Dirt Road Anthems

Original image by There Stands the Glass.

As a Prius-driving, New York Times subscribing jazz blogger, I often forget I’m a hillbilly at heart. Returning to dirt roads in the middle of Kansas activates my intergenerational agricultural sensibility. I feel at home in the absolute middle of nowhere. My life partner and I recently added almost 2,000 miles to an odometer. A soundtrack of spirited gospel, old-timey folk, scratchy honky tonk and contemporary country felt compulsory as we drifted on the outskirts of towns including Colby, Fort Dodge, Garden City and Pratt. In addition to relishing hour after hour of Willie Nelson and George Strait, we sang along with Luke Bryan, the Dixie Chicks, Freddy Fender, Dolly Parton and Doc Watson. Revisiting timeless hymns was no less restorative. Yet my insatiable craving for Ray Price dissipated as suburbs replaced pastures as we neared our increasingly inharmonious residence.

Million Dollar Bash

Original image by There Stands the Glass.

I’ve reluctantly recommitted to the onerous task of organizing The Museum of Dead People and Obsolete Technology, the cluttered realm also known as my unfinished basement.  Consolidating old ticket stubs into a single box is one of the more enjoyable components of my job as chief curator.  As I sifted through thousands of bits of paper, it occurred to me that I’ve spent more money on Bob Dylan than any other musician.  Between concert tickets, physical recordings and books, I’ve almost certainly laid out more than a grand on the man.

Blood on the Tracks is one of several Dylan albums I’ve owned on cassette, vinyl and compact disc.  The relentless flood of must-have sets of rarities and live recordings plays a further role in emptying my wallet, as does mandatory attendance at area appearances of Dylan’s enigmatic Never Ending Tour.  I’ve even dragged my full brood to a couple shows.  And while I own six or seven Dylan-related books, I’m relieved I’ve never been tempted to buy a t-shirt.

Dylan isn’t my only substantial investment.  Here are nine additional artists who’ve separated me from inordinate amounts of money: 

• Mary J. Blige- Old-school R&B concert tickets are crazy expensive.

• Bill Frisell- I accumulate dozens of Frisell albums the way other people collect baseball cards.

• Thelonious Monk- I bought a Monk album at cost every Friday for nine months when I worked in a music distribution warehouse.

• Charlie Parker- So many books!  So many bootlegs!

• Prince- He was omnipresent in the pre-streaming era.

• Bruce Springsteen- Dylan redux.

• George Strait- All hail King George.

• Tech N9ne- I’ve seen more performances by the Kansas City rapper than all but a few dozen Technicians.

• Bobby Watson- Two or three $20 door charges every year for more than 25 years add up.