Sometimes, amid the flow of video over here at STM HQ, I actually find my way back to writing prose, and I'm happy to have these two relatively new items out there.
The new album Sinners & Saints is coming very soon (Oct. 5) from the magnificent Raul Malo. I wrote the bio for the project, and you can find it HERE. An excerpt:
Self-produced in his home studio and brimming with deeply personal beliefs and passions, Sinners & Saints is the most intimate, honest and complex album Malo has made in an already distinguished career. You will hear in it a lifetime’s journey, from the singer and songwriter’s youth in the Cuban neighborhoods of Miami through his years with hit country band the Mavericks to his place today as one of the most intriguing and talented artists in the Americana and World Music scenes.
And in more of an essay vein, I wrote this month's Behind The Song column for American Songwriter magazine. The subject was a song I had practically on auto-repeat through the summer of 1986. Yes, that was fifteen years after it was released, but those of us not born into the 1960s music revolution had to investigate and indulge in it in our own time and on our own terms. The full article is HERE. The takeaway:
How could “Sugar Magnolia” not resonate with college-aged me? Intimations of a year-round summer? A pretty girl glistening with water on a sunshine morning? A secret spot back in the woods? Its poetry was specific enough to elicit pictures and cryptic enough to fuel fantasies. Besides, I’m from the South, so magnolias trigger all kinds of complex sense memories, from climbing their sturdy branches to dangerous heights as a kid, to their sticky sweet and erotic scent. But of course, it was the musical package on that iconic recording that took me. The harmonies are frayed, like a comfortable pair of jeans, and the lilting tempo and Jerry Garcia’s touch-ups with pedal steel guitar made the track an absolute classic and a joyful sing-along.

