All hail the ruler of Wicked City, King Krafty Kuts!

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For years Krafty Kuts represented the great divide between one of my greatest friends and I. He had stolen my friend from the comfortable groove of the classic hip-hop and reggae that formed much of the basis for our friendship and dragged him into (What I perceived to be) the cold, ruthless clutches of electronic music. All I heard about was how great Krafty Kuts was. He stood at the gates of my aural Mordor, along with Stanton Warriors, as the guards to some terrifying hellscape, waiting to pierce me in the ears and take away my great love in life if I dared to venture too close. Also, the guy goes by Krafty Kuts. Read that three times. Think about it and realize what an easy target that is to make fun of. It's nearly impossible to discuss something you're afraid of with such a ridiculous name and not bring attention to it.

(Mixes, tracks and photos abound within.)

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I think about Bob Marley on his birthday and would like to share some of those thoughts.

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"Bob Marley became the voice of third world pain and resistance, the sufferer in the concrete jungle who would not be denied forever. Outsiders everywhere heard Marley as their own champion; if he could make himself heard, so could they, without compromises. In 2096, when the former third world has overrun and colonised the former superpowers, Bob Marley will be commemorated as a saint." - John Parales

Few albums have the ability to grate my nerves like Legend. For the longest time I held it as a shining example of everything that people misunderstood about reggae. I knew so many people who had that album, and no other, and claimed to be a fan of reggae. There was no Lee Perry on their shelves. No Burning Spear. No Toots Hibbert. Not even Bunny Wailer or Peter Tosh. It was simply Legend. Every reggae band I saw in concert had at least one Bob Marley song. Street performers all played "Three Little Birds" or "Redemption Song," the latter being especially bothersome as a "guy at the party with the guitar" song. It was Bob Marley overload. Everywhere I went I was inundated with Marley and his most famous songs. I began to actively avoid and resent not just Legend, but the entire Marley cannon. Then one day I was in the record store and I was compelled for some unknown reason to pick up Burnin', the seminal Wailers record. This was shortly after I had begun smoking cannabis on a regular basis and by the time the final notes of what is now my favourite Marley song, "Rastaman Chant," came to an end I knew I had fallen into a serious rabbit hole.

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Good For Grapes - Folk with a bottom-end. (Lucky Bar, December 13, 2013)

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Let’s start this off with a little confession: I wasn’t prepared to see Good for Grapes. It had been a busy build-up I hate admitting I don’t know things and this hatred forces me to research, to get my ears ready for any new musical experiences I’m about to take in. I like to have context and maybe a passing knowledge of the lyrical content of the songs. I just wasn’t up to it this week. With the long, drawn-out death of my Grandmother at hand, my mind had been nowhere near music of any kind and the thought of going to see these guys wasn’t particularly exciting. It wasn’t a personal thing, I just wasn’t ready to process new music. No matter where my mind was, I told myself I wasn’t going to pass up seeing a new BC band that I’d heard some rumblings about. This was the only song I’d heard. (Though I didn’t remember it until I saw them play it.)

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2013, in review. Chapter 1 - The Stepkids

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"Oh, it’s totally perverse. " -Hannah Epperson on competition in music. It is with this in mind that I have decided to forgo the traditional "Best Of" list to end the year. Instead I will bring an ongoing series of updates on the most memorable musical experiences of the year, be they concerts, records or even just songs. Today I bring you California psychedelic dudes and Stones Throw artists, the Stepkids.

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Ha Ha Tonka, Bloodshot Records and my vacation.

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I love record labels. When you find a good one that shares an aesthetic you enjoy it can be a magical thing. You can just lap up everything they release and know that they're basically never going to let you down. Let's hear it for Fat Possum and Ghetto Funk!

A couple of years ago I discovered Scott H. Biram and the label that puts out his records, Bloodshot Records. These guys just keep putting out great, gritty alt-country that seems to never miss the mark. Lydia Loveless comes to mind. Really, check her out. 

The latest alt-country dudes that they have turned me on to go by the moniker Ha Ha Tonka, and let me tell you, brothers and sisters, these guys are the real deal. Their new album Lessons  is not to be missed. It winds and grinds, jumping down the dusty backroads that only the best can navigate. This is already turning into a giant cliché and I haven't even started to really talk about the record. All I'll say from here is that if you like good, honest songwriting and hard rocking guitars, you should be listening to Ha Ha Tonka. Really, just do it.  (And while dope-ass beards are present, there are some clean faces to balance it out. Love it)

Here's a video of the group playing the title track off Lessons. 

Live at The Backyard Barbeque Festival, May 25th, 2013 HA HA TONKA: "Lessons". Music © Ha Ha Tonka http://www.hahatonkamusic.com/

As for me, I will be MIA for the next five weeks as I satiate my wanderlust and go off adventuring half-way around the world. I will have tales of music, love and wonder when I get back. Sit tight. I won't be long. I love you all.