A Rare Outdoor Concert by Powerhouse Saxophonist Eric Wyatt on His Home Turf

Tenor saxophonist Eric Wyatt plays a hard-hitting, no-nonsense style of postbop jazz that he developed not in hushed Manhattan listening rooms but in the wee hours at dives deep in his native Brooklyn. For Wyatt, jazz is entertainment, but also part of a tradition that for him has a cutoff point about 1959. If a smoky, purist oldschool sound is your thing, he’s playing a rare daytime show at noon on August 2 with a group TBA at Columbus Park, Cadman Plaza East and Johnson St. in downtown Brooklyn, a couple of blocks down Court St. from Borough Hall.

This blog’s favorite Wyatt album, Borough of Kings, came out in 2014. It’s probably the wildest record that the Posi-Tone label ever put out and it may not have sold well because they never put out another one. The band have a feral, careening time through a mix of postbop originals that frequently fade out instead of ending cold. There are pros and cons with that kind of haphazard approach, but it goes to show how hard it probably was to rein in Wyatt’s propensity for unhinged energy in a studio setting.

There’s more recent Wyatt out there, one prime example being an hourlong video from the jam session at Smalls, which he frequently leads. This one’s from New Years Day, 2022 (actually January 2 considering that the jam there invariably starts sometime after midnight). There doesn’t seem to be much of a crowd in the house, and Wyatt starts out in a slightly more subdued mood. Here he’s leading a quartet with an extrovert drummer (who isn’t credited in the shownotes or at the Smalls event page), along with Benito Gonzalez on piano and Jason Maximo Clotter on bass.

The tumbling drums match Gonzalez’s insistent lefthand crunch as Wyatt chooses his spots with a modal smolder in the first number, a Mongo Santamaria tune. As the set goes on, Wyatt seldom veers far from that intensity. Gonzalez relishes his chance to do his own hard-hitting chromatic thing up the scale over the crash and burn behind him.

The band hit a loosely tethered swing in Sonny Rollins’ Silver City, Wyatt gruff and acerbic but also wickedly precise with his arpeggios, balancing that with little more than a hint of the savagery he can conjure. Gonzalez relentlessly evades anything approximating major or minor; Clotter evokes burbling horn voicings with his cheery solo. Gonzalez finally takes it to Cuba at the end.

Wyatt keeps his modal edge through a McCoy Tyner tune that Gonzalez brought to the session, the pianist exploring it with a slightly more light-fingered attack over the rhythm section’s staggered swing. By now, the conversations are starting, Gonzalez shadowing Wyatt as the drummer fuels the blaze.

Oh yeah, if you’re wondering where Wyatt gets his sound, his godfather is Sonny Rollins.

Wild Balkan Brass Icons Slavic Soul Party Stage a Queens Blowout

How cool is it when you find out you were in the crowd when one of your favorite bands was making a a live album? This blog was in the house on August 20, 2019 when Brooklyn’s best-loved Balkan brass band, Slavic Soul Party recorded a handful of tunes which appear on their latest concert record, streaming at Bandcamp.

What was the show like? Blurry. That was one wild night. If you missed it – or the mostly-weekly Tuesday night series in Park Slope that they played for the better part of sixteen years before the 2020 lockdown – you can hear them outdoors on August 2 at 7 PM at Gantry Plaza State Park in Long Island City. You can take the 7 to Vernon-Jackson, walk to 48th Ave. and take it straight to the river, or take the G to 21st/Van Alst, take 45th Ave. as far toward the water as you can and then make a left.

Back in 2016, Slavic Soul Party put out a deviously erudite Balkan brass remake of Duke Ellington’s Far East Suite, and the opening number, Amad opens this record. Accordionist Peter Stan provides an intro to this version, from March of the following year, launching a suspenseful river of sound, then torrents of chromatics, then the brass kick in over the clip-clip beat of Matt Moran’s bubanj. Tapan drummer Chris Stromquist keeps a slinky groove going on as the horns pulse closer and closer to New Orleans.

Nizo’s Merak, from one of the band’s last pre-lockdown shows there in November, 2019, begins as one of the Balkan/hip-hop mashups they made a name for themselves with and shifts into bracing, chromatic Serbian territory on the wings of a trumpet solo. For a band who had so many members who play in other projects, it’s remarkable how little the lineup has changed over the years. That’s John Carlson and Kenny Warren on trumpets, Peter Hess on sax, Tim Vaughn and Adam Dotson on trombones and Kenny Bentley on tuba.

Considering how much of a party the Tuesday night residency was, the split-second precision of the horns on this July, 2018 version of Balada is pretty amazing, Stan’s liquid accordion lines holding it together. Same with the rapidfire minor-key brass flurries over the subtle side-step rhythm in Romano Pravo, from the March 2017 gig. The tantalizingly brief accordion-and-drums breakdown was always a big audience hit, and this is a prime example.

Truth is one of their rarer, slower, more balmy numbers, Stan methodically working his way from choosing his spots to his usual supersonic pirouettes. The next number, 323 is a showcase for the band’s funkier side. The three tunes from the August 20, 2019 show – Romski Merak, Sing Sing Čoček, and Missy Sa-sa – appear here as an increasingly delirious, roughly seventeen-minute suite that covers pretty much all the bases. Steve Duffy plays tuba here as the band fire off biting doublestops, enigmatic whole-note solos, and a couple of hailstorm drum breaks.

After a brief rat-a-tat “Latino Band Medley,” the band close with FYC, a feast of disquieting Eastern European tonalities with a couple of careening trumpet and trombone solos recorded in July of 2018.

Since these are field recordings that the band released as merch during the time that disgraced ex-Governor Andrew Cuomo had criminalized live music in New York, the sound is on the trebly side, although there surprisingly isn’t a lot of audience noise. At the Queens show, you won’t be able to hear any of the “amazing music that Quince puts on at the end of the night” at the Park Slope gigs, as the group mention on the Bandcamp page. But all New Yorkers will be able to see the show since the bar was weaponized to discriminate against patrons who didn’t take the lethal Covid injection.

Amythyst Kiah Plays an Enticing Triplebill at Lincoln Center Out of Doors

In 2018, this blog called Amythyst Kiah “a force of nature and then some.” She’s a double threat on both blues guitar and oldtime banjo, and a powerful singer with a defiant populist streak and a deep historical awareness. This year she’s one of the few highlights of what has been the worst-ever series of Lincoln Center Out of Doors concerts, with a gig out back of the complex in Damrosch Park tomorrow night, July 30 at around six. Pensive Turkish chanteuse Aynur opens the night at 5 PM; thunderous Ukrainian folk-punk stompers Dakhabrakha headline. Seats are first-come, first-served.

Kiah’s album Wary & Strange came out last year and is streaming at Bandcamp. Those who haven’t seen her live should be aware that she’s infinitely more raw and uncompromising onstage. These songs are good, but, clearly, she’s still figuring out how they translate in the studio. It would be great to hear her flex on the frets the way she can, and nix the techy glitches the next time out.

One of the most memorable songs is Black Myself, a roaring, multitracked blues tune where she turns a litany of racial assumptions upside down. Hangover Blues has a funny wah guitar track mimicking a blues harp. Kiah nicks a famous Dylan riff for Firewater, a reflection on exorcising psychological ghosts. Then she springboards off an iconic Rev. Gary Davis tune for Tender Organs, a vehicle for her purist, incisively edgy oldschool soul guitar work.

In Ballad of Lost, Kiah reaffirms that she’s just as much at home with a wistful country waltz. One suspects that she really kicks out the jams in concert with the rock tune and the smoldering soul ballad afterward, but trying to make hip-hop out of them is a mindfuck.

There’s plenty more of Kiah online. Ludicrous as the idea of covering Joy Division’s Love Will Tear Us Apart may be, Kiah reinvents it by changing the chords and making a slow, simmering, vampy southern soul song out of it. And it’s actually not bad! It’s up at her homepage right now.

Sobering Singles and Hilarious Hip-Hop for July 28

The Great Revealing is turning into the Great Unraveling, mighty fast. At this point it looks like the “chew toys,” as Catherine Austin Fitts calls bureaucrats like Birx and Dr. Faulty, are being thrown to the wolves, i.e. us. In the meantime, are we staring down a smallpox epidemic incubated in the population who caught VAIDS from the Covid shot? Stay tuned.

And the memes and videos are flying fast and furious. About 25 minutes of black comedy and videos today. As usual, click on artist or author names for their webpages, click on titles for audio and video – and make sure you use Brave or another browser with an ad blocker since a lot of the videos are at youtube.

Satirist and investigator Sage Hana has been putting out an infrequent but brilliantly edited series of videos for a bunch of mostly well-known songs. This is not one of them: it’s a Bonnie Tyler single from the 80s. And this salute to the heroes of the past twenty-nine months is not comedy. Anything but.

Hana’s Substack has also been a goldmine for good memes – for example, this Ronald McDonald – and this timely video of Eric Idle doing Henry Kissinger, from the 1980 Monty Python album Contractual Obligation.

Here’s the best-ever video for Anitra’s Dance, the immortal gothic theme from Edvard Grieg’s In the Hall of the Mountain King. It’s all about diminishing returns. Scroll down and laugh if you can.

Embattled New Zealand head of state Jacinda Ardern wants you to know that “We will continue to be your single source of truth.” In her own words, via Mathew Aldred‘s must-read Substack.

Let’s shift gears to hip-hop, first with Who’s My Name, by “Sniff Sleepy,” the cadaver-in-chief in his own words, artfully and pseudonymously edited, via El Gato Malo. Indestructible, by RC feat. Hailey Lewis makes a good segue, with some beautiful footage from the Canadian Freedom Convoy from this past winter

Americana guitarist Molly Tuttle shows off some sweet flatpicking, alongside her dad Jack on mandolin in Grass Valley, her shout-out to large crowds of people who get together and exhale CO2 in harmony around carbon-consuming structures like campfires…a time-honored tradition.

Singer Lisa Tingle’s band the Caughtery jangle and clang through The Uninvited, from darkly sparkling electric bluegrass in a Walkabouts vein to a stomp toward the stadium. A lockdown parable? You decide.

Beth Blade and the Beautiful Disasters have just released Persephone, a metaphorically-loaded mashup of the Peter Gunne theme and thrashy metal for those of us who may feel “owned but not possessed” during this twisted time in history.

Lately, it’s been the custom here to wind up a page of singles with something funny, but today it’s time to get serious. Watch New York State Assembly speaker Carl Heastie strong-arm a member of the New York State legislature to change his vote, on video, on June 13th, 2019 to repeal religious exemptions to vaccination. Coincidentally, the previous day Merck had announced the construction of a big pharma plant in the Albany area. Thanks to Dr. Meryl Nass for passing this along.

Emily Jane White Turns Up the Amps on Her Dark Sound

At the more corporate music venues around the world, it’s often the case where an opening act blows the headliner off the stage. Such is likely to happen tomorrow night, July 29 at 7 PM at the Poisson Rouge, where brooding songwriter Emily Jane White opens for Scandinavian chanteuse Eivor, who plays a distinctively minimalist take on 80s darkwave. $30 adv tix are still available as of today.

White established herself back in the zeros as a major voice in folk noir and is now taking a plunge into gothic rock with her latest album Alluvion, streaming at Bandcamp. Anton Patzner – who also produced – assembles layers of ominous keys over the guitars of “John Courage” (the name is a brand of British beer) and Nick Ott’s drums.

An icily dystopic sequencer pulse anchors the opening track, Show Me the War. With the ringing reverb guitar and distant cumulo-nimbus synth, it has a very 80s feel – and sets the stage for the rest of the album.

Track two, Crepuscule, is far less shadowy than the title would imply, with a late 80s Cure ambience that grows more dense and orchestral. Portentous low piano crashes along with the drums to introduce Heresy – “Their eyes are watching, they drank a cup of poison,” White intones. “You surrender all your hope to be somebody.” A plandemic parable maybe?

“I saw the pain fall around you…I saw murder in the background,” White reveals in Poisoned, a brisk southwestern gothic elegy. She rises to full-blown High Romantic angst, the piano against stormy symphonic synth in Body Against the Gun. She stays with the same template, with more of a distinctive 80s Cure gothic atmosphere in The Hands Above Me, a defiant antiauthoritarian anthem.

“Enduring, scarred, can’t be undone by someone,” White sings with an angst-fueled shiver in Mute Swan, over a techier ambience: this also sounds like a lockdown narrative. The sinister reverb on the guitars comes up a notch over suspense-film piano in Hold Them Alive.

“Morbid reflection, a dying art,” is the chorus tagline in the crescendoing anthem Hollow Hearth – these days, maybe not so much anymore! Although it may well predate the lockdown and be more metaphorical, I Spent the Years Frozen aptly describes the alienation that’s pervaded the world since March of 2020

The album’s final cut is Battle Call, a noir-tinged reflection on the legacy of violence in the aftermath of war. There’s plenty of validation here for anyone who’s suffered in the totalitarian takeover of the past twenty-eight months.

Playful and Pensively Picturesque Themes with the Knights at the Naumburg Bandshell in Central Park

Last night at the Naumburg Bandshell was the second performance of the summer by irrepressible, shapeshifting orchestra the Knights. It wasn’t as deviously thematic as their first night here last month, where they paired Beethoven’s Kreutzer Sonata with Janacek’s String Quartet No. 1, “Kreutzer Sonata.” In a more general sense, yesterday evening’s theme was pastiches, both musical and visual.

The group opened with the world premiere of a collaboration between several of their members, Keeping On, whose genesis dates back a few years to when they were messing around with a famous Beethoven riff during practice.

Fast forward to the 2020 lockdown: conductor Colin Jacobsen pondered what John Adams might have done with it, then emailed his sketch to members of the orchestra – which disgraced Governor Andrew Cuomo had infamously put on ice – and asked for their contributions. Several sent theirs back; horn player Mike Atkinson wove them together into a contiguous whole. The famous, fateful riff eventually revealed itself midway through; otherwise, it was a characteristically entertaining little work, from its insistent, minimalist intro to a series of briskly crescendoing phrases making their way around the orchestra, Carl Nielsen style, then bells from the percussion section and hip-hop-influenced vocal harmonies from violinist Christina Courtin and flutist Alex Sopp! An insider orchestral joke that translates to general audiences, who would have thought?

Violin soloist Lara St. John then joined them for the New York premiere of Avner Dorman‘s Violin Concerto No. 2, Nigunim, based on a series of traditional Jewish melodies. The opening Adagio Religioso rose from a hazy theme in the hauntingly chromatic freygische mode to a brief, somber stateliness, then St. John immediately slashed her way through her first cadenza. The pregnant pause afterward was a striking setup for the otherworldly drift and then the undulatingly acidic dance afterward, St. John’s razorwire waltz sailing overhead.

Her fleeting, ghostly incisions flitted over a mist as the second movement got underway, the orchestra almost imperceptibly returning to the astringency and chromatic bite of the previous interlude. Their leap into a suspensefully pulsing klezmer dance was irresistibly fun; St. John led the procession back to disquieting close harmonies and strangely celestial harmonics radiating throughout the string section, up to a jaunty coda.

She and a handful of the string players then surprised the crowd by literally dancing through a lightning-fast, wryly harmonically-infused jam on a traditional klezmer dance.

After the intermission, they concluded with an insightfully picturesque take of Mendelssohn’s Scottish Symphony. A Bach-like somberness pervaded the anthemic, initial andante movement, underscoring how much that rugged coastline had impacted a 20-year-old urban Jewish classical rockstar. The brief, massed stilletto passages from the brass were all the more impressive considering that this was an outdoor show, although by half past eight the temperature had dropped to a perfect mid-seventies calm.

The luscious textural contrast between the midrange brass and strings fell away for a ragged run through the goofy country dance that introduced movement two: a moment of sarcasm, maybe? Whatever the case, it worked with the crowd.

The somber lushness of the adagio third movement was inescapable: it’s one thing to credit the young composer for his balance of brass, winds and strings throughout moody and occasionally portentous, martial themes, but the orchestra nailed them, one by one. The succession of Mozartean motives and punchy Germanic phrases on the way out – and deftly executed melismas from the strings – wound it up with a characteristic ebullience.

The final Naumburg Bandshell concert in Central Park this summer is on August 2 at 7:30 PM with self-conducted string ensemble the East Coast Chamber Orchestra playing works by Adolphus Hailstork, Peruvian themes arranged by Maureen Nelson and the group’s arrangement of Schubert’s String Quartet No. 14 in D minor, “Death and the Maiden.” Take the 72nd St. entrance; get there an hour early, at least, if you want a seat.

A Welcome Return From Obscurity by a New York Romany Jazz Outfit

For many years before the 2020 lockdown, the music school around the corner from St. Marks Park in the East Village put on a weekly series of free lunchtime concerts in front of the church just west of Second Avenue. These ran the gamut from jazz, to klezmer and various styles from the tropics. Back in the early teens, you would see homeless people converging on the space, seemingly out of nowhere, right before the end of the show. That’s because the organizers frequently gave away cookies when the band finished up. The series has returned this year, and it’s very unlikely that there will be cookies for the final show there on July 28 at half past noon. But if you live or work in the neighborhood, you can catch a rare appearance by a group who’ve played there a few times, Gypsy Jazz Caravan.

This may be their first show since the lockdown – beyond an old Reverbnation page, you have to go to the Wayback Machine to find out much of anything about them. They play mostly originals in the time-honored Django Reinhardt tradition, plus a few covers like La Vie En Rose where their sense of humor comes through. This blog was in the house (or, more specifically, in the shade of a tree across the street) for an enjoyably purist, pretty low-key show they played there on a steamy June afternoon in 2016.

Violinist Rob Thomas, lead guitarist Marc Daine, rhythm guitarist Glenn Tosto and bassist Mike Weatherly’s four tracks on the Reverbnation page give you a good idea of what they’re about. With the first one, Bossa Roma. they underscore how effective it can be when you switch out a brisk shuffle beat for a slinky clave groove in order to transform a wistful Romany jazz melody. Their La Vie En Rose cover has some characteristically sly flourishes, while Le Musette de L’Arrogance, a sprightly, biting minor-key waltz, has Thomas doubling Daine’s melody line with a stark melismatic edge..

If you want more Gypsy Jazz Caravan, their 2006 album Pour Les Zazous is up at youtube. The songs are a lot more diverse than all the shredders in the Django cult typically play. One of the highlights among the shuffle tunes is the enigmatic Torment in A Minor; another is the bittersweetly strolling Do the Promenade. If you want a sentimental waltz, White Hotel is for you. The best song on it is Land of the Lonely, with Daine’s spiky leads and Thomas’ shivery intensity. If you miss Stephane Wrembel’s legendary residencies around town, this may be as good as it gets for that style of music right now in New York.

Hilary Hawke Brings Her Fresh, Original Oldtime-Flavored Banjo Tunes to the Lower East Side

Banjo player Hilary Hawke has been on the front lines of the New York Americana and oldtimey scenes since the early teens. But unlike a lot of hotshot pickers, she’s more about tunes and tunesmithing than blistering banjo breakdowns. She’s opening an excellent triplebill tomorrow night, July 26 at 7 PM at the downstairs room at the Rockwood. Acoustic songwriter Mali Obomsawin, frontwoman of politically-inspired Boston Americana group Lula Wiles and fearless gospel/blues/oldtimey songwriter Queen Esther follow on the bill. It’s not clear who’s playing when, but everybody on the bill is worth hearing. Cover is $15.

Hawke’s new album LilyGild is streaming at Bandcamp. True to the theme of the album, which is “why overdo it,” more or less, Hawke chooses her spots throughout a mix of seven instrumental and a classic folk song,  joined by Reed Stutz on guitar. Her songs are fresh and translucent, but she loves unexpected tempo shifts and syncopation. She also gets a pretty amazing amount of resonance out of her axe, squeezing every millisecond of sustain out of the strings.

The first track is Three Snakes, a catchy but rhythmically labyrinthine dance tune with a goofy little interlude that’s too good to spoil. Once in awhile, Stutz will pick his way up with a little bassline to follow Hawke’s incisively syncopated picking.

Granddad’s Favorite//Fort Smith Breakdown, a diptych, has a couple of layers of guitar mingling with Hawke’s spacious picking, then the two go doublespeed on the way out. Crossing the River has a moody, unsettled undercurrent in contrast with Stutz’s steady forward drive. Then Hawke and Stutz move to the mic for a rustically waltzing version of Jack of Diamonds.

Her spiky phrases contrast with sleek, slithery turnaruonds in the aptly titled Happy Hollow. Beehive’s Chorus is the most modern-sounding number here: it could be a brief, early Jayme Stone tune. Hawke and Stutz wind up the album with the title track, packed with deft, wide-angle soul chords, slides and hammer-ons. Who needs to gild the lily when you have music like this.

What’s more, Hawke mentions on the Bandcamp page that these instrumentals are part of a collection that also includes a series of darker, cinematic pieces for electronic keys and banjo. Hopefully someday we’ll get to hear those too.

An Eclectic Triplebill at a Legendary DIY Spot on the 26th

Rubulad might be the last attraction in New York that you would expect to have survived the lockdown. But the long-running warehouse party, which has been housed all over Brooklyn and occasionally Manhattan since the late 90s, is up and running again. With the massive exodus out of this city since March of 2020, it’s likely that much of the audience that gravitated toward that kind of full-blown excess has flown the coop. Just to be clear, this Burning Man-style confluence of what could involve space cake, bathtub absinthe, body painting, tarot readings and eclectic music is not everyone’s cup of tea. The organizers are now in their fifties, so the crowd is likely to be more mixed that you might imagine. For hardy souls who can handle it, the next party is on July 26. Music starts at 8 with a solo show by ambient/avant garde violist Jessica Pavone, then surrealist multi-instrumentalist Dave Ruder leading a quartet, and cinematic retro 60s soundtrack-soul group Dodi (f.k.a. Transistor Ray) headlining. The current Rubulad digs are on the Bushwick/Queens border and you have to email for directions. Cover is $10 cash at the door,

Transistor Ray’s lone recording so far is the short album You’ll Never Get to Heaven Without a Broken Heart, which came out right before the 2020 lockdown and is streaming at Bandcamp. The first track, Till the Trees All Leaf is a surreal mashup of loungey 60s jazz-pop with a hint of classic piano boogie-woogie, neoretro Italian film themes and full-blown psychedelia, in the same vein as Tredici Bacci. Brothers Giovanni and Giancarlo Saldarriaga pounce and linger on guitar and bass, respectively, over drummer Daniel Shubmeh’s dynamic shifts as frontwoman Suri holds it all together with an unassailable calm.

“I left my heart in the rain for much too long,” Suri confides in the bittersweetly soul-tinged April Sundays, Caley Monahon Ward’s Wurlitzer organ drifting over the band’s spiky tube-amp clang. The band go deeper into 60s blue-eyed soul-pop territory on last track, Hourglass in Sand: the counterpoint between the chiming guitar and Adrian Knight’s insistent piano as Tracy Brooks’ trumpet wafts through the mix is a neat touch. It’s a fair bet their live show is just as eclectic and will involve some of the other players on the bill.

Memes and Singles of the Week For July 23

It’s been a crazy week. but the Great Awakening seems to be pushing the Great Reset off the cliff. Today’s playlist starts with some snarky visuals, then about 25 minutes worth of tunes and a shocking but cruelly funny bit of news. As always, click on artist or author names for their webpages, click on titles for audio and visuals – and make sure you use Brave or another browser with an ad blocker because some of the songs are at youtube.

Sometimes a video is worth a thousand words. This is so sweet. All the Dutch kids on their four-wheelers showing solidarity with the farmers protesting the World Economic Forum’s sick Agenda 2030! Thanks to the irreplaceable Tessa Lena for passing this along

Mathew Aldred shares the funniest social media gaffe of the week:

“If masks worked, they would have been banned, just like hydroxichloroquine” via author Amy Sukwan.

Artist Anne Gibbons‘ meme of the week is the Philanthropath of the Year Awards, inspired by Margaret Anna Alice’s must-read Substack. Let’s get the word “philanthropath” into the global urban dictionary!

Fran Leader, who for years has been tip of the spear among British activists sounding the alarm about the dangers of EMF exposure, has a great meme dump today: check out the “authoritarian virus” and the Matrix joke.

Now for some tunes! Satirist and documentarian Sage Hana has a characteristically spot-on video for a live, late-career version of Blondie’s One Way Or Another. Pay careful attention to the final frame

Jessie Kilguss wrote her janglerock anthem Great White Shark for a prison songwriting class….that she was teaching. The gist of this bittersweet gem is that maybe sharks aren’t so scary after all. Yikes!

Nina Diaz‘s Silly Situation turns mid-80s Cure inside out with a world-weary Marianne Faithfull angst.

Let’s take a dive into the deep end of the noir soul pool with a good segue from Lizzie No‘s Sweeter Than Strychnine into All Back, by Ali McGuirk

Lukas Lion‘s The Great Puppet Show, a creepy circus-rock hip-hop protest song, has gotten a lot of traction lately:

If we can make Hollywood movies, you think we can’t manipulate what the latest news is?
We’re the kings of illusion, we choose what the truth is.

Imagine a woman singing Steve Earle’s Copperhead Road and you get Kasey Waldon‘s Simple As Love

Let’s end this on a (very darkly) comedic note with the irreplaceable Dr. Pam Popper‘s commentary on the damning new memoir by the “scarf lady.” The founder of Make Americans Free Again unpacks the criminal Fauci’s co-conspirator Deborah Birx’s memoir in five minutes, letting her dig her own grave in admitting that she was the main proponent of the asymptomatic spread madness, and the testing madness of the early days of the plandemic. Birx even brags about how she subverted any attempt by the White House to return to normal. As Birx confesses, “They never managed to catch the subterfuge.” Start the video at about the two minute mark.