"Aloneness is a state of being whereas loneliness is a state of feeling. 

I feel aloneness all the time and loneliness I hardly ever feel."

Last night, I went to Mono Records to swoop up Warren before his show with the Abigails, and scored on some vinyl. 

My favorite - 

Townes Van Zandt - Live at the Old Quarter, Houston, Texas

Recorded in a series of live, intimate performances during July of 1973, Live at the Old Quarter was first released on Tomato in 1977. The Old Quarter was a tiny venue in Houston, approximately 18 by 38 feet, operated by Rex Bells, the man made infamous by the song "Rex's Blues," and Dale Soffar. On any given night, the Old Quarter could only hold about 60 people. On the night of the recordings, according to the liner notes, over 100 people jammed into the venue, voices hushed, to hear Townes sing. The recordings are very clear - little to no clapping, no extraneous noise that oftentimes blurs the quality of a good live bar album, and Townes voice is young, optimistic over his blues-drenched chords. The album features old classics, like "Pancho and Lefty" and "If I Needed You" and "Loretta" but also rarities like "Two Girls" and "Talking Thunderbird Blues." 

The record begins with a man speaking to the audience, presumably Rex Bells. He says, "Few announcement for people who just came in - other people who've heard it five times, i'm sure. The restrooms are upstairs. Pay phones, upstairs. Pool tables, upstairs. Foosballs upstairs. Cigarette machines, upstairs."

And then Townes comes in, introduces himself. Says, "Sorry about the air conditioners being off, but, it wont be very long. If it gets really hot, I don't know what we'll do." And goes right into "Pancho and Lefty," the song that made him the most famous he's ever been. 

Between songs, he tells jokes. Makes the audience laugh. Comments on the absolute silence that hangs over each song. 

I've said it time and again, Townes was a real musician. He was humble, self-deprecating. He didn't believe in entitlement or rock-stardom, which is maybe why he died as early as he did. His music touched people. You can hear it in the silence on this record. Every member of that packed audience in the tiny matchbox Old Quarter watched him play with complete attention and reverence and awe. They watched him play, solo on stage with only his guitar, a legend before his time, playing just for them.  

I'm not a big fan of live albums. I prefer to experience live music live. But I back this one. It's a gem. 

Record Store Day is a yearly event for vinyl enthusiasts across the country, usually occurring in the third week of April. But this year, for the first time, Record Store Day is doing a new thing: Back to Black Friday. Essentially the same concept as regular Record Store Day, Back to Black Friday, taking place on November 29th, will see the release of rare vinyl like Bob Dylan's Side Tracks, Harry Nilsson's Rarities Collection, and, the one I'm obviously the most stoked on, Townes Van Zandt's Sunshine Boy: The Unheard Studio Sessions and Demos 1971-1972. 

"The vinyl version of this release housed in a 3 LP box, on clear vinyl. Includes 28 unheard versions of legendary songs by one of our most treasured songwriters. All songs drawn from his most prolific period, 1971-1972. Liner notes by Colin Escott."

The end. 

Townes Van Zandt, born John Townes Van Zandt on March 7 in 1944, is my favorite songwriter of all time. I know almost everything there is to know about him, have seen all the documentaries, listened to all the albums. I've retained so much information about Townes over the years that it still surprises me when I can spout something out, like, his dog was named Geraldine when he was living in his trailer house with Cindy (2nd wife), or he fell out of a second story window on purpose because he wanted to know what it felt like to fall. Townes' songs are haunting and beautiful and inspiring and emotional and comical, an ability unparalleled, in my opinion, by any other songwriter. Sure Bobby's songs inspired change in a restless generation and the Beatles and the Stones touched thousands of heartstrings, but Townes' was maybe the only one who did it based on absolute pure intentions (I am completely 100% biased in this opinion, so relax if you disagree). Plus Townes never got rich. He never lived in a Mansion. He never mingled with Hollywood or toured in a plane. Townes died on New Years Day in 1997. He was 52 years old. 

I listened to Our Mother The Mountain all weekend, Townes' second album, released in 1969 on Poppy Records. The cover artwork was done by the amazing Milton Glaser and features a very stern, serious-faced Townes. 

The album was recorded in Los Angeles and at "Bradley's Barn" in Nashville, a barn-turned-recording studio owned by country music producer Owen Bradley. Jack Clement, Jim Malloy, and Kevin Eggers produced the album. There are eleven tracks total: 6 on the A-side, 5 on the flip. Most of the songs on the album, like most of Townes' songs, generally speaking, are folk songs, with a moral, an outcome, a lesson, a tale. The title track, "Our Mother The Mountain," ends with a bit of precautionary advice:

So walk these hills lightly and watch who you're lovin'
By mother the mountain, I swear that it's true
Love not a woman with hair black as midnight
And her dress made of satin, all shimmering blue

If I ever had to choose what my favorite album ever was, things like Listen to Vol. 4, Pet Sounds, Revolver, Bryter Layter, and Easter Everywhere always pop to the top of my brain. But then I remember Our Mother The Mountain and realize, this will always be number one. Always. 

The end.