—————————————————— Lonesome Onry and Mean: More Reasons Why Best In Texas Is a Flaming Pile of Crap | Rocks Off | Houston | Houston Press | The Leading Independent News Source in Houston, Texas

Lonesome Onry and Mean

Lonesome Onry and Mean: More Reasons Why Best In Texas Is a Flaming Pile of Crap

Trilogy (n.): a set of three works of art that are connected and that can be seen either as a single work or as three individual works.

If euthanasia is ever legalized, one method might be to have the doctor read Ed Shane's monthly "Letter From the Publisher" in Best In Texas to the patient. Reading Shane's banalities to a terminal patient would solve any need for expensive medicines. The death certificate would report that the patient had been bored to death.

Shane's latest screed is a 700-word essay on some Nashville flack's supposed observation that we are so lucky to have "the free, unfettered sound that we enjoy here in Texas."

Shane bases this on what he calls a "trilogy" (yes, we know Ed has no idea what the definition of trilogy is even though he publishes a "magazine"; this is part of the reason that BIT reads like a rough draft of a sophomore high school theme):

1. Lots of live music;

2. "We have the advantage of hearing new music on Texas radio"; and (drum rollllllll...)

3. "To complete the trilogy, we have the advantage of record producers who don't get in the way of the talent they're recording."

Shazam, Gomer!

He then goes on to waste an entire page on his thoughts on the subject. Want a stunner thought from the Flack-in-Chief?

"I think immediately of Jack White's work with White Stripes, of Tim Armstrong's with Rancid and other edgy punk bands."

Oh, yeah, Ed is sitting around listening to edgy punk bands right now. I'll bet he's got Rancid on repeat in his iPod. Sure. It's statements like these that make BIT the undisputed crap pile that it is.

Mr. Knowledgeable then goes on to list these Texas producers who "don't get in the way of the talent." Each gets his own fawning paragraph. Radney Foster. Ray Benson. Lloyd Maines. Walt Wilkins. There's so much licking and sucking going on with this that the page feels icky to the touch.

Near the end, just before death by terminal boredom overtakes us, we do finally get a glimpse at why Glorious Leader wasted his time writing this pile of vacancy: "Bill Green at BMG studios in San Antonio - a producer also known for transparency - says that record production is one of the elements that gives Texas music an economic impact that totals almost two billion dollars annually."

Now we finally get down to what the music really means to our cynical Flack-in-Chief: cash in his pocket. Maybe Ed Einstein is way ahead of LOM here; maybe he knows he's writing to the brain dead who swallow the swill in BIT.

Euthanasia, music lovers?

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William Michael Smith