Day 3: Here Comes The Sun King

[note: Internet service is on strike in Paris so I'll have to add the photos later when I have a stronger signal]

Once again the day commenced with a trip to Lower Marsh for a cup of whatever they call the coffee over here – flat white? I went to a different cafe, The Four Corners, drank my coffee and wrote yesterday’s blog. When you consider the time difference that means that you’re actually reading a blog about the past that I wrote in the future. Pretty cool, huh?

Fancy foam

Fancy foam

From there I tubed up to St. John’s Wood to start the holy pilgrimage. St. John’s Wood is a weird area. It’s the home of the national cricket grounds and Regent’s Park is nearby. It’s also a center for Jewish and Islamic communities. Obviously a questionable move by the British putting those 2 groups together given their bad neighbor history.

My first stop was at Panzer’s Deli to pick up a picnic lunch. I was warned that the help could be surly, but British surly is different that Boston surly, so I found them to be fairly nice.

From there I walked over to Regent’s Park. It’s a large city park. In English “regent’s” apparently means goose shit, but it was still a nice spot for brunch. I ate my bagel and lox, orange juice and cucumber salad near the boating pond.

After a brief respite I went to Queen Victoria’s Garden. Or maybe it was Queen Elizabeth’s Garden? The garden was really nice but it must be a little late in the season because the flowers were coming off the bloom. It was still quite pleasant.

Here’s the fountain in the middle of the garden.

There’s also an open air theatre, but it was gated and I forgot my grappling hook so I couldn’t sneak in for a photo.

Look at these cute kids playing footie in the park (don’t worry, it’s still really boring to watch even on this side of the pond):

From there I walked back to St. John’s Woods High Street. Along the way I noticed quite a few Porsches and Beamers and figured it must be a swanky area. It was. The High Street reminded me of downtown Wellesley: clean and boutiquey. Luckily, they still had a pub and I could stop for a quick pint after walking a few miles in the 30 degree heat, which I think translates into 112 degrees fahrenheit.

Finally it was time to head to the main attraction: Abbey Road. It had been a Beatles day throughout, and I was able to listen to Rubber Soul, Revolver and the White Album during my walk. I timed the playing of Abbey Road to coincide with my trip to the crosswalk and the studio.

Side note: in a very Boston-like move there’s a tube station called Abbey Road that has nothing to do with the famous Abbey Road that everybody wants to see. If you want to see Abbey Road you need to go to St. John’s Wood. By the by, St. John’s actual wood was a cricket bat, which is why the cricket grounds are located in that neighborhood. I would have liked to catch a test, but those things last weeks and we only have a few days in London.

It’s easy to figure out which crosswalk is the famous one due to the crowd of people standing around. The weird thing is that Abbey Road is a busy road, with cars and trucks fighting tourists who try to recreate the photo of The Beatles crossing the street. Most people draw lots to see who gets stuck being Ringo.

The actual Abbey Road studio is on the left side of the street. It’s still an active recording studio so people aren’t allowed to enter the gates. As you can see, many people leave a quick message to commemorate their visit:

It was very cool to be at Abbey Road. While the crosswalk itself only has slight magical powers it is amazing to think of all of the people who have been touched enough by The Beatles’ music, even 50 years later, to make the trip. Are there any current musicians who are iconic enough to warrant such devotion? Will Kid Rock’s favorite Waffle House become a tourist destination? (Actually, I sincerely hope it does.)

It’s weird that there’s not more Beatles-related stuff in the area. Obviously it’s a key tourist spot and a Beatles museum would be perfect. I’m sure there’s a Beatles museum in Liverpool, but we’re not in Liverpool now, are we love? This coffee shop is literally the only place that exploits the Beatles connection:

I headed back to the hotel to pick-up Lyn and we went to Harrod’s via Piccadilly Circus. And when I say “via Piccadilly Circus” I mean that I took us to the wrong tube station, but that’s part of the fun of traveling with someone who just walks around and takes the tube without having an entirely clear idea of where they’re going.

Piccadilly Circus is very Times Squaresy in the way that Times Square is both cool and annoying. We hung for a few minutes and grabbed a taxi to Harrod’s.

My first black taxi and OMIGODWHYDON’TWEHAVETHESE??? Wow, they’re spacious and clean and efficient and fantastic. Seriously, why don’t we have these in America? Not that I have anything against old Crown Vics and smelly Prius’s, but we need these stat.

Harrod’s is a pretty crazy store and we couldn’t help but spend $45,000 on a Warhol and a Dali. I’ve never seen a department store that sells fine art but sure enough there was a gallery hidden in the Qatar section. The Egyptian escalator is outrageous and I like how they keep prams and fat guys off the escalator with these poles:

The weirdest part of Harrod’s was the statute and memorial dedicated to Lady Di and Dodi al Fayed. For the record, I think it’s terrible that the two of them were murdered and it seems like Princess Di was a nice lady. That said, I’m generally anti-Diana. When you accept the job of Princess of England it’s a lifetime contract and you take the bad with the good. Keep your dalliances discreet and do the job you’re being paid for. Charles was obviously a loser when she married him, but that was the deal. Don’t enjoy the riches and fame and then push for a divorce and discredit the magnificent institution of fake royalty of a former empire. That’s just wrong.

After Harrod’s we went to the Gloucester pub for a traditional meal. We split a scotch egg (interesting), Lyn got the fish & chips and I got the bangers & mash. (Have you ever noticed that all British food features an ampersand?) The Gloucester wasn’t as good as the Water Poet but it was decent. I do like the pub style of ordering at the bar – no waiting for servers or checks. I think I’ve had my fill of British food for the moment and look forward to getting down with the French.

Tomorrow we’re booked on the Eurostar for a quick trip to Paris. London has been great but I’m really excited to visit France. There’s a strike or protest going on, but Say La Vee, Mon Amee.


Day 2: High Streets & Low Culture

“I’m going nowhere with nowhere to go”

- Al Stewart, Soho (Needless to Say)

Today was a work day for Lyn so my plan was to grab my map and my Walkman and check-out London. Unlike many travelers I don’t really have an agenda or an itinerary. I don’t really care if I see the famous stuff. I just like to walk around and immerse myself in the local culture. But first, coffee.

Coffee culture is weird in England because they don’t have regular brewed/drip coffee. Everything is espresso-based, which kind of sucks. So you have to choose between cappuccino (too foamy), latte (too milky) or Americano (too watery). Sure, I could just go to Starbucks and get a coffee, but that violates my two travel rules: buy local & never go to the same place twice.

Not too far from the hotel I found the Scooter Caffe on Lower Marsh Street:

No real coffee here

No real coffee here

From there I meandered over to the Waterloo tube stop (where I saw a British dude in a Larry Bird jersey!) to buy an Oyster card and make my way to Shoreditch in the East End. For musical accompaniment I chose Al Stewart’s Just Yesterday box set. It was perfect, listening to British folk while heading out of the city center.

The East End is purported to be the hipster part of town which promised a fun day of slightly seedy adventures – my kind of place. Getting off the train I saw this weird pop-up park where people were sunbathing and watching boring Euro sports (bicycling?):

They sure are pasty here

They sure are pasty here

Apparently it was part of a whole pop-up outdoor mall where each store was the size of a closet. It was pretty cool. I did not actually shop.

Real deals on name brands

Real deals on name brands

This graffiti mural captured the vibe of Shoreditch:

I like the graffiti but not the graffiti on it

I like the graffiti but not the graffiti on it

I then spent a while walking up and down Shoreditch High Street. In America we call them “Main Street”. There was a nice mix of seedy lots and upscale stores. I’m happy to report that a vinyl record store named “Sister Ray” was under construction. It looks like Lou Reed finally made it big in England.

Here’s the view down Shoreditch High Street:

Sure, I'll ditch work and hit the pub with you

Sure, I’ll ditch work and hit the pub with you

From there I needed to have breakfast (you people call it lunch – it was 3:00) and knew that a proper English pub would be the place. I used my beer divining skills to find The Water Poet:

Bury me here

Bury me here

I availed myself to some Camden Hells Lager (quite good) and a fish & chips. The key to surviving in London is just to pretend that the prices are normal American. So $16 sounds reasonable for a pint and a plate – much better than the $32 it really cost.

Cod? I've haddock.

Cod? I’ve haddock.

I limited myself to two pints (day drinking) and observed the locals. First, smoking is still very popular. But as a child reared by Bruce Willis I say “smoke ‘em if you got ‘em”. Secondly, they say “fuck” like every other word. Thirdly, they’re quite friendly but I can’t understand a goddamned word (besides fuck) they say, between the mumbling, the accents, the odd word choice and the general inebriation. Finally, what happened to British music? Somehow they made the best rock in the 60s and 70s but the current music is awful.

Reluctantly leaving The Water Poet I headed back towards the city and Liverpool Street. This is a view of the “famous” lipstick building (I never heard of it before so it can’t be that famous):

Find the bus!

Find the bus!

I made my way over to Spitalfields Market area which was quite lovely:

St. Swiggins?

St. Swiggins?

The actual Spitalfields Market is like a flea market surrounded by chain restaurants. As usual, I did not buy anything:

Where are the bootleg DVDs and ninja stars?

Where are the bootleg DVDs and ninja stars?

My last stop before heading back to Westminster was White Chapel High Street and the White Chapel Gallery. It was some crap modern art exhibit, but I’d much rather see some bad art than military monuments and stuff. Fight the power, mannnnnn!

After meeting up with Lyn we crossed over the Thames to the Embankment Gardens, which were lovely. The crazy thing is that the park was full of people just hanging out and boozing – the kind of thing you could never imagine happening in the Common or the Public Garden.

They should have taps built into the gate.

They should have taps built into the gate.

Fully embracing the spirit of pub culture I took Lyn to a real pub for some G&Ts. There’s not much A/C here so the locals escape the heat but getting their drinks in plastic cups and just hanging out in the street in front of the pub. It’s like al fresco dining without the food or tables:

I like this place!

I like this place!

Next, we walked through Charing Cross on the way to dinner. I don’t recall why Charing Cross is famous but I vaguely remember reading a book called 84 Charing Cross Road so I figured I should take a picture of it:

This might be famous

This might be famous

We went to a fun Mexican street food place called Wahaca for dinner, even though they serve small plates. The problem with small plates is that you pay twice as much for half the food and never have enough of the stuff you like and are stuck with too much stuff you don’t like. That’s how they get you!

After dinner we walked through the West End, Strand and the theatre district and Trafalgar Square. I don’t know who Trafalgar was, but that’s a huge ass statue on a tall column.

You can't see Trafalgar here, it was too dark

You can’t see Trafalgar here, it was too dark

Finally we looped back around to Westminster and passed this guy again. Tourists are legally required to take a picture of Big Ben every time you walk by him. It’s hard to capture in pictures or describe in words just how ornate Parliament and the Tower are. It’s really beautiful and impressive:

Hey kids...

Hey kids…

Last and least is the Eye of London. It looks cool all lit up at night but there’s no way I’m going on a boring Ferris wheel that takes an hour to go around. I’ve got maybe 15 minutes of Ferris wheel in me, tops.

Are there bathrooms on the cars?

Are there bathrooms on the cars?

Thus concludes day 2. Tomorrow…the Beatles!


Day 1: Arrival in London

Morning in America

I’ll never understand morning people. They act so superior just because they wake up early. They boast about how productive they are and how peaceful everything is before the day begins. Then they eat lunch at 11:00 and fall asleep on the couch at 9:00. Guess what, morning people, you’re not superior. You’re not more productive. You’re a farmer without a farm. Do you know what’s on TV at 5:00? The farm report. Do you know why? Because only farmers need to be awake that early. Now either get some cows or get some sleep already.

Needless to say, I was cranky due to my 5:30 pickup. Do you know what else is peaceful and deserted at 5:00 in the morning? The airport. So I had plenty of time to change my money and peruse the pornography at Hudson News.

Side note: what’s the deal with the airport porn anyway? Who’s buying so much porn at the airport that every airport newsstand has a robust porn section? Where are they reading all of this airplane porn?

Side side note: last time we went on vacation I ended up in the separate fourth seat and sat next to a European guy who proceeded to watch “Blue is the Warmest Color” on the flight. After the first graphic lesbian love scene he kept his finger on the fast forward button (no joke – his other hand was below the tray) but that first scene was a doozy. The old lady in our row seemed quite surprised. Come to think of it, he’s probably the target market for the airport porn.

NOT appropriate for the airplane, even for Euros

NOT appropriate for the airplane, even for Euros

Strange Currencies

When traveling internationally I always like to change $9,500 – not because I need that much money but because that’s the most you can change without getting the Feds involved. I seldom like to get the Feds involved in my affairs.

The thing about British money is that you have to worry about the exchange rate and the confusing denominations. A pound sterling is like one of our normal dollars but it costs almost 2 dollars to buy. The pound can be broken into pence, and just like our coins, it’s 100 pence to a pound. A farthing is half a pence and you get 16 farthings to a button.

What most Americans (aside from me, noted Anglophile) don’t understand is that the whole British currency system is based on the button standard. Obviously this dates back hundreds of years when all barter was based on buttons. I was surprised when I first learned this but it kind of make sense when you think about it. There are even remnants of the button standard in modern language: a “button man” is a paid assassin. “On the button” means to pay an exact amount.

That's NOT Dowager Grantham

That’s NOT Dowager Grantham

British Airways

Jealously coursed through my veins as I walked through the business class (or, as I like to call it, Lyn class) section of the plane. Their beautiful individual cabins, lie flat seats and porn privacy curtains looked dreamy. I was located in the sub-par middle section. Well I thought it was subpar until I visited the loo in the coach section and had to see what those poor chumps were dealing with: 5 seats across, no leather and nary a banger nor mash in sight. So that’s the first life lesson I’ve gained on this trip: bringer your own bangers if you’re traveling in coach. Oh, and be grateful for what you have because it could always be worse.

Upper Middle Class

Upper Middle Class

Finally in London

My reputation as poor driver is well deserved, but my reputation as an expert map reader is sadly under reported. After clearing customs (barely, I had a lot of foreign soil, produce and animals hidden in my bag) I made my way to the Heathrow Express (aka train) and then the Underground (aka subway). Now, I’ve always been a supporter of the MBTA but the tube was a very different experience. None of the passengers were loudly arguing with themselves or dancing to their cell phone speaker and there were three Bobbies (aka cops) on one long subway car. There’d have to be a mass murder for three cops to show up on the blue line back home. The first Bobbie I saw was an adorable woman with a cute checkered bowler hat. So, on the one hand, there’s a heavy police presence to deter crime. On the other hand, the cops can be described as adorable, lessening the impact of their presence.

Walking out of the underground I rain to this old fellow:


Not that Big, Ben

Not that Big, Ben

And from there I made my way to the Park Plaza Westminster, obviously hours too late for the Marc Ford show I was hoping to catch. Nonetheless I was happy to be in London after a full day of watching “Damages” season 3 on the plane. I availed myself to a traditional British supper of canned gin, weird beer and really cheesy Wotsits:



Side side side note: my phone doesn’t work at all so I’m fully dependent on free wifi for email and messaging. This really is the old country!

Tomorrow the real adventure begins…trying to figure out how to order coffee.






Day 0: Leaving Marblehead

“I love it when a plan comes together.”
- Colonel John “Hannibal” Smith (as portrayed by George Peppard)

Somehow it all came together. The boys were already booked for two weeks of sleep-away camp in New Hampshire when Lyn got the call for a business trip to London. For the cost of one additional steerage ticket we could turn this business trip into our first kid-free vacation since 1996. The plan is to spend two days in Paris and the rest of the week in London.

I figured that I’d try to document our trip through photos and words, assuming that they have the internet in Europe. As you’ll learn over the coming week, I know a LOT about the UK & France, having been to London for one day in 1987.

Today is my last day in Marblehead. On the agenda: a nice walk to the ocean, one final lobster roll, a little packing, and a quick 9 holes at Olde Salem Greens.

A Beautiful Day in Marblehead

This is what it looks like when you’re out on Marblehead Neck.

A view from Chandler Hovey Park

A view from Chandler Hovey Park

This is what it looks like when you’re a wharf rat. You’ll note that it’s much darker on this side of the harbor. That’s because I took this picture last night, Sherlock. (Sherlock Holmes was a famous British fictional detective who was most definitely not a wharf rat.)

A view from Crocker Park

A view from Crocker Park

Lobster Roll at the Muffin Shop

This is the Muffin Shop on Washington Street. People say their muffins are excellent. I’ve never had any because the early bird gets the muffin and I like to sleep late.

The Muffin Shop

The Muffin Shop

I figured that I’d get a lobster roll because they don’t have lobster rolls in London. You see, when Christopher Columbus first landed in America 16 of his crew were killed by wild lobsters (they hadn’t invented claw rubber bands yet) and now all of Europe is deathly afraid of lobsters. Also, you’ll see that I got some free “chips” with my roll. Now, in London, if you order “chips” you get “fries”. If you order “fries” you probably get old shoe leather or something. I don’t really know, but I do know that British people are terrible at cooking. These are the type of interesting historical and cultural facts that I hope to share throughout our journey.

Lobster Roll

Lobster Roll

Packing List

It’s important to park smartly before heading to Europe because if you forget anything you have to buy it over there and things are expensive and they have weird money and stuff. Plus, they’re always on vacation or strike or something in France. Here’s what I’m bringing:

  • 8 speedos
  • dress & casual crocs
  • fanny pack(s)
  • pants with removable legs
  • Spinal Tap, Season 4 of “Lovejoy”
  • football kit with kicks and scarves (London)
  • striped shirt, beret, baguette, bicycle, mime (Paris)
  • tie-dye tank top

Golf at Olde Salem Greens

It was a beautiful day for a little golf and today’s round did not disappoint. I played with <name redacted> and the match came down to the last putt. Sure, I lost by one stroke, but it was a perfect day nonetheless. When I was a kid I used to ask my Popper “who won?” when he’d come back from golf. He’d always respond, “oh, we don’t keep score.” Now, years later, I understand what he meant. The score is incidental when it comes to golf with friends. Here’s the ninth tee at Olde Salem Greens:

Ninth tee at Olde Salem Greens

Ninth tee at Olde Salem Greens

Tomorrow I have an early flight to London. I’m hoping to land in time to catch Marc Ford (former Black Crowes guitarist) at the Borderline in London. I already bought a ticket to the show but I may have miscalculated what time I’m arriving due to their stupid metric system. How was I supposed to know what time 19:35 is in England? Isn’t that Greenwich Mean Time anyway? Stupid Brits.

See you on the other side.



8 Great Country-Rock Steel Guitar Players

Part of the reason that I am obsessed with country-rock is because I can’t get enough of the sound of  the steel guitar, either of the pedal or lap variety. I will confess that for many years I had no idea what a steel guitar was: I honestly thought it was a guitar literally made out of steel (which in retrospect seems really heavy). Since then I’ve learned that the “steel” is actually the slide and the guitar has it’s origins in Hawaii, along with pineapples, spam and fat guys in garish shirts.

Now it’s impossible to list all of the great pedal steel players in music history and it’s often hard to draw a line between country-rock and country. For example, Dwight Yoakam is considered a country artist, but the Bakersfield sound he favors is closely aligned with California country-rock. The great Tom Brumley played with Dwight, and he’s one of Buck Owens’ Buckaroos which makes him country (of course, Buck Owens is considered one of the fathers of the Bakersfield sound and now my head is spinning). So I’m just going to attempt to list some of my favorites, in order of my exposure to them.

Jerry Garcia

Jerry briefly got obsessed with the pedal steel in 1970 and played one of the most famous pedal steel parts in rock history on Crosby, Stills & Nash’s “Teach Your Children”. Old Jer might not have been the best pedal steel player, but he did some mighty fine work for CSNY, the Dead and on the first New Riders of the Purple Sage album.

Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young – Teach Your Children

Ben Keith

Ben played with Neil Young for almost 40 years and was an original Stray Gator, starting with Neil’s breakthrough album “Harvest”. Ben helped to define Neil’s iconic country-rock sound that he’s returned to over the years. But rather than play something off of Harvest, let’s be a true rockist and bust out “For the Turnstiles” from “On the Beach”.

Neil Young – For The Turnstiles – Remastered

Buddy Cage

Buddy replaced Garcia as the steel player in New Riders of the Purple Sage after establishing his country-rock bona fides in Ian & Sylvia’s Great Speckled Bird. He also played on one of the greatest albums ever made – Bob Dylan’s “Blood on the Tracks”. Speaking of that, Buddy lays down a killer outro solo on “Meet Me in the Morning”.

Bob Dylan – Meet Me in the Morning

“Sneaky” Pete Kleinow

Of all of the great players on this list, Sneaky Pete is probably my favorite. First, he has a cool nickname that is spelled both “Sneeky” and “Sneaky”. Secondly, he was an animator on “Gumby” and “David & Goliath”. Finally, he ran his guitar through a fuzzbox which gave it a really unique sound. He’s most famous for playing with The Flying Burrito Brothers, but he did session work for everyone. “Christine’s Tune” isn’t my favorite FBB song but it’s a showcase for Pete and it was featured on the soundtrack for my favorite sexy vampire show.

The Flying Burrito Brothers – Christine’s Tune (Devil In Disguise)

Al Perkins

Al replaced Sneaky Pete in the FBB but is best known for playing with Stephen Stills’ Manassas and a million other great projects, including a little something called “Exile on Main Street” and both of Gram Parsons’ solo albums. There’s so much great stuff to choose from, but here’s “So Many Times” from the second Manassas LP “Down the Road”.

Stephen Stills – So Many Times

Rusty Young

Rusty Young is best known for playing in Poco, a band that got famous for their later soft-rock material but was the tightest, hottest country-rock band in the world for a while. Rusty ran his pedal steel through Leslie speakers which gave it a very organ-like tone. He also played a lot of dobro in Poco, sometimes going back and forth between the two instruments in a single song. What a great player. The first Poco-esque song is actually a beautiful Richie Furay song from Buffalo Springfield’s “Last Time Around” called “Kind Woman”.

Buffalo Springfield – Kind Woman

“Farmer” Dave Scher

Farmer Dave plays pedal steel and lap steel and keys in the criminally under-appreciated band Beachwood Sparks. His playing helps to create the dreamy texture that defines the fresh yet classic cosmic American sound of the band. “Desert Skies” is a great example of their skills.

Beachwood Sparks – Desert Skies

Jon Graboff

He of the bad jokes and the sweet steel, Jon is most famous for his stint with Ryan Adams & the Cardinals, but like many steel players he’s played on a lot of cool stuff over the years. Jon is obviously a lot younger than many of the players listed above, so it’s great to see a new generation of players on the scene. Here’s the beautiful “Dear John” from Ryan Adams & the Cardinals’ “Jacksonville City Nights” (featuring Norah Jones on vocals).

Ryan Adams & The Cardinals – Dear John

Bonus: Clarence White

While technically not a steel player, no list would be complete without Clarence White – one of the greatest guitar players that ever walked the planet. Clarence, along with Byrds band mate Gene Parsons, invented the stringbender, a special guitar doohicky that allows the B string to be “bent” into a C# by pulling the neck, creating a tone that sounds like a pedal steel. Clarence used this to great effect in The Byrds, especially on their “Live at the Fillmore” album. While the whole album showcases Clarence’s incredible skills, listen to their version of “Buckaroo” the iconic Buck Owens instrumental.

The Byrds – Buckaroo – Live

I hope this brief overview inspires you to listen to these pedal steel players and explore their respective discographies. The pedal steel, to my ear, is one of the most beautiful instruments in music and is a definitive aspect of the country-rock sound.

Here’s a spotify playlist with all of the songs mentioned above.






Album Review: Chris Robinson Brotherhood, Phosphorescent Harvest (2014)

Editor’s Note: In the grand tradition of the Black Crowes Album Project we’ll be offering you two reviews of the new CRB album – one from me and one from my long-time partner-in-crowes Don Lane. In honor of the freaky nature of the CRB I’ll be writing the review from a metaphysical perspective and Don will be writing from a musical perspective, but then again, isn’t it all just one review with different words?

IMG_0543Mitch’s Review:


Phosphorescent Harvest is the third studio album from the CRB coming on the heels of 2012’s Big Moon Ritual (review) and The Magic Door (review). The line-up is unchanged: Chris sings lead and plays guitar. Neal plays lead guitar and sings back-up. Adam plays keys and sings harmony. Muddy plays bass and sings harmony. George plays drums. Alan does the art.

I previously described Big Moon Ritual as a Jerry Garcia Band-esque album of jammed out blues-rock and ballads. The Magic Door tightened things up a bit and sounded like a psychedelic take on ‘50s rock and roll. The distinguishing characteristics were great songs, Chris’s soulful vocals, Neal’s tasteful solos, Adam’s trippy keys and beautiful harmonies.

Phosphorescent Harvest differs in 3 significant ways: 1) the songs were mostly co-written by Chris & Neal (as opposed to just Chris); 2) the songs were built in the studio over time, as opposed to being recorded live-in-studio; and 3) the sound is more spacey than trippy.


I realize that trying to distinguish between “spacey” and “trippy” may seem ridiculous, but to me there’s a notable difference that dates back to the heyday of psychedelic rock of the late 60s. The short-lived psychedelic rock era was reflective of two major developments. Primarily, it was an artistic manifestation of the youth society’s desire to reject establishment culture. This was accomplished by experimenting with the established structural form of songs. Secondly, it was representative of the technological advances in recording, specifically multi-track workstations. This turned the recording studio into an instrument in and of itself, taking it 2,000 light years away from merely capturing performances and into being an innovative creative tool (in the right hands).

As a Byrds-freak I credit America’s greatest band with popularizing psychedelic rock with the release of Eight Miles High in 1966. Now Eight Miles High is a trippy song, the trippiness coming from McGuinn’s playing an insane jazz guitar solo (inspired by Coltrane) alongside Hillman’s driving bassline. The trippiness is a product of the length and complexity of the tune as well as the unexpected jazz elements in a rock song.

By 1968 the Byrds had taken their psychedelic experiments to the next level with the release of The Notorious Byrd Brothers. Now that LP is more spacey than trippy. While the majority of songs are pretty straightforward at their core (including two Goffin/King compositions), the use of the Moog synthesizer and layered sound effects gives the album an unearthly feel. To listen to the The Notorious Byrd Brothers is to enter another dimension (a fifth dimension?) entirely. The experience is all encompassing, there’s a sense of place that pervades the entire album, an ethereal through-line that connects the songs. You don’t just listen to the album, you get lost in it.

That’s the difference between trippy and spacey. Trippy music surprises you with the unexpected. Spacey music transports you to another dimension. And that’s a long way of saying that Phosphorescent Harvest is a spacey album. Let’s call it the Notorious Byrds Brotherhood.


Speaking of synthesizers, as McGuinn’s Moog dominates the sound of NBB, McDougall’s keyboards dominate PH. For me, I love the sound and I honestly think that there is no CRB without that crucial element. Then again, I love Ozzie Ahlers’ playing with Garcia in 1980 and I know that he was quite polarizing. My working theory is that fans from the blues-rock side of town have trouble accepting songs that aren’t driven by guitars. Sure, a roadhouse piano or a Hammond organ is nice, but those are used for texture. Adam’s keys are all over the place, the sound can be very weird, and either you dig it or you hate it. There’s very little middle ground when it comes to the keyboards on PH, you’re either going to get your freak on or freak out.


Let’s speculate on the influence of Neal Casal on the songwriting. Now, I’m no rookie when it comes to Neal as I’ve listened to his solo stuff for years and loved his stint in the Cardinals. And perhaps I’m reading too much into his Yes tee shirt, but the major change I hear in the arrangements is the addition of some serious prog-rock elements. I actually don’t hear much Yes in the songs (Yes to me is tight classicism) but I’m getting a dash of Traffic (more organic) and a smidge of Floyd, which is weird because I don’t get that from his solo stuff. But it’s definitely there on PH, the complexity of the song structures, the frequent changes, the unexpected turns. So, knowing that Neal co-wrote the songs, hearing the addition of progressive elements and seeing the Yes tee shirt is enough evidence for me to convict.

Of course I mean “convict” in the most positive sense, because prog-rock was a big part of my early music education and I adored Genesis and Yes (thankfully I never got into King Crimson or ELP and was eventually allowed to marry and procreate).

The beautiful thing about prog-rock is that the structure of songs into parts and suites gives you the sensation of listening to one song and a hundred songs at the same time. Then again, we know that all music is one song expressed in different ways.


You can believe in whatever philosophy or religion you like, but the only truth is that everything in the material world is a part of the same energy and it is only our false perception that creates a sense of individuality and separateness. 99% of our lives are spent inside our own minds, confusing our idiotic thoughts for reality. Even when we know this intellectually we still struggle with it experientially. That is our gift and our curse as humans. We embrace suffering as a cost of happiness, truly only knowing contentment when we stop thinking and start experiencing the present moment on it’s own terms.

There are many paths to contentment. You can reach it through meditation or exercise or drugs or sound or whatever allows you to exert control over the swirl of the mind stuff.

Music has the power to provoke many reactions. Some are overt, like the desire to shake one’s hips due to the presence of a strong beat. And some are subtle, rooted in the transference of energy from performer to listener. As we all know, energy cannot be created or destroyed, it can merely evolve and take on different forms.

When people ask me what kind of music I like I usually just say hippie rock or country-rock because the truth would be too off-putting. The truth is that I love head music.

Head music is music that is designed to take one out of their head – to provoke a cessation of the swirling of the mind stuff. Obviously this type of music is closely associated with the Grateful Dead, but it is not solely the province of the Dead or jambands. Actually, the reason I don’t listen to many jambands is because I think it’s the opposite of head music. They’ve taken the jamming part of the Dead and emphasized the mechanical aspect of the performance while losing the energetic transference part of the equation. Even the Dead had trouble sustaining this beyond the heady peak of Anthem of the Sun & Live/Dead. For example, I’d much rather listen to Jonathan Wilson than Phish. I can appreciate Phish on an intellectual level but I can connect with Jonathan Wilson on a much deeper, energetic level.

Obviously the CRB is head music, and good head music at that.


Over the many years that I’ve written about music I’ve felt compelled to rate and review the songs, as if I was providing some valuable service to the world and placing a numerical value on songs was part and parcel of music criticism.

The problem is that I’ve long stopped thinking of myself as a critic of music. I don’t like writing negative things. I write about stuff that I’m passionate about. The act of writing is really another way for me to connect with the art on a more personal level. It’s a way for me to process my own thoughts about the work.

And yet, I have an obsessive personality and feel a compulsion to keep on truckin’. So here are my song-by-song ratings:

Shore Power 3
About a Stranger 4
Meanwhile in the Gods… 3
Badlands Here We Come 3
Clear Blue Sky 4
Beggar’s Moon 4
Wanderer’s Lament 4
Tornado 4
Jump the Turnstyles 3
Burn Slow 4
Humboldt Windchimes 4
Star Crossed Lonely Sailor 4

Phosophorescent Harvest 3.6 (out of 4)

Don’s Review:

The Chris Robinson Brotherhood hatched in 2011 and immediately road-tested material that became the sister records Big Moon Ritual and The Magic Door, released months apart in 2012. In retrospect, each feels incomplete unless played together, which may be as Robinson intended. Combined, they are a two-set odyssey reflective of the band’s live shows, featuring throwback covers like Hank Ballard’s “Let’s Go! Let’s Go! Let’s Go!” mixed in with a few re-arranged Black Crowes songs and a surprisingly prolific range of originals. This was a band attempting something simultaneously familiar and original. Could it go backwards and forwards at the same time?

Phosphorescent Harvest is an emphatic “yes” – a fully realized manifestation of the CRB’s three-year trip. A proper album with lyrics exploring timeless themes of love and resilience floating over a kaleidoscopic, deeply layered soundscape. Like the band itself, the recording is carefree, confident and, at times unabashedly weird.

Robinson and his work have always been a conundrum, simultaneously brash and big voiced yet sensitive and reflective. “Harvest’s” songs run the gamut, from the opening “Shore Power,” a psychedelic sock hop jumpstarted by spacey keyboards, to the utterly gorgeous bonus b-side, “Star Crossed Lonely Sailor.” In between, as each track unfolds, the Brotherhood mine early rock and roll influences with a spin so fresh it’s as if they are making it up as they are going along.

But make no mistake, these are carefully crafted songs played by a band with chemistry that can only come from sharing a van for nearly 200 gigs during their first two years together. All but two were co-written by Robinson and guitarist Neal Casal.

The Brotherhood is a B.A.N.D. with distinctive, irreplaceable players. The quintet’s rhythm section (Mark Dutton, bass, and George Sluppick, drums) hold things down with a backbeat shuffle or more purposeful gait, always just what the Good Doctor ordered. Keyboardist Adam MacDougall’s creativity is mind-blowing, equal measures shocking, funny and beautiful. Casal’s guitar playing has risen to MacDougall’s challenge with more bite than on the band’s earlier studio output.

But it’s Chris Robinson who has matured the most, almost surprisingly so considering he has the least to prove. His range never disappoints, changing character depending on the song, from the Dylan-esque sass of the first “Badlands Here We Come” verse to the rock and roll bridge in the middle of “Meanwhile In The Gods.” His voice is at its apex on “Wanderer’s Lament,” as beautiful and haunting as a harvest moon.

Black Crowes fans should be worried, because Robinson may never look back. As he strums his acoustic guitar to begin the coda to the album closer “Burn Slow,” it feels like he’s finally found not only what he needs, but what he wants.
Shore Power – 3
About A Stranger – 4
Meanwhile In The Gods – 3
Badlands Here We Come – 4
Clear Blue Sky & The Good Doctor – 4
Beggar’s Moon – 4
Wanderer’s Lament – 4
Tornado – 4
Jump The Turnstiles – 3
Burn Slow – 3
(Bonus “45 A-Side) Humboldt Windchimes – 3
(Bonus “45 B-Side) Star Crossed Lonely Sailor – 4

AVG = 3.58 (out of 4)


Read lots more about the Chris Robinson Brotherhood, the Black Crowes and music in general here.

Album Review: Trigger Hippy (2013)

In his cooking memoir “Heat” Bill Bruford writes about legendary late-night dinners in New York City, where accomplished chefs would cook for each other and drink, smoke and tell war stories until the break of dawn. With no customers to cater to and no critics to sway the Chefs were free to just do their thing. They could experiment. They could impress their peers. They could fail. But most importantly, they could remember when the art of cooking was their passion, before it became their life, their business and their master.


In today’s modern music scene, too many “artists” are using music as a means to an end. They want the fame. They want the money. But they don’t care about the song.

The song is all that should matter! The song that reflects our past, defines our present, and provides a signpost to the future. The song has nothing to do with genre or success and everything to do with sincerity and human expression. The song is why we love music.


Individually the members of Trigger Hippy have nothing to prove.

Founder Steve Gorman helped to propel The Black Crowes to the top of the charts, produced one of the greatest rock albums ever (“The Southern Harmony and Musical Companion”) and proved himself to be one of the few living drummers capable of holding John Bonham’s sticks.

His partner in rhythm Nick Govrik is the band’s secret weapon, a funky bassist who writes songs that stop you cold and demand your attention.

Singer Joan Osborne burst on the scene by adding an entry to the Great American Songbook (“One of Us”), and then proceeded to bring her strong soulful voice to a variety of styles and songs. Whether originals or covers, Joan brings it every time, usually improving upon the template. And then she became a part of the Grateful Dead family and resurrected the long-neglected Pigpen blues tunes, literally blowing everyone’s minds and expectations.

Jackie Greene does it all. He can play anything with strings, plus keys and harp. He’s an amazing songwriter (cue up “Love Song; 2:00 am” sometime) but best of all is that voice. To listen to Jackie sing is to realize how rare truly brilliant rock singers are. His voice is smooth, it’s strong, it’s expressive, it’s soulful and it’s sweet.

Lead guitarist Tom Bukovac is a classic “you don’t know him but you’ve definitely heard him” guy. A musician’s musician, Tom is the hottest session player in the business, winning industry award after award, while staying in the shadows. His work with Trigger Hippy will shine some richly-deserved light on his skills.


With the Record Store Day release of their self-titled debut, Trigger Hippy makes a great first impression. While only containing four songs (all originals) the EP shows many facets of the band while hinting at future possibilities and leaving us desperate for more.

The lead single “Turpentine” kicks things off with the band’s signature – the twin vocals of Joan & Jackie. Listening to them makes you wonder why more bands don’t explore the male/female vocal combination. Joan and Jackie blend together magnificently and the possibilities are endless. The song itself is a fun, upbeat tune with guitars both crunchy and ringing and a trippy summertime vibe. Best of all, you can hear plenty of space for this tune to explode in a live setting.

Next up is “Heartache on the Line” which is a gorgeous ballad. Even with a slow dance the band flexes its muscles, with Gorman hitting hard, a soulful organ, and layers of sounds that build into a cohesive whole. Of course Jackie & Joan deliver another stellar vocal performance.

Things get a little funkier with “Pocahantas”, which has a little “Trampled Underfoot” vibe going on and short but effective guitar and keyboard solos in the middle.

Closing out the set is “Ain’t Persuaded Yet” a bluesy story-song that really lets Joan and the rhythm section shine. Nick lays down a sweet bass line, Gorman thunders and the guitar very subtly steps back to create an ominous atmosphere.

All four tracks are great and will garner multiple listens. Based on my own predilection for weepy country-rockers, “Heartache on the Line” will be in heavy rotation. I can’t hear that song enough, which is always the true sign of success for me.


For a new band Trigger Hippy exudes an astonishing level of confidence and polish. There’s no holding back and no half-measures. They just go for it on every song. It’s the type of music that works as pleasant background music but also rewards careful listening. Focusing on the individual parts reveals just how perfectly constructed these tunes are, how they come together with intent and purpose.

I’m excited to see where Trigger Hippy takes us next. The blues as a genre has long been dormant, with much celebration of the past but little innovation. Yet here’s a blues band that is changing the formula by adding soulful voices, a funky bass, and a drummer that swings to the expected guitar virtuosity.


In my mind there are musicians gathered around a table, late at night after the gig’s over and the fans have gone home, sharing a meal, a drink and a smoke and talking about music. Not about their careers, but about their passion, their inspiration and their ideas. They’re excited about music and remembering why they walked down such a crazy path in the first place. And at that table are Steve, Jackie, Joan, Nick & Tom, dreaming up a vision for Trigger Hippy, a band built on passion, love and mutual respect.

(By the way, I’m also at that table, spreading good vibes. Hey, it’s my dream after all).

15 Deadwood Actors Who Found Work at FX

David Milch’s Deadwood is one of the great TV dramas of the new Golden Age of Television. Running on HBO from 2004-2006 the show resurrected the Western genre through beautiful visuals, excellent writing, memorable characters and masterful cursing. But more than just being a classic show, Deadwood has served a far greater purpose as a virtual casting pool for FX.

1) Timothy Olyphant starred as Sheriff Seth Bullock…

"I hated Skyler White long before everyone else"

…only to become Marshall Raylan Givens on Justified

"I'll trim the 'stache, but I'm keeping the hat"

2) Ian McShane played the incomparable Al Swearengen…

"Don't call me Swidgen"

…before crazy-ing it up as Leigh Emerson on American Horror Story

"I've still got that Lovejoy mullet"

3) W. Earl Brown was loyal underling Dan Dority…

"Sigh, more blood to clean up"

…long before he was fugitive Cal Wallace on Justified

"I'll be back in the future with less hair"

…or Phil Critter on American Horror Story

"Yeah, that's me in the dark"

4) Paula Malcomson was Trixie the hooker with the heart of gold…

"Sol Star left me for the big screen"

…before returning to her native Ireland as Maureen Ashby on Sons of Anarchy

"Don't blame me for that shitty season"

5) Dayton Collie was deep-voiced messenger Charlie Utter…

"Aw, Jane, let me clean you up"

…before becoming Chief Wayne Unser on Sons of Anarchy

"Aw, Gemma, let me clean you up"

6) Robin Weigert was a mess as Calamity Jane…

"Anyone up for a drink?"

…before a quick guest spot as Cynthia Potter on American Horror Story

"No screengrabs for guest stars"

…and a recurring role as lawyer Ally Lowan on Sons of Anarchy

"Surprisingly, bikers are cleaner than prospectors"

7) Sean Bridgers was sweet, dumb Johnny Burns…

"I like working at the Gem"

…until he made the inevitable guest appearance on Justified as Virgil Corum

"I miss working at the Gem"

8) The great Jim Beaver was the most honorable Mr. Whitney Ellsworth…

"What you see is what you get"

…until he became Sheriff Shelby Parlow on Justified

"What you see is not what you get"

10) Kim Dickens played Madame Joanie Stubbs…

"I have a smaller hat under this hat"

…and parlayed that role into Madame Collette Jane on Sons of Anarchy

"Okay, maybe I look better without the hat"

11) Titus Welliver played creepy Silas Adams…

"One day I'll pass for Irish"

…before getting his Irish on as IRA boss Jimmy O’Phelan on Sons of Anarchy

"At least my fake accent is better than Jax's"

12) Peter Jason was Con Stapleton…

"I borrowed Joanie's hat"

…until he called old buddy Tim Olyphant for a spot as Owen Carnes on Justified

"No screengrab for me"

13) Who could forget Keone Young as Mr. Wu?


…not Sons of Anarchy, who cast him as crime boss Bohai Lin

"Feed him to the hogs, Wu"

14-15) Garrett Dillahunt played two different roles on Deadwood – Jack McCall…

"I went to the lazy eye school of acting"

…and Francis Wolcott…

"Yup, same actor, different guy"

…before appearing on Damages as Marshall Phillips

"You might also recognize me from Raising Hope"

In other words, Timothy Olyphant is an actor’s best friend.

Handicapping the 2013 ALCS, Private Investigator-Style

Today the internet will be bursting with sabermetricians breaking down this year’s ALCS, where the phoenix-like Boston Red Sox will take on the comeback Tigers from Detroit.

So while others will be discussing how many starts Justin Verlander will be able to make or whether Xander Bogaerts will ever get to pinch hit for Stephen Drew*, I wanted to focus on a less-visible but perhaps more important method for handicapping the series, namely, which team is represented by the better fictional private investigator.

(* Side note: Is Stephen Drew a masochist or is he just trolling Red Sox nation? Who in their right mind signs with the same team that their brother played for, after their brother was viciously ripped apart by the media and fans for 5 years? Aside from his playoff grand slam JD Drew was reviled in Boston. His biggest sin? Being perceived as an underachiever, the absolute worst crime in Boston, a town that values over-achieving dirt dogs who slap on the stirrups no matter how injured they are. Most shocking is that Stephen is wearing the SAME NUMBER 7 that JD wore. I vote troll. Well done, Stephen.)


First, a little background:

Magnum, P.I. was a popular CBS television show that starred Tom Selleck as Thomas Magnum. Magnum lived and worked on Robin Masters’ estate in Hawaii, ostensibly as the head of security, but most episodes featured him taking on side gigs, usually to save a damsel in distress. Magnum was famous for his glorious moustache, his impossibly short khaki shorts, his Hawaiian shirts and his signature Detroit Tigers cap. The show ran for 8 seasons, 162 episodes in total, and averaged about 17mm weekly viewers. Selleck won an Emmy for his portrayal of the charismatic Viet Nam vet.

Spenser: For Hire was a television series based on the popular novels by the late Robert B. Parker. Robert Urich played Spenser, the tough yet intellectual detective who used his fists, his gun and his wits to thwart the local mob, random toughies and anyone who threatened underprivileged children. The television series only ran for 3 seasons, 66 episodes in total, and was cancelled due to the high cost of shooting on location in Boston. (4 TV movies starring Joe Mantegna were also produced). The Spenser book series was much more successful, with 40 books published until the 2010 death of author Robert B. Parker (who was probably murdered by someone from Detroit).


Magnum is consistently portrayed as an avid Tigers fans, which was his grandfather’s favorite team. His favorite player was Al Kaline. However, it was also revealed that as a child he rooted for the Washington Senators. Living in Hawaii, Magnum doesn’t attend or watch any Tigers games. Even though Robin Masters is a billionaire he was apparently too cheap to spring for the MLB Extra Innings Package.

Spenser is a diehard Sox fan. He frequently references players both past and present. His listens to Sox games in the car, commenting on the announcers. He is constantly watching and talking about the Sox. Red Sox games and Fenway Park are occasionally featured in the mysteries. In many ways, the Red Sox are one of the key localizing elements of the Spenser series.

This one is an easy call…Magnum’s obviously a pink hat.



Now we’re talking.

On the one hand, Magnum hangs with Rick, who is not nearly as cool as he thinks he is. On the other hand, Magnum also hangs with TC, who is amazing. Plus, TC has a bad-ass chopper, painted in the exact same brown and orange color scheme as my childhood kitchen in the 70s. Magnum’s friendly adversary is Higgins, a prissy Brit who likes to dress like Bwana Jim with his pants pulled all the way up to his nipples.

Spenser has the coolest sidekick of all time, Hawk. Hawk was tough, Hawk was cool, Hawk kept it real. He was great with a shotgun and even better with the ladies. To be honest, I’m getting a little verklempt just thinking about Hawk, who was so great he got his own spin-off show.

Spenser’s friendly adversaries were Belson and Quirk from the Boston PD. While amusing enough (they had an Unger-Madison thing going on) they weren’t as important as Higgins.

So while Higgins bests Belson & Quirk, Hawk easily takes TC & Rick, chopper be damned.



Spenser is pretty non-descript. When not working out at the boxing gym he likes to wear jeans, tee shirts and a leather jacket. He also dons a Red Sox cap when working undercover or battling the elements. While Robert Urich was an attractive man, Spenser is also portrayed as being more charismatic than handsome, with the face and hands of an ex-boxer.

Magnum was the epitome of 80s sexiness. Shakespeare would have written sonnets about that thick, luxurious moustache of his. He also contradicts one of Homer Simpson’s most famous aphorisms (“There’s only two kinds of guys who wear Hawaiian shirts: gay guys and big fat party animals.”)

Obviously we’ve got to give this one to Magnum. They even named plus-sizes condoms after him, for God’s sake.



Magnum had unlimited access to his boss Robin Masters’ bright red Ferrari, obviously a show-stopper of a car. The only thing young boys dream of more than having a thick moustache is driving a Ferrari.

Spenser, while not driving a Ferrari, drives a sweet ‘66 Ford Mustang, reportedly as homage to Steve McQueen.

Now, while this one might seem like a home run for Magnum, let’s really think about it for a second. They’re private eyes. They need to tail suspects. In a loud, bright red Ferrari. Why don’t you just drive an ice cream truck blaring “Turkey in the Straw”, Magnum?



Magnum was the first TV show to sensitively portray Viet Nam veterans in the years immediately following the fall of Saigon. While the media tended to portray Viet Nam vets as dangerous or unstable, Magnum and his buddies were deeply affected by the war but successfully reintegrated into society. Score one for Magnum.

Spenser was also a veteran (of the Korean War) but the show didn’t really contain any commentaries on war; However, the show did examine race relations through the friendship of Spenser and Hawk, against the backdrop of Boston. That’s pretty ballsy.

Culturally, Magnum is probably a better-known figure, benefitting from the longevity and popularity of the show. Plus, Magnum is a kick-ass Halloween costume. I do wonder if awareness of Magnum is starting to recede, as the show isn’t really something the kids are binge-watching on Netflix.

Spenser is probably a more enduring character as the book series is far-reaching and well-respected. Spenser books are still being written even after the death of Robert B., proving that people in airports across the country are still looking for breezy tales of investigators who drink three beers with every lunch and half a bottle of scotch each night.



In a clear, decisive victory, Spenser takes Magnum down 3-1-1, virtually guaranteeing a win for the Boston Red Sox. Plus, it’s 2013: beards are much cooler than moustaches.

Thanks for reading. Enjoy the series!

[By the way, I’ve written about Magnum before. Click here to read: “Magnum, P.I.’s Short Shorts and the Golden Age of Television”]

False Duality & the Three Endings of ‘Breaking Bad’

For the last several seasons of Breaking Bad we’ve been living with a false duality: is the real Walter White the emasculated genius Walter Hartwell White or the cunning criminal mastermind Heisenberg?

With each successive immoral decision the scales tipped further in Heisenberg’s favor, culminating in the memorable scene of Walter lying on the ground in ‘Crawlspace’, having lost his money, seemingly having lost his mind, and visually framed as if in a coffin. It was presumed to symbolize the final death of Walter White and the permanent ascension of Heisenberg.

As the series finale “Felina” demonstrated, in actuality neither persona was the real Walter White. Both were merely masks: Heisenberg as the confident id who could bend reality to his will and Walter White as the subsumed ego, who swallowed his immense anger and pride in order to survive as an unremarkable family man.

The real Walter White was the same Walter White that we always knew: a toxic blend of genius and hubris, a master liar whose greatest victim was himself.

Walter White’s original sin, the fuel that powered Heisenberg, was the false belief that he was doing it for his family. This is the lie that allowed the Heisenberg persona to commit awful acts while retaining his innate Walter Whiteness. Immoral acts powered by a moral justification.

It was only when Walter White lost his moral justification that he was no longer able to tap into the power and confidence of Heisenberg. The death of Hank in “Ozymandias” crossed his one indelible line, as his actions directly led to the death of family (even if he temporarily blamed Jesse) and the rejection from his son Flynn in “Granite State” robbed him of his motivation.

Another feint: the show was always pitched as the transformation of Mr. Chips into Scarface. But while Walter’s actions changed the person never did. He was always just Walter White.

(Walter) White + black (Hat) = Grey (Matter)


The biggest surprise in “Felina”, however, wasn’t the reveal of the inner workings of Walter White/Heisenberg. The real shock was the fact that the bad guys won in the end.

Breaking Bad has always been a moral universe – meaning that bad people were punished for their immoral actions. Even people who appeared to be innocent (Hank, Andrea) ended up dying due to their association with the blue meth (both were unwitting financial beneficiaries of the drug empire). This held true for about 60 episodes.

And then Walt and Jesse got away with it.

In reality, Jesse was a drug dealer and a thief. He killed Gale. Yes, he was full of remorse. Yes, he was more lovable than any Ed Hardy-wearing punk should be. But he was still a bad guy, who we cheered as he choked the life out of Todd and made his getaway. Score 1 for the immoral universe.

Walter was the devil. He committed unspeakable acts in service to his pride and ego. In the end he was able to enact revenge upon all of his (past and present) enemies, get the drug money to his family, reconcile with Skyler, say goodbye to his daughter, take the off-brand blue meth off the market, and get his family out of legal jeopardy while giving Marie closure for Hank’s death. Most importantly, he got to die on his own terms, by his own hand, and in the arms of his one true love (the lab), just like the song says. Score 2 for the immoral universe.


I actually think the series could have ended after any of the last 3 episodes, with each one imparting a different meaning for Walter’s story.

“Felina” was the “redemption” ending, where all the pieces came together as planned and the bad guy gets away with it. In shows where the protagonist is an anti-hero happy endings are usually satisfying, as viewers identify with the anti-hero and want them to win. But what does this ending mean? It appears that the show is saying that Walter succeeds in the end as a reward for his finally being honest about his intentions. That once he embraced reality (instead of trying to define reality) he could go out on his own terms.

“Granite State” was the “purgatory” ending, where the protagonist gets away with the crime, but loses everything they hold dear and is left with nothing but regret and self-reflection. The scene of Walter, powerless, paying the disappearerer $10,000 for a game of cards would have been a perfect return to the powerless, emasculated Walter from the pilot. He started cooking meth when he thought he had nothing to lose only to realize that he had much more than he thought, but he was too bitter and blind to see it.

“Ozymandias” was the “everyone dies” ending, where the protagonist finally meets his match. There would have been some elegance to this ending, where Walter the genius – who bested Gus the meticulous crime lord – is brought down by a gang of sloppy, remorseless Nazis. This would have been the scientific ending – that once you start an experiment you lose control of the reaction.


So, as it turns out, a show about Mr. Chips turning into Scarface wasn’t really about transformation. And a show about hard science turned out to be about spiritual redemption. Go figure.