains, we also intend to drink beer and eat gumbo. I am from south Louisiana, and that's how we roll when nature turns against us and venturing outside would not be the smart thing to do.

What would be the smart thing to do if weather's comin' where you are, too, would be to follow our lead at the Big Show and put on a pot of gumbo for yourself, too, and make sure you're well stocked with something to drink, as it were. The music . . . that we have covered for you.

That seems to cover it. Now we hunker down and wait for doom. Or gumbo.

One or the other -- perhaps both. Because weather's comin'.

It's 3 Chords & the Truth, y'all. Be there. Aloha.

3 Chords & the Truth: Emergency to nowhere

  
Emergencies are bustin' out all over, and we have our own here at 3 Chords & the Truth.

God help us all.

Due to the crises facing us here and nationally, I shan't take much time to describe this week's edition of the Big Show. There are bigger fish to fry.

Of course, we don't actually know much about the ramifications of the emergency at hand, except that we damn well have one . . . and that it will severely impact the 3C&T way of life. We here at the program will continue to play fine music so that we remain calm and carry on.

THE IMPORTANT thing to remember is (insert word salad here).

And that's why it is so crucial that we have such an outlet as the Big Show to purvey the finest in eclectic, classic and progressive programming to the greater community and the world -- especially as we face these difficult times.

Etcetera, etcetera, blah bla-blah bla-blah blah blah.

It's 3 Chords & the Truth, y'all. Be there. Aloha.

You may know the answer to this question

If you don't know, the answer is here.

3 Chords & the Truth: Fill 'er up with Ethyl

We got a '48 Buick with the feather-touch steering.

We got a tankful of Ethyl.

We got a fistful of Green Stamps.

It's dark, and 3 Chords & the Truth is wearing sunglasses.

Hit it.

That's right. This week, the Big Show hits the road.

Sure, the road in this case only may be in our mind's ear . . . but in times like these, you take what you can get. Am I right?

SO, IT'S ONE for my baby, and one more for Ethyl. What? You don't know Ethyl? Look her up; she's probably listed in the Google book.

Let's get started -- it's a long, long road.

It's 3 Chords & the Truth, y'all. Be there. Aloha.

3 Chords & the Truth: Pop a top

In a studio in Omaha,
We assembled a defeated old fart
From somewhere in the South . . .
To bring you this message
From the last working brain cells
All over the world . . .

It's the real thing. Beer.

I'd like to buy the world a home
and furnish it with love
grow apple trees and honey bees
and snow white turtle doves.

I'd like to each the world to sing -- in perfect harmony. I'd like to buy the world a beer and keep it company.

That's the real thing.

I'd like to each the world to sing -- in perfect harmony. I'd like to buy the world a beer and keep it company.

That's the real thing. Beer.

And the Big Show.

It's 3 Chords & the Truth, y'all. Be there. Aloha.