You Never Know, Girls.

I was going to write all about the Lucinda Williams concert and how The Heartless Bastards totally rocked so actually maybe that's what I'll do. First, though, I must sing a little song here, figuratively, of course. I'm sure a techno-wizard could add sounds, but I cannot: I Love My Linkers. This is my song because some truly very funny and smart people who put their funnysmarts into their blogs have been hanging out here, and I am so happy because one must find one's soul sisters in order to answer the truly deep questions like: why would anyone wanna tint her nipples, why do my breasts do what they do, and how many ways can we make fun of people who are assholes? Those are my priorities, anyhow.

I do make up a lotta songs and I do sing a lotta songs. One of my old faves is a show tune I learned in middle school, "It's All for the Best." I oughtta google that or something. I was watching t.v. and an ad where a car-tester guy makes a gear shift play "Purple Haze" came on. I remembered that I sang that song at a talent show in middle school. It was intense. A room full of arrogant preppies, getting down to Hendrix's"Purple Haze." I had a microphone, large breasts for my age, and the sense to scream rather than to actually sing. Would that I had pursued the guitar after that. Instead I spent my time gossiping, an apt pre-occupation before my heady foray into blogging, complaining about my husband, and forcing loud sounds to come out of my mouth.

The Heartless Bastards are three people rockin out, punk and fun at the same time. The lead singer's voice reminds me of The 4 Non-Blondes, a flash-in-the-pan band that had a great song about feeling fucked up and crazy. We were in a high-up balcony, waiting for Lucinda Williams, and the opening band came on and of course I had no expectations. I certainly was not prepared for the major drums, the heavy-wild voice, and the excellent guitar. This was not middle school. I was absolutely jazzed the whole time, and I did my nerdy text-message my musician friends near the end of the set. It turns out Ball & Chain had just read about them in The New York Times. (I do not mean to imply that a band's quality is related to their popularity - often it is the opposite.)

Farbeeyit from me to say anything about Lucinda Williams beyond that she is a phenomenal writer and musician. Her voice is both smooth and crackly, and she is up there saying all sortsa shit about sex and love and hatred. The woman is emotional , she is pissed off, and she knows how to tell someone to fuck off. I love that. But but okay okay, stutter stutter, how come she talked so very very much? (I guess this is my Gertrude Stein imitation.) She thanked the audience and said she was humbled and grateful a few times. I think, maybe maybe, she had a little too much mind-alteration? Oh Lucinda I am sorry, the show was fun. But I kinda thought Heartless Bastards were great and you were a bit too relaxed. And didja hafta say that women complain too much about being too fat and too old? Didja hafta tell us that it takes talent and hard work to succeed? That was a little, well (I'm whispering now), cheap.

I came home and today I am loving the new CD. But this is why one should not ever hear too much from one's idols. It's like the time Audre Lourde wouldn't speak to me when we were introduced, or when Marge Piercy rolled her eyes at me, the bitch. Her husband apologized for her and said "she's been sick". I had just told the woman that we used her poem at our wedding, for crissake. Anyway, Grace Paley was absolutely, well, gracious, so that worked out.

Lucinda Williams is 'a shitkicker,' to quote B & C, and maybe when I'm 54 I'll be confident enough to tell an entire concert audience that I'm talented. Maybe the point is, though, not to say too much when you've had a few drinks or tokes or whatever, because you might say some shit you regret. But of course, if you are Lucinda Williams, you could write a helluva song about that.