Just returned from the Richard Buckner show at the Crocodile, and it was pretty OK, especially the last 20 minutes or so. Six Parts Seven, the band he was touring with, mostly just got in the way. Buckner's amazing. He doesn't need a band. He just needs to sit there doing his trance-like semi-autistic genius thing.
He soloed for a few songs at the end and then for an encore. I think anyone who was there would agree that's when most of the magic happened.
For those of you who don't know of him, here's a clip from UTube of Buckner doing 22, a songwriting miracle if ever there was.
Meanwhile, today the new improved Real Change comes out, along with the long awaited Seattle Weekly article. They're all all in a tizzy over there about being placed on the defensive. Apparently, the rule is that one is supposed to wait for the snarky journalist to actually publish his story before publicly questioning his angle.
I prefer calling attention to a bad story before it gets published, but I guess that's just me. Call me crazy. Or defensive. Or singularly bizarre. Or whatever else you like. I don't care.
Six months ago, I wouldn't have been concerned. I knew The Weekly. They were our friends. But, since the buy out, everyone I knew there has left. The chain that owns them now has a reputation for the kind of journalism that values sensationalism over fairness.
When pretty much everyone you trust at a publication leaves, that's the sort of thing you notice.
So when friends tell me that a reporter who just moved here two months ago is asking a bunch of loaded questions, my trust in The Weekly's professional integrity doesn't exactly carry the day.
I've talked to a whole lot of people about this over the last few days. Journalists, writers, community activists, and other people who think and read and watch what's happening with the media in this town, and no one sees the weekly of today as being The Weekly we once knew.
So they've got something to prove. We'll see how they do.