First, an admission: I didn’t get to talk to Kenny Wayne Shepherd at all. No interview or anything.

Kind of a bummer, because it means I couldn’t ask him how it feels to look back on a performing and recording career that began while he was still in his mid-teens. His debut, 1997’s Ledbetter Heights, went certified platinum, and both Trouble Is ... and Live On earned Grammy nominations in 1999.

By Chris Cooper

I’ve seen Danielle Howle completely abandon the stage and microphone in the middle of a song and wander through the audience while singing, beating on the tables and bar counter as her only accompaniment.

By Chris Cooper

What do the words “music career” mean to you? For many it’s big fancy studios, nice cars and whopping cash advances from a record label. Maybe a house in Malibu with a gold plated toilet. Worldwide superstardom and scads of shiny awards? Yeah, right.

By Chris Cooper

The name Radney Foster takes me back to the earlier days of home satellite dishes and music television. It was still a novelty to have access to so many things to watch, and in an effort not to be totally biased musically, I perused the music channels regardless of “stylistic format.”

By Chris Cooper

It’s tricky when you find the word “hype” used repeatedly in the glowing fan reviews of a band, as in: “living up to the hype” or “easily surpassing the hype” and so forth.

By Chris Cooper

Duncan Sheik demonstrates a sort of understated brilliance that’s almost alarming when you hear it. Ballads slip from majestic to broken at the turn of a phrase. Grit and political outrage collide with hypnotic guitar and carefully arranged strings. The list of enthusiastic descriptions could just go on and on.

By Chris Cooper

The brainchild of programmers Robert Smith (no, not the guy from the Cure) and Bill Walters, Blue Stone produces evocative, dreamy textures that skate between subtlety and head-spinning surprise. Taking cues from Enigma, Tangerine Dream and maybe some Enya and Sarah Brightman, Breathe goes for the dreamy soundtrack feel and manages to bring some world influences to the mix.

Though it’s become a standard target for critical blasting, not all of modern country music is bad.

Keith Urban turned in a rousing performance at the Grammy awards, Emmylou Harris really can do no wrong, and the same can be said about Lucinda Williams and Eric Brace of Last Train Home. Maybe I’m stretching the boundaries of “country” to include Americana and the more rocking side of twang, but you get my drift. And, not so surprisingly, most of the really good stuff is traveling safely below the CMT/international superstardom radar.

By Chris Cooper

Approaching the “jam band” thing from some very different angles, Umphrey’s McGee manage to bring shades of vintage Yes, Peter Gabriel and Rush to the mix in lieu of the usual suspects (Grateful Dead, Phish, Allman Bros.) They also write some great tunes, possess formidable chops and still sound like they’re having fun.

Some jokes are really, really funny. Some even get better with age, as if their repeated telling somehow increases the comic potency. Then again, some jokes just get beaten into the ground, weren’t that funny to begin with, or suffer in the hands of incompetent would-be comedians.