Meet what very well might be the first race horse in history named after a Twitter handle, Indy Rocker Girl. Those are my nieces and nephew checking out the foal their Grandpa named in my honor (endearingly botched in only the way my Dad could manage.) I got this photo in my inbox just before heading out to see J. Tillman last night at Cafe du Nord and the combination of the two elements really made me homesick.
I think it was the pedal guitar that got me. It does every time. Listening to the talented Mr. Tillman’s beautifully plucked guitar and weeping sounds of the pedal steel guitar, it finally hit me why I’m such a sucker for it. It’s home. As much as I grew up on the alternative sounds of WOXY, so I did country and bluegrass music in my Dad’s pick up truck. Regular pilgrimages across the border to the Kentucky Bluegrass Festival made me a lifelong fan of the banjo, pedal guitar and heartfelt lyrics.
J. Tillman and his band are just that – and more. Their music is honest and real. In a time when so much indie music seems contrived and trite, it’s a refreshing respite. I had such a feeling of contentment after that show. My chicken soup for the soul, I guess. If only I could have had a patch of real bluegrass to sink my bare feet into….
the OCMD 