‘Nashville’ fans should love John Eddie

jeddie

One of the great treats of ABC’s great country-and-character-driven drama ‘Nashville’ is hearing so many cool modern country songs, all hand-chosen by T-Bone Burnett. If you dig that stuff you definitely need to check out John Eddie.

I ‘d heard of the guy — mostly as a Bruce Springsteen jam partner — for years. Didn’t do anything about it ’til I happened to be in Asbury Park, NJ on a night when he played the Stone Pony. I paid my money, bought a couple Yuenglings and came away thrilled: turned out his songs tread just the right line between thoughtful, sleazy and hilarious, played with a hot band and could really light up a club full of rowdy Jerseyites.

Now Eddie lives in Nashville, where he writes tunes for country acts (or anyone, I suspect) and records his own albums, including his latest, “Same Old Brand New Me.” My favorite of his records is 2003’s  “Who the Hell is John Eddie?”

Not sure if Burnett has snapped up any of Eddie’s tunes for ‘Nashville’ yet, but boy howdy, he oughta think about it.

Back Home, No Thanks to GPS Lady

An amazing week in NYC and Asbury Park came to a terrific end over the weekend with an afternoon chatting with guitar hero Sonny Kenn at his studio;  night seeing John Eddie at the Stone Pony (turned into a late, beery, hoarse-voice-in-the-morning kind of night) and then a wonderful morning touring Freehold with town historian/writer/walking civic resource, Kevin Coyne.

follow the jump for a real screed about my break-up with the GPS lady….

Then my drive up the parkway to NYC and JFK got a bit hairy when GPS lady opted against the sensible route past the city (e.g,, through Staten Island and over the Verrazzano) and I was too cowed to just make the turn myself and let her grumble about recalculating, etc. etc. So she was directing me toward the GW Bridge, then freaked when the traffic got bad and pointed me through the Holland Tunnel and then across 42nd street…..oh yes, no traffic in MIDTOWN MANHATTAN, is there????….then everything got even MORE screwy the closer we got to the airport. Don’t ask, but by the end we were like husband wife, talking past each other, screaming at each other….or at least me screaming at her while she just repeated, maddeningly, that she was recalculating, recalculating, recalculating. Her whole life, apparently, and the decisions that led her into the car with me. I don’t like to sound all misogynistic, particularly when it comes to machinery. But GPS lady struck me, ultimately, like the icy kind of chick I’ve spent my life trying to avoid. And not just b/c she obviously thinks I’m a dimwit loser.

Tired now. Time to sack out and try to get back in the time zone. More “Lost” bloggage tomorrow, hip-hip-hooray.