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Lyle Lovett and His Large Band have made a decade-long tradition of appearing at Bass Hall in Fort Worth for a couple of nights every fall. We should be so lucky that they'll continue that for at least another 10 or 20 years.

Despite the Saturday-night show by Elton John and Leon Russell just down the street at the Convention Center Arena, both Saturday and Sunday's Lovett shows nearly sold out. Lovett repaid the tribute on Sunday with a two-hour-plus show of two dozen songs, starting with the modern-cowboy ballad "Natural Forces" and ending with the gospel-tinged "Church" and "Ain't No More Cane" (with Lyle, his quartet of back-up singers and several other band members on vocals, that number could have put any professional men's choir to shame). It was chills time for everyone in the audience, and you could have heard the proverbial pin drop when the music stopped. Sometimes that two- or three-second silence, signifying "We're just stunned," is so much more powerful than an immediate standing ovation.

In between, Lyle displayed his dry, wry sense of humor, inserting a line about the Cowboys' win into one song, and, when a fan kiddingly shouted "Freebird!" he told a hilarious story about how that rock classic was the Klein High School 1975 class song. "They rejected our first choice, '30 Days in the Hole,' by Humble Pie," he joked. Or maybe not.

Anyway, the one constant with every Lovett concert is the absolutely superb musicianship, and the way he lovingly spotlights his band and singers (who were called upon this time to stand in as both chickens, on "Choke That Chicken," and thunder, on "I Will Rise Up"). The gloriously creepy solo cello rift by John Hagen on "You Can't Resist It" was worth the price of admission all by itself. As usual, Lovett ran the gamut of American genres -- country, soul, jazz, rock and swing were covered, as well as the Texas song-writing triumverate of trains, horses and women who break your heart.

The only way Lyle could break ours if he he quits recording and touring. Other than that, we're good.

PHOTO by Ralph Barrera/AMERICAN-STATESMAN: Lyle Lovett plays Austin City Limits Monday on Nov. 8.

Yesterday, Demi Lovato made an appearance at Stonebriar Mall - about four hours late. Though I suppose having a fever so high you have to be whisked off to the hospital is a pretty good excuse.

The young starlet, known for her Disney channel roles in Camp Rock and "Sonny with a Chance", signed autographs for fans as a part of the Shop Til You Rock campaign, which promotes bands and malls alike. Also in attendance was The Ready Set, a band that performed a few of their songs, including the crowd-favorite "Spinning".

We were there to give you live updates via Twitter, so if you missed the updates, you can see them here. Be sure to check back for more music news and other live music feeds on our music Twitter, guidelivemusic.

Submitted photo.

Disney star Demi Lovato will be making an appearance at Stonebriar Mall on Sunday and we'll be there to recap it for you.

Follow us on Twitter @guidelivemusic for updates from the scene from 1 p.m. to 4 p.m.

Uncle Calvin's Coffeehouse is, as I've written often here, among my very favorite venues for live music. At 58, I have reached a point where bars are easily my least favorite venues for live music (with Poor David's Pub being the rare exception). But aside from that, I love the surprises, the rare finds I discover at Uncle Calvin's, which tend to surface in unexpected warm-up acts I've never seen or even heard of. Such was the case last Friday night, when I went to hear one of my favorites, Austin singer-songwriter Jimmy LaFave and his consistently amazing band (John Inmon on lead guitar, Bryan Peterson on keyboards, Glenn Scheutz on bass and Bobby Kallus on drums). It was a Woody Guthrie Festival Preview, giving listeners an appetizer of what they might hear at this weekend's annual Woody Guthrie Festival in Woody's hometown of Okemah, Okla. Appearing with Jimmy were Okemah resident Susan Herndon and native Tasmanian Audrey Auld, who emerged as the night's biggest surprise.

Photo: Audrey Auld

Headed to the Palladium tonight to check out LCD Soundsystem? Cool. Hope you have fun. DMN staff critic Chris Vognar will be there too. Follow him @chrisvognar for his Twitter thoughts on the show seen from his seat. Then check back at dallasnews.com/music tomorrow for his review. Show starts at 8pm.

A college professor of mine preached the truism that "good writing is wherever it is found." The same could be said for music. It never ceases to amaze me that the best music I hear is almost never in a loud, sweaty arena. Sorry, kids, you can have Lady Gaga (is that short for "Gaga me with a spoon"?). Fewer than 100 people show up most nights at Uncle Calvin's Coffeehouse on Central Expressway, or at Crossroads Coffeehouse & Music Co. in Winnsboro, but each cozy, well-kept secret of a venue keeps the customer satisfied -- and does so consistently. One recent find at Uncle Calvin's was singer-songwriter John Fullbright. He hails from Okemah, Okla., the same town as Woody Guthrie, and I'll be darned if he doesn't sound like Woody Guthrie incarnate. I had a similar experience Saturday night, when I wandered into 55 Degrees, a "wine bar & bistro" in West Plano. Owner Laura Lucia has put together quite a welcoming getaway with 55 Degrees, but it was aided in no small part by the velvety voice of Liz Feldman, whose covers of songs by Carole King and Burt Bacharach and Hal David were pure pleasure. Listening to Liz, I kept thinking of one of my favorite soundtracks, from the Helen Hunt-Jack Nicholson movie As Good As It Gets. I wanted to hear what Liz might do with the Danielle Brisebois song, "Everything My Heart Desires." (Please read on!)

Photo: Liz Feldman in concert

Hometown boy Terry Fator wowed a near-capacity crowd at the Meyerson Symphony Center on Tuesday night, where the cause he was benefiting was the Vogel Alcove, which offers a helping hand to homeless kids. The most moving aspect to Tuesday's performance was, however, provided by the Children's Chorus of Greater Dallas, a 240-child ensemble whose angelic voices served as a warmup to Fator's hilarious, easy-on-the-ears lounge singer-ventriloquist act. The children singing Tuesday night were selected from a combination of four Children's Chorus choirs (Prelude-4th graders, Apprentice-5th graders; Concert I-7th and 8th graders and Concert II-5th through 8th graders). Fator, who grew up in various hamlets in the Dallas area, is the son of janitorial workers. Now 44, he made it big (very big) after winning the $1 million grand prize on America's Got Talent in 2007, then signing a five-year, $100 million with the Mirage in Las Vegas.

Photo: Terry Fator with Winston the Turtle

Poor David's Pub continues to be a venue I love. In just a few short weeks, I've had the pleasure of seeing Jimmy LaFave, David Bromberg and Moon & the Starz give terrific shows there. On Thursday night, Poor David's is bringing in the incomparable John Gorka. For more information about Gorka's show and Poor David's in general, click here. Last Saturday night brought to Poor David's Lamar Street location Moon & the Starz, whose five-band piece is made up of ace keyboardist Mark Vidito (who lives in Dallas) and four characters from Linden, Texas, where Moon's home court, so to speak, is the state's best live music venue, the 420-seat Music City Texas Theater. For the second time in its short history, Music City Texas is hosting Jackson Browne on Thursday night. But regulars of MCT get to hear Moon & the Starz all the time, which is no small privilege. This Piney Woods quintet is headed up by lead guitarist Richard Bowden, who once manned that position for Linda Ronstadt and Dan Fogelberg. He is also hilariously funny. One example: The show started at 8 p.m., but one contingent trooped in around 8:25. "Oh, some other folks have decided to join us," Bowden said. "So happy to see you. Can we get you anything? Like a friggin' watch!?"

Photo: Richard Bowden of Moon & the Starz

Friday night marked yet another terrific concert at Uncle Calvin's Coffeehouse. The inimitable David Wilcox made his debut at Uncle Calvin's, where, incredibly, he had never played. Wilcox has a loyal cult following, and the place was packed. His adoring troupe of fans included a delightful couple, Mike and Mer Dunbar, who attended a Wilcox concert at McDavid Studio in Fort Worth on their first date in 2006. They were married last May and now share the distinction of having attended additional Wilcox shows during 2007, 2008 and Friday night. Mike is 27, Mer is 22, so they're a bit younger than the regulars who return like homing pigeons each Friday night to Fellowship Hall at Northpark Presbyterian Church, where Uncle Calvin's is based. I, like most of the Ballad Tree types who go there, vastly prefer seeing shows at Uncle Calvin's than having to endure the crazy din of American Airlines Center. Those days are gone, and you can have them. There's nothing better than a quiet corner at Uncle Calvin's, a slice of hot apple pie and several cups of hot, black, steaming, flavorful, delicious coffee. Uncle Calvin's offered the chance to fully appreciate Wilcox's rare blend of pristine vocals, dynamic guitar play and songwriting that merges the best of music and storytelling. At times, you feel like you're hearing Jackson Browne, at others F. Scott Fitzgerald.

Photo: David Wilcox, who has just released his 16th album, Open Hand

Roving significant other Big Honey Bunny (aka Big Play Ray) just called with this report from the 'burbs. There are already hundreds of people sitting, standing, waiting in the area around Cowboys Stadium, some even sitting in chairs in the rain, waiting for their big night with the band. (I'm going to American Airlines Center to review Maxwell, but I live over that way so I'm especially concerned.)

You can see people waiting from Randol Mill to Division. The stadium lot isn't open yet, so I'm wondering where they're all parked. I wrote all of that to write this: If you were planning to leisurely get to the venue after work, I'd suggest you figure out a way to take a half-day right now to avoid the rush.

Stay tuned for pictures.

No, you're not seeing double. That's not Taylor Swift in the lower right corner of the photo; it's 16-year-old Haley Githens of Dallas, who attended the Swift concert Friday night at American Airlines Center (that's Taylor on the video screen behind Haley and her friends). The packed-to-the-rafters arena was full of little girls, preteens and teens adopting the "Taylor look" -- spiral curls, relatively demure minidresses, glitter and tutus were all the rage -- but Haley pretty much won hands down, at least in the section I was sitting in.

Swift proved once again that's she's no flash in the bubbly-blonde-singer pan, putting on a two-hour show rich with emotion, cleverness, wit and energy. For someone who's a mere 19 years old, she showed an amazing range of maturity and depth in her songwriting, and even had a little fun with her reputation for "revenge songs." "I try really hard to be a nice person," she said late in the concert. "But if you break my heart, or hurt my feelings ... I'm gonna have to write a song about you." Let's see -- what rhymes with Kanye?

Her adoring fans, which in addition to the preteen- and teenage-girl set also included a good number of middle-age and grandparent types, both with and without children in tow, showed Swift plenty of love. After the sweet "Tim McGraw," which launched her career, she received one of the longest ovations I've ever witnessed at American Airlines Center, or any concert venue for that matter.

Opening acts Gloriana and Kellie Pickler also rocked, although I'd rather have heard more of the gorgeous harmonies of Gloriana and less of Pickler, who more and more seems like "Taylor light."

For a full review of Friday's show, check back here on Saturday evening.

Photo by Joy Tipping

Kudos to the legendary Poor David's Pub for back-to-back weekends of terrific shows. I had the pleasure of being at the Jimmy LaFave-Zane Williams doubleheader on Sept. 12 and again on Friday night, Sept. 18, to hear folk music giant David Bromberg. (Check out the fascinating feature on Bromberg written by my colleague Mario Tarradell.) Poor David's has been around for years, of course, but its new location on Lamar near downtown Dallas is really cool. As John Inmon, LaFave's ace lead guitarist, told me, it has terrific acoustics. The sound is absolutely perfect. LaFave put on his usual dynamite show, with Inmon laying down his amazing licks on lead guitar and Bryan Peterson playing the lights out of the piano. No one can move from Chuck Berry to Bruce Springsteen to his own heartfelt ballads as well as LaFave. And Zane Williams, LaFave's warm-up that evening, is a real find. The Abilene native moved to Nashville in 1999 after graduating from Abilene Christian University.

Photo: David Bromberg

Among the thrills of going to a concert is leaving with one song whose words and melody won't get out of your head. It's usually a new song, and being among the first to hear it is one of the thrills of live performance. I got to hear two on Friday night, July 17, and can't stop thinking about either. The incomparable Gretchen Peters, who headlined that night at Uncle Calvin's Coffeehouse, played a new song titled "Mother," which she wrote for a CD tribute to the activist, Mary Harris "Mother" Jones. Despite enormous personal tragedy (she lost her husband and their four children in a yellow fever epidemic and later lost her shop, her home and all her possessions in the Great Chicago Fire), Mother Jones rallied American miners and championed workers' rights like no one ever had. "You were the Madonna of the mines/our Lady of the Picket Lines," Peters sang, to terrific accompaniment by Barry Walsh, her keyboardist, accordion player and fiancé. I'm often skeptical of warm-up acts, so I was pleasantly surprised to hear John Fullbright, whose hometown is Okemah, Okla., the same as Woody Guthrie. The parallels don't stop there. Fullbright looks a lot like Woody, sounds a lot like Woody, and from early indications, writes a lot like Woody. His song "The High Road" is a tale of an extraordinary love. Jack and Suzy are young lovers but share a bond so strong and enduring that it underscores the power of Fullbright's lyrics, which state, "Living comes natural to many/love comes naturally to few ... you take the high road to freedom/And I'll take the low road to you." It was a gift getting to hear such a magical young talent perform. I hope we have many more such chances in the future. Woody would be proud: He could not have a better clone.

Photo: Gretchen Peters

The near-capacity crowd at the American Airlines Center Thursday night didn't just watch a concert by 10 talented singers; they took part in a celebration.
Thanks to the show's wild popularity, these are people the audience thinks they know. So when the group rolls into town to perform, it's unlike, say a Britney Spears or Jonas Brothers concert. The viewers now only saw them blossom into who they are today, they voted them into stardom. So it's personal.
The singers performed in reverse order, beginning with Jasper's Michael Sarver and ending with Kris Allen. By the time third-place finisher Danny Gokey took the stage, the concert turned into a study in contrasts. Danny's last song, "My Wish," felt like a church revival, as the stadium became a sea of arms floating from side to side in support of Danny's soaring voice.
A few seconds later, church was over. The one and only Adam Lambert, strutting and at times grabbing his crotch in dramatic fashion, showed off his unbeatable pipes with "Whole Lotta Love," which roused the crowd to its most ear-piercing screams of the evening.
After Adam came our winner. Kris emerged wearing a plaid shirt and jeans, singing his unique and soulful version of "Heartless." But was the energy as high as it had been a few minutes before? Perhaps not.
But the two are simply different talents, and the audience seemed to appreciate that. The final group number, "Don't Stop Believin,'" was a fitting end to the Season Eight party, with bubbles floating from above and smiles all around. If any of the singers cared about which place in which they finished, they certainly weren't showing it.

For a full review of the American Idols concert, go to dallasnews.com/entertainment Friday or see GuideDaily Saturday.

John Mayer: Several "Who's that?" from the people around me. The crowd is starting to be more vocal, with a "We'll see you in heaven, Michael!" after Mayer's performance.

Brooke Shields: I guess I didn't know they hung out that much growing up. Michael and Brooke running around at one of Liz Taylor's weddings? That's a moment.

Sheila Jackson-Lee: She got a huge cheer when she said people are "innocent until proven guilty" along with several "that's right." The house resolution she held up got a standing ovation.

Usher: After his performance, the sunglasses-wearing singer embraced Jackson's mother and shook his sons' hands. A whole lot of sobs around me.

More sobs with Smokey Robinson's "You'll never die, Michael."

Shaheen Jafargholi: The young British singer's vocal power brought back the chills for the woman next to me. And me.

The day came to a crescendo with "We Are The World." Is that LaToya in the hat? Everyone is on their feet. Lots of "who's that?" directed towards the lead singer. Murmurs of 'Where's Justin?' start. Which are replaced with lots of "Thank you, Michael", "We love you, Michael" and "Don't go, Michael!'

The Jackson family comes out. It's so cool that the brothers are in sequined gloves. And Janet looks amazing. "Maybe now, Michael, they will leave you alone."

As Jackson's daughter steps up, the service becomes even more human. What started out as a celebrity circus -- with impersonators, hot dogs, t-shirts and "Who's that?" -- becomes very, very real with Paris speaking simply of what a great dad Jackson was.

The crescendo hit its peak with the crowd, with several people around me moaning and sobbing loudly. As the crowd joins hands and bows their heads in prayer, the event fully arrives at a memorial service.

It began with songs, and we're walking out in silence.

1. Collective gasp. Mariah Carey.

2. Queen Latifah: The first sniffs and eye dabs in my section. "A human being first."

3. Lionel Richie: Someone commented about the 'very Facebook' photo of Jackson and Richie on the screen.

4. Berry Gordy: "Studied the greats and became greater." During his speech what looks like one of The Girls Next Door walks out.

5. During the montage, Jackson's voiceover "fame and fortune. They're just illusions" gave me chills. Major cheers when MJ moonwalks across the screen.

6. Stevie Wonder: The sniffs become sobs. After he finishes, silence. It's very telling of the reverence.

7. Jennifer Hudson: For me, stunning. The woman in front of me says, "I can feel her voice."

8. After Al Sharpton, chanting: "Michael, Michael."

Smokey Robinson opened the show reading a letter which read: "I'm so sorry I'm not at Staples Center." No one knew he was reading a letter, which led to a little chatter. Then he said "signed Diana Ross." My section let out a collective, "oh...."

Incidentally, the relish at Staples Center tastes very fresh. Wondering if organic.

The Jackson family is here. Is Latoya/Janet in a white blouse? Or is that Jesse Jackson's wife? It's hard to tell up here. I wish they would announce like at the Oscars with Ryan Seacrest.

Michael Jackson's casket arrives. It is a memorial at last.

Okay, I found my seat. I've made it in to Staples Center!

First stop: hot dog and pretzel. I'm thinking I will definitely serve these at my own memorial service.

Next stop: the balcony overlooking VIP entrance.
Sighting: Larry King and daughter or wife; Marilyn McCoo; Tyler Perry; Jesse Jackson.

Then to my seat. Section 304, row 9 seat 15. It's steep and perilous to squeeze into middle of row with $20 worth of concessions while texting friends. I just saw Marilyn McCoo's weave.

Kobe Bryant just walked in. Anyway, I saw Marilyn McCoo. (If you squint, you can see Marilyn McCoo in the photo below.)

Today the wait to sign wall is significantly less - 10 min. Now through the security, where everyone is remarking: can you believe we're here?

Um, what does one write in this situation? I thought 'xx' was appropriate. Now, not so much.

Fashion writer and Michael Jackson Memorial ticket holder Jason Sheeler updates us from his trek to Los Angeles:

After a nightmarish airport experience - don't ever make a promise to TSA you can't keep - I made it onto the plane. Reclining in my expensively cheap seat, I can finally catch a breath.

It's heady being somewhat of a contest winner - benefiting from obscenely good luck. This must be how Elizabeth Hasselbeck feels every morning.

I have asked people on the plane if they're going to the memorial. So far I've gotten, 'Seriously?' and 'I'm on the phone.'

Jason wants to talk to some fellow Dallasites. Do you know someone who is going? Are you there and faithfully reading from your iPhone/Blackberry/netbook? E-mail hwarren@dallasnews.com with your contact information if you'd like to be included in Jason's reporting.

LONDON -- The Anschutz Entertainment Group, the commercial monolith that promoted the 50 Michael Jackson concerts here that will never happen, pretty much had the whole town riled up by Wednesday morning. AEG, which is part of the same Philip Anschutz empire that brought "Tutankhamun and the Golden Age of the Pharaohs" to the Dallas Museum of Art (and which owns the Nokia Theatre at Grand Prairie), came up with a no-refund alternative to Jackson's ill-fated concert series that provoked a Fleet Street frenzy of angry headlines. AEG Live says that anyone who wants a full refund to Jackson's ill-fated series of 50 concerts at the O2 (the London arena and exhibition enclave where the King Tut show played before coming to Dallas) can get one, but, if you're willing to consider a no-refund alternative, have they got a deal for you! Fans can have their very own souvenir ticket, to a concert that will never happen! And, claims AEG, it's one that Jackson himself designed shortly before his death! (Please click below to read on.)

Photo: Michael Jackson performing during halftime of the Jan. 31, 1993 Super Bowl, won by the Dallas Cowboys 52-17

LONDON -- This city may come to be known as the beginning of the end for Michael Jackson. That certainly appeared to be the conclusion of the London Evening Standard on Friday night, when the blaring headline read: "JACKSON FAMILY BLAMES LONDON." The story quoted family lawyer Brian Oxman as accusing "enablers" of "pushing Jackson too hard physically in preparation for the 50 comeback concerts in London" that were scheduled to begin July 13. And where were those shows supposed to take place? The O2, the sprawling arena and exhibition enclave in East London where "Tutankhamun and the Golden Age of the Pharaohs" took place before heading to the Dallas Museum of Art last October. The O2 has welcomed through its doors Celine Dion, the Eagles and Tut. Its owner is the Anschutz Entertainment Group, which, of course, is headed up by reclusive Colorado billionaire Philip Anschutz, who also owns Arts and Exhibitions International, which, along with the Egyptian government, staged the Tut show at the DMA. MTV reported that the Anschutz Entertainment Group faced the "daunting task" of having to refund $85 million in ticket sales for 50 sold-out concerts and that Jackson had passed a physical to obtain insurance for the 50 concerts. The Los Angeles Times reported that AEG had invested a reported $20 million in production costs for the "This Is It" concerts with an expected profit of about $115 million and a three-year worldwide tour that could have grossed $450 million. By Monday, the focus had shifted a bit, with the London papers quoting Joe Jackson, the singer's father, about allegations of foul play, almost as though London itself were getting a reprieve when it came to the blame game. (Please click below to read on.)

Photo: Michael Jackson

OK, Jerry: One complaint -- I just got stuck in the ladies' room outside the media area for, oh, 10 minutes. I closed the door for privacy, only to discover -- NO HANDLE on the inside. I understand about being "still in progress," but still ... it was a little scary. I had to text-message my cohort, Mario Tarradell, to come get me, and the first time it wouldn't go through (the TRUE terror of seeing "no bars" on the cellphone). It did finally go through ... but I had been pounding on the door for about 10 minutes by then. LOVELY bathroom, but I didn't want to spend the last 10 minutes of George Strait in there. Invest in door handles, soon.

T-shirt watching is a pastime of mine. I like seeing and reading what's on them and who's wearing them. I get a kick out of it. During the stage set change from Lee Ann Womack into Blake Shelton two members of Shelton's road crew caught my eye. One had on a black T that said "Blake Shelton Crew." Obvious, right? So far so good. Then another guy had a Foreigner Agent Provocateur tour shirt. Hmm...that one made me stare. Agent Provocateur is Foreigner's fifth studio album. It was released in 1984 and is best known for featuring the sought-after, gospel-tinged ballad "I Want to Know What Love Is." I thought "how cool" and "how odd" almost at the same time. Would love to know the back story of that guy's torso attire.

Haven't had much time to blog from the George Strait concert, what with actually trying to cover the concert, but I must say, I'm surprisingly impressed by Cowboys Stadium as a concert venue. The sound and sightlines are wonderful, and the 60-yard-wide video screens, which I expected to detract from the live ambiance of a concert, actually add to the experience, because you can see every emotion on the performers' faces. You also catch interesting glimpses of the band, such as the photos the keyboard player has set on his instrument as, one supposes, inspiration.

No offense to Julianne Hough, but most fans were thrilled that Lee Ann Womack filled in for her -- if someone's going to get bragging rights to being the first performer at Cowboys Stadium, it seems only fitting that it's a native Texan and someone of her stature.

I also have to mention how accommodating the Cowboys staff was, even sending two AT&T guys to help us when we had connectivity issues. Honestly, I was kind of dreading the insanity of tonight, but now I'm thrilled and excited to say I was here on opening night. It's a gorgeous, fabulously appointed facility, and Dallas-Arlington-Fort Worth can be very proud of it. Thumbs up, Jerry.

When it comes to music, we all have our favorites. And Jimmy LaFave has rapidly become one of mine. I first heard his name a few years back from Abby Goldstein, whom I've never had the pleasure of meeting. Abby once hosted a dynamite show on KERA-FM (90.1) called Lone Star Saturday Night. She played LaFave, Robert Earl Keen, Billy Joe Shaver, Lisa Loeb, Rhett Miller, The Derailers, Slaid Cleaves, Guy Clark and many other Texas heavyweights. I was driving around on a rainy night when I first heard her play LaFave's terrific cover of "Walk Away Renée," a hit single in 1966 by The Left Banke. Judging by the way he handles it, only LaFave was meant to record that song. Sadly, Abby moved to New England in 2006, spelling the end of Lone Star Saturday Night. I have since learned, however, that LaFave makes frequent trips to North Texas for live shows, one of which he performed Thursday night at a gorgeous little venue next to the pool at the Belmont Hotel in Oak Cliff. (Please click below to read on!)

Photo: Jimmy LaFave and John Inmon during a past show at Bend Studio in Dallas

FRISCO -- For most of the nearly five hours I spent at Kenny Chesney's Sun Carnival Tour on Saturday night, I was teetering (and shivering) between two thoughts: "Gosh, these performers sure have gumption and 'show-must-go-on' commitment, to keep performing when it's raining buckets and there's lightning flashing, and oh, gee, there's all that electrical equipment onstage," and "Are the people who organized this thing out of their minds? Call it quits and get us out of here before the tornado hits or a transformer blows!"

That said, Lady Antebellum, Miranda Lambert and Kenny Chesney did put on a heck of a show before, just 45 minutes into his headlining set, Chesney finally did what should have been done before the concert started: "I think it'd be best for everyone if we all got the hell out of here," he said before the stage went dark.

Look for a full review of the truncated show -- what with Sugarland's last-minute cancellation and Chesney's abbreviated set, Lindale native Lambert actually got the most stage time -- at Guidelive.com on Sunday afternoon, and in the print edition on Monday.

There is a moment in the best concerts when performer and audience connect, and the music resonates so powerfully that the rest of the evening is defined by it. Such a moment occurred during her 11th song Monday night, when Bonnie Raitt sang John Prine's "Angel from Montgomery."
The show marked the 8th annual benefit for Special Care & Career Services, and Raitt was the perfect choice.
Whether the emotion in the song came from Raitt's sadness over a family member who's ill, or the crowd at Meyerson Symphony Center feeling a collective anxiety over a terrifying economy, the lyrics "to believe in this living is just a hard way to go" seemed to tug at everyone's heartstrings.
"Angel from Montgomery" drew a rousing ovation, but there were plenty of high points generated by a 59-year-old performer who is truly a force of nature. With her flaming red hair now flecked with gray, Raitt can move from blues to reggae to pop as well as anyone.
To hear her sing the knockout ballad "I Can't Make You Love Me" -- which benefited enormously from the deft jazz piano of Ricky Peterson -- is all the proof anyone would need that Bonnie Raitt is truly her father's daughter. The late John Raitt was a Broadway star whose pedigree included Oklahoma! and Carousel.
They sang together on his 1995 album, Broadway Legend, but early on in her West Coast girlhood, Raitt picked up a guitar and made herself a master of the blues. She did terrific covers Monday night of John Hiatt's "Thing Called Love" and James Taylor's "Rainy Day Man." And though she wore jeans while many in the crowd wore business suits and evening gowns, performer and audience were one, held together by the blues.

Photo: Bonnie Raitt in concert at the Meyerson on Monday night

The first time I saw Bonnie Raitt, she was opening for Jackson Browne. It was 1974, at McFarlin Auditorium on the campus of my alma mater, Southern Methodist University. He was in the midst of his Late for the Sky tour, and she was the only woman, surrounded by 13 guys from two bands on the same tour bus, en route to 50 American cities. I also saw her live in San Diego in 1987, when she appeared as the surprise guest for a concert featuring Jackson and David Lindley. As great as they are -- as much as I love their music -- Bonnie more or less blew everybody off the stage that night. I soon learned there was a reason for that: She was feeling fantastic, having become clean and sober and fit. And in two years, she would release Nick of Time, her breakout album, and the first of a string of Platinum recordings. I next saw her live in Santa Cruz, Calif., on a bitterly cold night in December 1998, and again, her ability to seize the stage left me amazed. Well, now, it's your turn to see Bonnie Raitt, simply by going to Meyerson Symphony Center on Monday night. (Please click below to read on!)

Photo: The great Bonnie Raitt

It's a sad moment for the devotees of acoustic music. Lynn Adler and Lindy Hearne, co-founders of Crossroads Coffeehouse & Music Co., in the Piney Woods town of Winnsboro in East Texas, announced Friday that they will close the venue in mid-May. Crossroads served as a beacon of terrific music for more than three years in Winnsboro, about 100 miles east of Dallas. Adler and Hearne brought to its backporch-like stage such names as Jimmy LaFave, Eliza Gilkyson, Ray Wylie Hubbard, Billy Joe Shaver, Ruthie Foster, Kinky Friedman and Steven Fromholz. The venue's final show will be Saturday, May 16, with a concert by John Gorka. Adler and Hearne recently released their own album, To the Heart, and Adler says it was less the economy and more the desire to pursue their own music that led to the closing. "It was a very organic feeling," she said of the decision to close the venue, which operated in a turn-of-the-century hardware store on Winnsboro's Main Street. "It was like a season. It was our season to do that, in terms of our own personal story."

Photo: The great Radoslav Lorkovic plays the accordion during a Crossroads concert by Jimmy LaFave

GRAND PRAIRIE -- Standing before a near-capacity crowd at Nokia Theatre on Wednesday night, Jackson Browne confessed to feeling a wee bit self-conscious any time he plays Texas.
"It's such a ripping, guitar-burning state," he said, no doubt referring to such native Dallas pickers as the late Stevie Ray Vaughan.
But there was no reason for apology. Backed by his incredibly gifted band, Mr. Browne blitzed through 21 songs that had the crowd on its feet for much of the night. And he pulled it off while trying to get over a cold.
He showcased songs from his new album, Time the Conqueror, whose late September release came just before Mr. Browne's 60th birthday. It's a musically charged, infectiously energetic record whose offerings range from the political ("The Drums of War") to the sweetly personal ("Just Say Yeah," which Mr. Browne dedicated to his longtime girlfriend). (Please click below to read more!)

Photo: Jackson Browne

So, I drove to Winnsboro on Saturday night and heard yet another cool concert at Crossroads Coffeehouse & Music Co. Jimmy LaFave was the headliner; the warm-up act, who also lives in Austin, was BettySoo. She has played Dallas before (Uncle Calvin's Coffeehouse back in February), but if she plays anywhere nearby in the coming months, you should get in the car and go. She has an angelic voice, plays a mean guitar and has a gifted storyteller's touch in crafting a song. "Never the Pretty Girl" was among my favorites, but they were all good. She got a well-deserved standing-O encore, which, as you know, is rare for a warm-up act. Lindy Hearne and Lynn Adler, who have a great thing going at Crossroads, promise to bring BettySoo back as a headliner. She's scheduled to play Longview in January, but by going here, you can check out her full schedule.

Photo: Betty Soo on one of her album covers

It was 7 o'clock on a Thursday night, but that didn't stop a near-capacity crowd from filling McDavid Studio in downtown Fort Worth. These were just the kind of folks who normally would have hunkered down at home to watch the vice-presidential debate. (Granted, more than a few were catching it later on Tivo.) But they had come to hear John Gorka, who has a loyal following indeed. And why not? Few acoustic musicians -- few songwriters, period -- are as gifted as this guy. Whether it was anti-war songs ("Let Them In" and "Writing in the Margins") or hearbreak ballads ("I Saw a Stranger With Your Hair" and "Love Is Our Cross to Bear"), John Gorka delivered as he always does. But one of the best things about hearing this bearded Minnesotan (who was born in New Jersey and educated in Pennsylvania) is his humor, whether it's delivered on stage in numerous witty asides or in lyrics. Take "People My Age," for instance: "People my age," he sang, "have started looking gross." Way too many laughs of recognition for that one.
(McDavid Studio, by the way, has emerged as one very cool venue.)
Photo: John Gorka

For lovers of acoustic music, this promises to be quite a week in Fort Worth. It all gets started Wednesday night, when a trio of virtuoso guitarists (Tommy Emmanuel, Monte Montgomery and Rhett Butler) team up for a show at Bass Performance Hall at 7:30. It carries with it a special $10 ticket offer for students and faculty. But like a fine wine, the week only gets better with age. The Sarah Palin-Joe Biden debate notwithstanding, John Gorka comes to McDavid Studio (across the street from Bass Hall) for one of his one-of-a-kind shows at 7 p.m. Thursday. And then, one of my personal favorites, the great Gretchen Peters, finishes off the week with a show in McDavid Studio at 8 p.m. Friday. Gretchen will be backed up, as usual, by one of the world's greatest piano players, Barry Walsh. For more information, call 817-212-4280 or visit www.basshall.com.

Photo: Gretchen Peters

All you'll ever need to pretend you went to this year's Austin City Limits music fest yourself:

Slideshow: Some ACL performers doing their thing
• 9/30/08: Austin City Limits bucks traditions, but plays it smooth
• 9/29/08: Austin City Limits performer Nicole Atkins serious about career
• 9/28/08: Funk-rock band Black Joe Lewis gettin' buzz at ACL
• 9/27/08: The menu at Austin City Limits Music Festival is loaded
• 9/26/08: Dallas area acts hitting Austin City Limits Music Festival
• Live blogging: Catch up on ACL here
• AP: Texas charity keeps Austin and its musicians healthy

And now, the sad. Our resident rock guru and all-around cool guy Mike Daniel will be leaving us soon. ACL was his last major gig for The News (well, as a full-time staffer, that is. We'll be pouncing on him for freelance in the future, for sure). He's been a big player in the music section for a long, long time and he'll be missed. Happy adventures, big guy!

(Photo: Hiker Mike on Ben Nevis in Scotland)

1). At no recent ACL has the balance of the day's 60,000 festival-goers been as skewed to one side of Zilker Park as on Sunday. And Saturday, for that matter, but wait a second for that. On Sunday, 80 percent of the remaining crowd clogged the east side of the park since Foo Fighters has the final performance slot all to themselves on the AT&T Stage ... and three hours earlier, Blues Traveler (of all bands, why that one?) made the Dell Stage seem like the place to be despite horrible sound while Okkervil River put on a much more satisfying set on the park's west side on the AT&T Blue Room Stage. At one point during MGMT's performance on that same stage on Saturday, the throng was so solid all the way back to the knoll to the west of Rock Island that pedestrian flow completely stopped. Why MGMT? Who knows? Its set was about as compelling as Blues Traveler's ...

1). Gnarls Barkley. For the last performance of a four-month tour, Cee-Lo, Danger Mouse and their tux-with-silver-bowtie-sporting backing band left way too much in the dressing room. The duo's live shows are notoriously unpredictable, both in terms of quality and spontaniety (what dress will Cee-Lo perform in tonight?), and it was highly disappointing that it decided to mail things in rather than let things run amok. To be fair, Cee-Lo did sound like his voice was faltering in upper registers because of wear. But man, make up for it by doing something "Crazy", huh?

2). Neko Case. ACL just wasn't where the New Pornographer's country-folk material was going to shine, and as such, Ms. Case's playing ACL a year and a half after releasing a live album titled Live From Austin, TX was unfortunate. She sang and gestured with little enthusiasm, and her subtle and often simple and short compositions are too compact and nuanced to translate on a big stage such as the AMD Stage. A waste of time very similar to Alison Krauss and Robert Plant's turn on the same stage on Saturday, which possessed nowhere near the power and poetry that it did in an enclosed and dedicated headlinging appearance.

Sunday was the Austin City Limits Music Festival's rockin' day; many of the acts scheduled to perform fell into the realm of modern rock, blues rock and jam rock. As such, it also ended up being the festival's lightest attendance day; tickets didn't sell out until well into the afternoon, and frankly, the performances were lackluster for much of that time. Not a great way to end things. Highlights were few, but they were there:

1) the Raconteurs. Jack White's shaved his facial hair, but Brendan Benson's grown a moustache. Even so, they both leapt onto the AMD Stage with matching straw fedoras on. Once they were shed, the band tore through 75 minutes of material with the gusto of a teen-age punk band despite Mr. White's admission that not only was he feeling under the weather, but that he's got a slipped disk in his upper back. (OUCH). The performance had several times more energy and activity as its show at Dallas' House of Blues in early April, mere days after its second album, Consolers of the Lonely, was released. It was obvious that the band was much, much more comfortable with the new material.

1). Bizarre sight of the day: seeing a member of the grounds crew using a wet-dry vacuum to suck up standing water on the grass behind Rock Island. See: you can vacuum a lawn!

2). The Rock and Recycle volunteer cleanup crew at ACL is doing yeoman's work ... but the group's actually not doing much of the work itself. They're carrying around signs that state "ask me about a free T-shirt"; when you ask, you learn that to earn the shirt you must collect a large trash bag full of recyclable bottles and cans. The bit is working amazingly well; you can't walk for a minute without seeing a festival-goer lugging around a towering blue plastic sack while scouring the park for disposables. And until dark (when the scouring becomes impossible), Zilker Park is unbelievably free of discarded trash.

More later ... got to prepare for my breakfast date with Nicole Atkins. ;)

1). Erykah Badu. Sorry to say it, but Dallas' queen of neo-soul talked too much. After "Love of My Life," she threw down this bizarre scat solo using two curse words as anchors, then she spent three or four minutes rambing on about why the heck she named her new album New Amerykah Part One (4th World War). Something about occupation ... anyway, by that time she'd created a noticeable exodus away from the AT&T Stage. She did finish stronger with decent versions of "Tyrone" and "Honey," but she was as loose as her hair (worn down) and her garb (a smiley-face T-shirt) at ACL, and that was too loose.

2). MGMT. Though a huge crowd gathered for its set on the AT&T Blue Room Stage (read about just how big in the next post) and MGMT's live show has improved in power and tightness since South by Southwest in March, the Brooklyn electro-rock duo's music still lacks hooks, character and distinction. Neither Ben Goldwasser and Andrew VanWyngarden know how to work a crowd, either. Horrible, and darn near unlistenable. Maybe the crowd was so big because they were all taking a break to drink.

Saturday at the Austin City Limits Music Festival was about the groove. Well, about half the time, anyway: it seemed like half the acts were soul- and R&B-derived, and the other half were either quiet indie songwriters or country-fried rockers. Quite a contrast, and it created some conflicts. But good performances were many. The top ones:

1). Fleet Foxes. The Seattle outfit's music can be rightly dubbed ambient folk: creamy harmonies and basic instrumentation that interweaves like an aural magic dragon to create a sunny, swirling cloud of rough-hewn song. Somehow -- the early performance time of 12:30 p.m. on the AMD Stage likely had a lot to do with this -- the music coagulated into a pixie-dusted wall of delight, as if it were a soundtrack to some Legend-like fantasy movie set in rural Kentucky. It was beautiful in an overall-sporting, gap-toothed way. To top it off, the band's members were extremely loose and spontaneous with their on-stage banter. "I'm sleepy," was drummer J. Tillman's intro. "Isn't is reassuring that banks can't manage money, just like regular people?" mused keyboardist Casey Westcott. Funny stuff.

1) This year's Official Program. It's 128 pages, color-coded and exceedingly informative. The master stroke? It's pocket sized for 2008, measuring roughly 4 by 5 inches. And it's free.

2). Labor Day may have passed by a few weeks ago, but musicians are still wearing white as the color of choice. David Byrne's entire band had it on; Pharrell of N.E.R.D. paired it with red jeans and a ball cap; English blue-eyed soul dude Jamie Lidell (think Adam Levine with Buddy Holly's glasses on, and you've got him nailed) sported a white choral robe (and his bassist rocked a white 1970s-era zip-up jump suit); half of Hot Chip had all manner of white garb around. Even Gogol Bordello's bassist, Thomas Gobena, had a white beanie cap with faux dreads on to match his white sunglasses. Oh, and then there's Eugene Hutz, who's just pale by nature.

3). Quote of the day: "I don't care if you're a [expletive] Republican or a [expletive] Democrat. Just vote!" -- Pharrell of N.E.R.D. Related ironic observation: how few patrons were in the Rock Island Hideaway open wine lounge watching last night's presidential debate on the lounge's big screens. Well, people were at ACL to see music, after all ...

1) Paula Nelson. She's a thirtysomething Austinite who's trying to make a name for herself as a blues-rock singer. Only she never will make a name for herself because her dad, one Willie Nelson, has already done it for her. She's got his nasal, treble-heavy voice and his static stage presence -- almost to the point of disinterest. Neither works in blues rock, especially when the music has all the fire of a stomped-out cigarette butt. Good for a celebrity party but little else.

2). Ryan Bingham. Not because he's no good -- his easygoing and svelte alt-country is gaining quality by the month -- but because even in front of the BMI Stage, his relatively stately and quiet music was utterly ruined by N.E.R.D.'s earth-moving bass tones and David Byrne's charmingly weird but effective (and loud) take on world pop. (M. Ward had the same problem on the WaMu Stage until he went full electric after his set's first few songs).

3). Slightly Stoopid. File this one under "We didn't see it because there's no point" because we've seen it before, and there's no point seeing it again. It's jock ska that frat punks get drunk to, and nothing more. Monkey see name, monkey be name, ya know?

A'ight. Since it's been established that my smartphone now officially belongs in a museum, here's the plan: I'll post three blogs a night after each day at Austin City Limits: The good, the bad, and the lovely -- 'lovely' as in notable 'gotta love it!'-style random notes. Each blog'll have three acts or items mentioned.

So here's Day 1, the good:

1) N.E.R.D. The set to see of Day 1. If you missed it, you suck. How could you miss it; the bass was so deep it must've traveled through the earth's crust like an earthquake; the energy was so explosive it generated its own magnetic field to attract the uninitiated. "You Know What" was as taut as a drive belt on a phat-funk Porsche, and singer Pharrell wasn't a "Rock Star Poser" after that joint rumbled and a breakdancer humbled. Pharrell had 30 or 40 crowd members jumping and grinding on stage during the espionage-licked groove of "Lapdance." N.E.R.D. had everyone feeling better than James Bond; shaken and stirred.

You nailed it, Christy. My smartphone's simply not working past 3 p.m. or so at ACL, and I suspect this is why (beware: I'm about to get a little technical, music lovers)

I have an older smartphone that uses GPRS for its data transfer protocol. That's old technology; newer smartphones are using what's called "G3" protocol that's about 10 times faster (I think) than GPRS. Also, more phones with data-transfer capability -- not to mention smartphones by themselves -- are in use than ever now. And when many, many people congregate in one place with all those phones -- like 60,000 at Zilker Park for a day of ACL -- network tieups happen.

Only in my case, the tieups shut me out since I have slow technology. Last year at ACL, I had occasional connectivity problems but was able to post blogs after another try or two. This year, I can't even use the data capability because my phone can't even verify itself on its network.

So until I upgrade, I'm down and out with the live blogging and Twittering. Phooey.

Mike called and said he's having phone trouble, which is keeping him from live-blogging and twittering at the moment. He's working on it. At worst, he'll post and twitter a flurry of stuff tonight back at his room, so stay tuned. Meanwhile check out ...

• Dallas area acts hitting Austin City Limits Music Festival

And check here through the weekend for his ACL-act reviews.

• Follow Mike on Twitter now

In about an hour I'll be heading into Zilker Metropolitan Park for Day 1 of 2008's Austin City Limits Music Festival. And oh, what joy it shall bring. I'm not talking about the music. The lineup's actually weaker than previous years, in my opinion, especially in the realm of indie rock.

I'm talking weather: predicted highs in the high 80s, sunny and nary a chance of rain all three days of the fest. That ACL's being held two weeks later than usual is juuuust fine with me and many others in that regard.

But know this: the main reason ACL is in late September has little to do with the onset of fall. It has to do with the University of Texas Longhorns. Organizers schedule it during a week when the massively popular football team isn't in town. But Hurricane Ike messed that strategy up, since a game with the University of Arkansas two weeks ago had to be reschuedled to tomorrow. Here. In Austin.

Oh, tomorrow's gonna be no fun for the natives. (and by the way: single-day ACL tickets for Saturday are already sold out, so you horn flashers don't need to bother about doubling up your fun).

Austin City Limits is this Friday through Sunday, and Big Mike will be down there covering it. In addition to some cool features and live-blogging, he's trying something new. Throughout the day, each day, he'll be Twittering his observations, information and thoughts on the mass of humanity and music going on at the state capital's Zilker Park (kind of like how pop culture critic Tom Maurstad did during the Toronto Film Festival recently). The Twitter action will take place here.

Don't have a Twitter account yet? Sign up and add guidelivemusic to your "follow" list.

Also online
Story: ACL latest to offer VIP comforts

Back in 2007, I gave ex-Soundgarden/Audioslave singer Chris Cornell's second solo CD, Carry On, a reasonably positive review (generally, reviews were mixed on the album). Though it lacked any strong singles beyond "You Know My Name" (the theme from the James Bond movie Casino Royale), I called it a watershed work because of its subtle and playful reimagining of 1970s and 80s pop rock and soul.

Somehow, Mr. Cornell saw the review and thought well enough of it to request an informal meeting Saturday at the Projekt Revolution tour.

What was supposed to be a hey-thanks, great-to-meet-you, two-minutes-tops rendezvous backstage turned into a 13-minute discussion about art, music as escapism, technology, and the effect of place and experience on expression.

I thought maybe this wasn't Ashes Divide. It's too punky, too guttural, too, well, tribal.

Sure enough, the band performing is experimental techno-punk percussionists Street Drum Corps, which was originally supposed to open the Revolution Stage on this tour. Then, it got moved up to close that side stage just before the tour started a few weeks ago.

And now, it's breaking in the Main Stage. Pretty darned commendably and forcefully, I might add ... but I cant help but think "Punk Stomp" when I see these guys. Meh ...

Atreyu finished on the parking lot-simmered Revolution Stage at 5:05 p.m. Ten minutes later, a rush of fans stormed the lawn on its south side.

Whether they were allowed to do so is unknown. But it's not exactly a controlled way to begin letting patrons take their places, even on the general-admission lawn.

Two minutes later, the queue for the reserved seats started moving S-L-O-W-L-Y, since tix had to be checked, one by one. One line, two or thee ticket ushers, at least a couple of thousand people.

Seven or eight minutes later, Ashes Divide Street Drum Corps (!) starts its set more than 20 minutes EARLY.

Kind of nuts, people. Kind of nuts ... well, at least the line's orderly. Lots of frowns around, though.

OK, I have to give Atreyu proper props. Though Alex Varkatzas is struggling with range and projection, both he and his bandmates' energy is highly commendable

Of the bands that have emerged out of Southern California's hard-core and screamo scene, Atreyu is, in my estimation, the most charismatic and talented. Avenged Sevenfold may have more chops, style and swagger, but Atreyu majorly trumps it in honesty, effort and positivity. No, it may not last quite as long as A7X, but it's still worthy of memory.

Keep that copy of Lead Sails Paper Anchor for a few years, kids. In, say, 2013, listen to it before A7X's recent self-titled release. Betcha think the former's better. Because it is.

I arrived at the Dallas stop of Linkin Park's Projekt Revolution Tour about 45 minutes ago to find some telling things.

First off, attendance is paltry for the afternoon portion, which started at 1 p.m. For a concert of this size, four grand (that's my estimate) is troubling - and maybe half that are taking in California metal band Atreyu's poor set. Alex Varkatzas appears to have lost most of his voice; Lucky for him, he's being good natured about it on stage -- and that this is the tour's second-to-last stop.

The other two grand are waiting for the ampitheater to open. That's right: it's been closed for show prep for the main stage the entire 95-degree-and-humid-as-heck afternoon. Not cool. Literally.

Oh, and to those folks who were complaining about the $4.50 price of bottled water at Ozzfest a couple of weeks ago? It's a relative bargain here: just $4 (and that's Superpages.com Center's standard price)!

Just now, Jesus Christ Pose(d). Wow.

Former Soundgarden and Audioslave singer Chris Cornell blew the roof off of Superpages.com Center with a set that was far and waaay away better than any of his recent turns in Dallas.

But be warned: his upcoming new CD, Scream, is not what most will expect from him. (Hint: it was co-written and produced by none other than hip hop superproducer Timbaland).

But even the two new synth-assisted (!!!) cuts that Mr. Cornell performed tonight - "Watch Out" and "Scream" - had a fire about them that's been missing from his shows for years. Plus, the duet he did on "Hunger Strike" with Linkin Park's Chester Bennington was darned cool. Interesting note: Mr. Bennington handled Mr. Cornell's screams on the chorus of the Temple of the Dog track, while Mr. Cornell sang the lower registers originally done by Eddie Vedder.

Mr. Cornell looked like he's been reborn at age 44. More about that later, so stay tuned ...

Attendance here has now become respectable; I'd say that about 11 to 12,000 are present. That's mean that about seven grand or so were either smart or otherwise occupied and stayed away until the storms that are in the area cooled things off a bit. No rain here yet, but it's been threatening.

You can always tell how diverse a crowd is by the variety of band shirts that are being worn - not for the acts playing the actual concert, but for others. The variety here - from Snoop Dogg to Dropkick Murphys and Dimmu Borgir to Michael Jackson - is naturally telling.

I've never warmed to this act much. It's too faux-British, too contrived, too, well ... I'll put it this way: it's retro-pop just feels overblown.

However, I have to say that live, the band appears more chummy and organic. It looks like it's having fun, and the delivery of its Oasis-by-way-of-Duran Duran power pop is calming. Boy, these guys spout off one singalong chorus after another singalong chorus ... and then another ... and another ....

What puzzles me is why it's on this tour. This is a mainstream rock tour, not a hipster-hyped next-big-thing blowout. Then again, the Bravery HAVE had a top 10 Modern Rock hit. Is the paradigm changing? Yes, but it's not ruled by Brittania. Yet (I know that I'll rue that day).

It's pretty easy to describe this band's music: a more mature and atmospheric 30 Seconds to Mars.

And since that Jared Leto-led act's gonna be a while releasing a follow-up to A Beautiful Lie (y'all've heard about Virgin's asenine $30 million lawsuit against the band for failure to deliver a new record on time, I hope), it's perfectly acceptable to migrate your 30STM fan-dom to this act.

Granted, Billy Howerdel doesn't have Mr. Leto's celebrity rep, nor his looks, nor his charisma. But the reserved and introspective Mr. Howerdel wasn't exactly a natural match to be Tool's guitar tech, much less the musical brains behind A Perfect Circle, either.

That said, there's a natural relationship between APC and Ashes musically. This is more obvious and less presumptious stuff ... and it's being performed with precision and nobility.

Members of the Tejano music group Carlos y los Cachorros gathered around a waterfall in the lobby of the Hyatt Regency this afternoon wearing black cowboy hats, boots, and green paisley button-down shirts. They stood out among the passerby in the hotel, so I felt compelled to go up to them and ask about their outfits.

"We like to dress in the traditional Tejano wear," said group member Matthew Luna. "It appeals to the older crowd more." The group's philosophy, he noted, is to "dress to impress," particularly when performing at weddings or other formal events.

Carlos y los Cachorros, which is in its fifth consecutive week of touring, arrived in Dallas late Friday night. The group is scheduled to perform three sets tonight at the Dallas Convention Center starting at around 9 p.m. With their matching, traditional garb, they shouldn't be hard to miss.

I took some time this morning to talk with Tejano saxophonist and vocalist Joe Posada, who was giving a class on the history of the saxophone. Posada sat one-on-one with the few people in attendance and enlightened them with information about the history of the saxophone and its significance in the Tejano music tradition. The saxophone, Posada says, puts a stamp on his music and makes it identifiable to Tejano music fans. He pointed to Tejano musicians Beto Villa, Isidro Lopez, and Alfonso Ramos as his inspirations.

When I asked the four-time Tejano Academy Award winner what he thought about the idea that Tejano music is losing its appeal, he said: "What's struggling is not the music. It's the radio station airplay. We just have to go back to the way it was." Paying continuous tributes to the late Selena, he said, was once important. He noted that the focus nowadays, though, should be on the performers who are out in the industry, trying to make a living and keep Tejano music alive.

You can watch Posada in action tonight starting at 8 p.m. at the Dallas Convention Center.

Tonight's performances are all about connecting with the audience. Most of the performers have bent down to the crowd's level. They've shaken their hands and given them fist pumps. Their body language and their energy seem to say, "This one's for you."

The performers are noticeably bringing people together. I'm amazed by how many couples there are here! Lots of people are holding hands, resting their heads on each other's shoulders and embracing each other while dancing.

The crowd seems to be picking up as the night progresses. For those still waiting in line to register for the event, Tejano Music Festival tote bags are being handed out. Inside the bags are "Tejano por Vida" flyers with information about tomorrow's line-up of events.

The Dallas Convention Center tonight is filled withTejano music fans who are hitting the dance floor in droves. Behind the performers, a screen flashes images that look like a lava lamp illuminating the stage. While some dance, others are gathered around the stage taking photos of the performers. For the wallflowers of the night, there are plenty of tables and seats, only about a quarter of which are filled.

More than one performer has called the convention a "beautiful event," a reminder of a genre of music that isn't dead, but that's struggling. But if only for tonight, it's a genre that seems alive and well.

If dancing makes these Tejano music fans work up an appetite, a chimichanga or two should help satisfy their hunger. Taco, chimichanga, nacho stands and more line the back of the convention hall, though at the moment not too many people seem to be looking for food. They're too busy dancing and enjoying the live music. The night, after all, is still young.

Sevendust. Again: same ol' same ol'. Singer Lajon Witherspoon looked a tad more spent and beaten down than usual (and that's saying something: he's stout as singers go). And the music? Do I HAVE to repeat myself?

Hellyeah's throwing out its usual too-much-talk-and-not-enough-rock set. Chad Gray's voice is in top shape' though, and the band is thick (It's version of "Nausea" right now is phenomenal). As trite as tributes to Dimebag Darrell are these days, the one about to happen should be a hellacious treat ... especially since folks are much, much more tipsy in general than they were just a couple of hours ago ...

...OK Mr. Gray is screaming too much now. Restraint, man, restraint!

Well, considering what Korn's Jonathan Davis has dealt with the past few years - near death, two despondent bandmates, a flat-out poor last Korn CD that flopped - it's no wonder he wants to do a bit of his own thing.

But you know, dressing in dapper all-black, sitting on a red crushed-velvet-upholstered throne and hiring some eclectic musicians (including an upright bassist, a guy that plays a double-necked electric violin, and Booker T. Washington grad Zac Baird on keyboards) is not enhancing Mr. Davis' stature. Especially when almost all of the songs are dialed-down Korn rehashes.

Mr. Davis' voice does sound OK, and he's quite active on stage in spurts (i.e. when his backside's off that throne). But this is ... uh ... eclectic. That's the best I can come up with now. And Mr. Davis would probably consider that light praise. Maybe it is ... I've gotta sleep on this ...

"Kick the P.A." indeed.

Yes, the moving of the side stages from the concrete east parking lot to the adjacent undeveloped ground was good. The condition of it, though, is not.

Giant cracks up to a foot deep, caused by the unrelenting sun combined with relatively little summer rain, zigzag across the area. They're worst where the midway of Ozzfest is set up, between the stadium and the side stages and slightly to the south

I've seen nothing serious there yet, but I can just imagine some inebriated yahoo messing up an ankle or a knee BAD after stepping in one of those. Eeek. I shiver just thinking about that.

Speaking of slightly south: the breeze is coming from that direction, making the best spots to hear the side stage bands slightly north of front. Why? The sound's moving downwind!

I lied: I had to post one more item.

So Ozzy went 35 minutes late. But he made up for it with a neat little fireworks show afterward. Really! They set off a bunch of 'em behind the north side of the stadium.

So festive. Yay. Now bring out the freakin' Mighty Met already!

That's always been said of the ex-Sepultura front man. You know: the kind who always marches to his own drum beat (and that's an apt metaphor, considering how Sepultura revolutionized the rhythms of metal almost 20 years ago).

But here, he's proving himself truly nutty. He's playing on the Main Stage with Cavalera Conspiracy in full freakin' fatigues; only during the last vitriolic, loud-as-heck song did he mercifully shun his combat-weight coat.

At least the set's insane, and he's representing his country better here than most Brazilians are likely to at the Beijing Olympics: he's playing a guitar with the Brazilian flag emblazoned on the body, and an amp stack's shrouded in another flag. Nice!

Ozzy's blown the template. Things stayed rigidly on schedule until his set, which is now on its encore - "Mama, I'm Coming Home," complete with a Gibson double-neck guitar over Zakk Wylde's beefy shoulders - but the set's run almost 30 minutes long at this point.

That means the Mighty Met won't go on until at least 10:10 ... and its allotted 90 minutes will run close to midnight. So ... this'll be my last post of the evening, since I've got to write the formal review for the print product tomorrow.

Rock on ... Ozzfest 2008 will, if today is an indication. It's been quite a high-quality ride ...

... Oh boy. A second encore song: "Paranoid." Please tell me that Metallica hasn't gone prissy on this crowd ...

... (actually, no: Ozzy's P.R. rep told me that Ozzy, well, felt a need to play longer than Metallica would. Read into that what you will!)

Call it being afraid of the deep end, call it knowing how well you can swim - but for what Drowning Pool is, it's not bad. Good power, good conviction, good energy and great charisma are all evident, even with the Texas Stage's sound cutting out at times and the now-respectable breeze causing the sound to waft like a column of smoke.

5,000 attendees are attentively taking the band's set in: that's far beyond the 500 or so that showed up at the Palladium in December to see the act. Looks like its niche - cathartic pro-military cheerleading - is paying off.

Well, the MC on the side stages made a fool of himself, didn't he?

The KDGE-FM DJ - I forget his name, and frankly I don't really give a hoo-ha, especially since he's got an East Coast accent - spent two minutes introducing who Sharon Osbourne calls "The official mayor of Ozzfest" - Dez Fafara of DevilDriver - and he was supposed to be setting up Dallas' own Drowning Pool. Or: the official metal band of the U.S Armed Forces (not really, but it may as well be).

I caught a bit of Massachusetts metalcore act Shadows Fall on the Main Stage earlier. Brian Fair's dreads are a long as ever. But the band's set was the same ol' same ol'. Ditto for metal cello trio Apocalyptica, which doesn't translate nearly as well on a huge fest stage as it did at House of Blues a few weeks ago. Maybe that's why the Mighty Met didn't join 'em onstage? Or maybe not ... Metallica's still above making cameos in tribute acts, after all, hehe ...

Oh, stop! Not that grass ...

Lawn grass. On a summer day, it's your friend. And Ozzfest realizes that.

Unlike Edgefest and most other concert events held at Pizza Hut Park, the stadium's playing field isn't covered by that springy, seam-riddled white plastic covering here. The field is blissfully nude, thus making it fairly cool to sit on as well as infinitely more comfortable.

In addition, both side stages are set up on dirt instead of on pavement. Smart move, Ozzfest ... as are the 50-foot-long mister tents, which makes Warped Tour's single square mist shelter look like a toddler's wading pool.

I just finished a short conversation with Austin fantasy metal band the Sword, which is headlining the Texas Stage in about two hours.

But that's not the coolest thing. The band opened for Metallica for a month in Europe until a few days ago. You can predict the band's opinion of the experience.

"It was awesome," said singer-guitarist J.D. Cronise. "People have wondered to us if there was any negative backlash or stuff like that in terms of liking us. Thing is, people over there have been waiting to hear Metallica play for, like, 10 years, so pretty much whatever Metallica offered up was going to be fine with them."

The band's latest, "Gods of the Earth," hasn't been as well received as its monolithic 2005 debut, "Age of Winters." But the steady climb up continues for the Sword's superb brand of so-called "heritage metal," which basically sounds like equal doses of Black Sabbath, Blue Cheer, Iron Maiden and any number of Southern rock stalwarts.

Intriguing observation: drummer Trevitt Wingo typically does most of the band's press, but he's plainly the most skeptical and grumpiest member compared to the other three. Even so, he's cool - just wary of being pigeonholed by writer schlubs like me. No worries, mate!

Ozzy is energized. For him, WAY energized. His voice is as well-preserved as it's been in years of Ozzfests, he looks trim and healthy, he's pushing his vocals far enough to be poignant, and he's clearly happy to be at his only Ozzfest appearance this year.

"Bark at the Moon" cut ears to shreds, and not just because his now-trusted guitarist sidekick, Zakk Wylde (who, it must be noted, decided not to invoke a live declaration of his own via Black Label Society at this year's version) wailed during it. The whole band is dialed in, except the bass drum's, which is too boomy as is typical at rock-festival mixes.

During "Suicide Solution," Ozzy sprayed the crowd nearest to him with what looked like firefighting foam. It wasn't water - the stuff was as white as soap suds - and he plainly loved doing the dousing. He saved the agua for the end of the next number, "Mr. Crowley:" he slung bucketfuls onto his front-stage minions then, asif rinsing off the product of his mischief.

Ozzy's always been precocious and kid-like; he just hasn't had the energy to continually act that way consistently in recent years. He's evidently saved some of the fuel in his tank for tonight.

In This Moment opened the Main Stage with one of Ozzfest 2008's many gimmicks: the only female lead singer among the 22 bands here.

Maria Brink looked like she was more closely related to Katy Perry than, say, Lita Ford. She was dressed all in white, and her outfit was capped off with a knee-high socks and a poofy skirt that Amy Lee would be jealous of if it were black or made of lace.

Thing is, the band didn't sound bad at all. The music has hooks, and Ms. Brink and the rest of the act appeared to have genuine rapport.

Look for its new CD, The Dream, in stores in late September. Interesting fact: In This Moment is one of the few acts at Ozzfest with new CDs on the horizon. The only other act with one upcoming for sure? Metallica.

... and actually, I've been here for almost an hour. I've spent that time solving some logistical issues with covering the event (seems security here is much tighter than at the typical Texas music festival). As a result, I missed a couple of bands ... but it's likely that you've never heard of them, anyway.

So: I bet you're wondering how hot it is. It is hot ... but it's not like last weekend's 107-degree temps. It's a tad more humid, but not as brutal as New Orleans post-sludge band Soilent Green's buzzy stop-start set on the Jagermeister-sponsored 2nd Stage.

If anyone should have a right to complain about the heat, it's Soilent singer Ben Falgoust. He sang for the stage's opening act, Goat*hore, just two hours ago. Kudos to the barbed wire-throated Mr. Falgoust for keeping his shirt on for this set ... even though as a NOLA native, he's used to this kind of weather-related brutality. More than most know.

Sweet! Serj Tankian's backing band (like Jonathan Davis', I can't state its name on a blog accessible to tender eyes) are all wearing top hats. The System of a Down front man's been fond of them since he launched his solo foray last year: looks like the team's bought into the concept ...

Though by the second song, "Empty Walls," all but Serj had tossed them aside. The drummer's kept on his strap-on neon green butterfly wings, though, hehe.

The set's tight, dark and throaty: easily the most measured of the performances I've seen today. Unfortunately, Serj's material doesn't have the pop touch of SoaD's stuff. It thinks more than rocks, and not many are digging it in the crowd. Serj and 10 Years singer Jesse Hacek need to take the same class in that regard ...

... though he had one genius idea: whoever handed out the small promotional mini-posters that touted Serj's new CD before his set. A bunch of people in the west-facing rows are using those as sunshades during his performance, thus giving Serj some free advertising. Brilliant!

High clouds have rolled onto the scene in earnest now, and they've helped with the sun exposure. Dimebag's still getting his, though.

Not live: that's over and only lasted four songs. Turns out the acoustic ditty was a cover: "Wish You Were Here." I missed the last number, but supposedly the figures in my last post were all involved ...

... but pictures and video clips of Dimebag still populate the big screens. OK: time to put those away, just like it's time to put the tributes away and let the great fuzzy shredder rest, you know?

As Hellyeah rolls through a hitch-filled version of "You Wouldn't Know," about 40 dignitaries have gathered stage left. The gaggle is buzzing about as much as the band performing is, actually. Some pretty huge names in metaldom are in that group, you know ...

And so, about 10 minutes later, the tribute begins. Actually, it started early this morning at Strokers Dallas on Harry Hines, where a processiion of motorcycles rode to Frisco in Dimebag's honor to kick off Ozzfest. A party at the Palladium Ballroom dubbed the Black Tooth Bash will wrap up the honorative proceedings tomorrow, with some of the same stars in attendance as here.

Various clips of him performing and cutting up fill the big screens (cheesy as heck ones, too, including one of him singing the country song "Family Tradition" looking like a reject from Autograph). Then, the all-stars launch into a nasty-good version of "Mouth for War" with Jamey Jasta on vocals and someone else on guitar (a lefty: not Kerry King, not Metallica's Kirk Hammett. Hmmm.)

Now it's Drowning Pool's C.J. Pierce, who fails to intro Max Cavalera about to sing "A New Level." Looks like Igor Cavalera on drums ... and Jaysus, this version is way heavy. Bravo (bang bang bang ... )! Then King Diamond - that's Frisco resident King Diamond, folks, and in full makeup, overcoat and top hat - adds some high-wail color. Niiice!

Pregnant pause ... sheesh, like with twins or something ... it's been five minutes now ... heck with this. I'm going to hydrate. Though the next number is an acoustic piece with way-too-thunder-like drums. Where's my water?

The final round went by very, very quickly. We were very happy with the score of 5.7 that we gave "The Guardian," even though it seemed our compatriots thought he was clearly the best. (Could it have been the drinks?)

Anyhoo, they say they'll be back in a couple of minutes with the name of the winner. And after that, they want everyone to stay for an all-star jam. And the winner is ...

5. Hardcore Hershey Highway
4. Johnny V.
3. Deviled Elvis
2. Rocko Collins

The Guardian won. We still think Rocko was the best. Ah, well. We had lots of fun, and I hope they invite us back next year.

It turns out that we were the Russian judges. But every judging pair was going in for the zingers. We had a guy in an Elvis cape, a guy in sparkly purple skintight everything and a blushing bride-to-be who threw her veil (and her modesty, it seems ... it's called a belt) to the crowd.

So, it's after 11 and the scores are being tallied for round 2. The top 5 move on to the compulsory round, where the organizers pick the song. The emcee looked a little bored, bless his heart. I thought the crowd might revolt when he pointed out "the lady in the A&M orange."

Well, it's official. We were hard on the contestants. Someone, from somewhere out in the crowd, threw something at us. Probably because for some reason, and I'm not calling any names, we were always the first team to comment and score. Whatever, man. This is America, land of the free and opinionated. Check yourself.

We just got briefed by the organizers. It seems there are 11 competitors, each getting 60 seconds to do their thing. No. Props. Allowed. That's instant disqualification. Ray asks, "Are we going to be the Russian judges," no doubt alluding to Olympics of old when those judges always gave the lowest scores.

We're judging on three things: technical merit, stage presence and airness. We get to use a scale of 4 to 6. They brought us more Sprite, and Hot Lixx Hulahan, the 2007 national champion took the microphone (wearing tails, no less). Be back soon ...

So, we're here at the Dallas regional for the U.S. AIr Guitar Championships. My significant other, who drives me everywhere (bless his heart), is going to help me judge. It's six judges tonight, so they're pairing us off. We're trying to think of a cool tandem name, but right now we'll go with the obvious: Dawn and Ray.

We're thinking that we're gonna like this gig. There's a guy in charge of getting us drinks (cold Sprites are us). And we let the organizers know that the Houston championships were in the countdown on ESPN's Sportscenter, of all places. It's dark, hot and the restaurant patrons, I'm sure, don't know what hit them. (There's a girl in the audience who I'm calling Lucy, you know, like from the Cartoon Network series Lucy, Daughter of the Devil? She's wearing red, blinking devil horns, very appropriate, I'm sure.) Oh, what a night this is going to be. Stay tuned ...

OK, it's only 7:30 ... but Warped Tour ends in about an hour, so this'll be my last entry today. Got a formal review to file (be sure to check that out here), though I do plan to stay for the start of Relient K, which has the choice final main-stage slot tonight. (A note, though: the last time slot is actually not a good one, since many of the tents are being disassembled and about half the crowd's gone by that time)

However, those tents are being broken down slower than usual today. Warped has a two-day break after today for the July 4 holiday, so time isn't a factor in terms of getting to another city by the morning. Amd that's nice because both artists and fans are hanging out longer.

Heck, 10 minutes ago, Katy Perry was STILL signing stuff - and sitting on the table in front of her tent instead of behind it. Granted, she had a bodyguard beside her ... but she was still smiling.

This Warped was ultra-smooth and really uneventful. I saw one person in distress because of the heat. I saw one gurney (and it was unoccupied). I saw no fights. I saw an amazing amount of collective rocking out, and nowhere near the levels of rudeness and discourtesy that I've noted in past years at Warped. All of that's despite both the heat and the most diverse crowd I've ever seen at a Warped Tour event.

Granted, 'diverse' means little in this case; the vast majority of attendees were, as usual, school-age kids. But this throng seemed to have kinder, gentler and more considerate kids in it.

See? Punk IS good.

See you next year!

That's being unleashed now by Buffalo, N.Y.'s Every Time I Die, which is absolutely killing folks with its larded-up-and-flash-fried brand of hardcore metal.

Telling moment: someone threw up a blow-up doll as a sacrifice, which proceded to body-surf its way up to the stage. Singer Keith Buckley proceded to grab it and give it a ride on his shoulders during several verses of "Ebolarama." All the while, his vocals are basically summoning the souls of the crowd members that the band had already slayed with its unbelievably intense and taut disrhythmic rhythms.

Wow. This, folks, is the future of post-hard-core. Even members of Paramore and Norma Jean are transfixed behind the stage. Yeeeaaah!

... for Ms. Perry: that she has to do a signing soundtracked by the horrendous racket that Greeley Estates is belching up (or, um, hurling?) on the Hurley Stage. Her tent is right across from it.

Arrggh! Get me out of here!

... OK. Katy Perry may have underwhelmed me, but some folks - oh, I'd say about 125 right now - liked her enough to line up at her artist booth. Not to buy fresh T-shirts or crushed-velvet pink gym shorts with her name arching across the buttocks, but to meet her.

Yep: this week's reigning queen of pop is signing stuff. Fifteen minutes after her set. With a smile on her face, and with what appears to be a great attitude. And with a pair of tight peach shorts on that look more like a 1950s-era girdle than fashion wear.

Mad, mod respect, Ms. Perry.