My Favorite Music of 2010

Here are the discs that were most memorable for me in 2010. If you like this kind of music, please check out my house concert series, North Shore Point House Concerts, and get on the email list for 2011 shows.

Kevin Welch “A Patch of Blue Sky” (Music Road)

That Kevin Welch isn’t a household name is a crime for fans of finely wrought, soul-searching, and soul-touching songs. Welch has been writing for more than three decades and he’s a master songwriter, a son of Oklahoma (like Woody) who recently moved from Nashville to the hill country of Texas. “Blue Sky” is his first solo record in eight years (although he’s released a couple of must-have discs with buddies Kieran Kane and Fats Kaplin during that time). It’s ten songs framed by his rich, expressive voice (listen to him take that breath at just the right time on “Answer Me That”) and tasteful Americana instrumentation (hey, he’s credited with inventing the genre).

Every cut is a highlight from the opener, “Come a Rain,” a litany of simple character statements – “Jesus was a pagan, Woody was a punk” – on through the soulful, gospel sounding title track that’s both hopeful and defiant and blessed with soaring harmonies by the Trishas, which include his daughter, Savannah. Dustin, his son, lends a major hand, helping with the writing and playing guitar. Welch has never shied from the tough questions, the broken hearts and broken dreams. Welch’s heartfelt writing is only part of what makes “Blue Sky” so compelling. His voice has gotten better, more emotional, over the years. He may have been through some rough times, but he can see the clouds parting on [http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JOXPovb8Yew]”A Patch of Blue Sky:”

Peter Wolf “Midnight Souvenirs” (Verve).

If you only know Peter Wolf from the late-era J. Geils Band hits, then you’re missing something, maybe everything. On “Midnight Souvenirs,” his first solo disc in eight years, he’s the master of ceremonies for a house rockin’ night of R&B (real, soulful analog R&B). Just try to stay in your seat. Wolf, the night owl, leads you through a long night into day of hip-shaking, love making (and breaking), and soul depraving time. Wolf chooses his dance partners well.

A duet with Nashville bad girl Shelby Lynne on“Tragedy” is a perfect marriage. The cut opens the album and announces we’re going to party over the sadness.  A mid-album folk rock turn by Neko Case on the fiddle-driven “The Green Fields of Summer” provides a welcome breather. And Merle Haggard indulges Wolf’s twang inclinations with the closing “It’s Too Late for Me.” (Wolf started his career as a DJ and I wonder if “Green Fields” pays homage to the folk classic while “Watch Her Move,” a rollicking piece of R&B makes a nod to Johnny “Guitar” Watson’s “She Moves Me”).

Bruce Springsteen “The Promise: The Darkness on the Edge of Town Story” (Columbia).

The deluxe boxed set is a revelation in several ways. First, there’s the newly released material, two discs of buoyant pop rock that ranges from the smolder or “Fire” (yes, written for Elvis who died during these sessions) to the rocking “Because the Night” to the Buddy Holly beat of “Outside Looking In.” The songs are so filled with pop overdubs and instrumentation that they’re jarring at first in contrast to the beautifully remastered disc of “Darkness on the Edge of Town,” Springsteen’s best album. In the accompanying notebook, there’s a song list suggesting Springsteen was listening to Elvis, Buddy Holly, Percy Sledge, Phil Spector’s girl groups, and the Animals during this period and the songs show those influences, sometimes on their sleeves. In a way, they’re the missing link between “Darkness” and “Born in the USA.”

The DVDs are excellent, especially the documentary on the making of the album, the live show from Houston in 1978 and other goodies, notably a searing version of “Badlands” live from Phoenix, 1978. The reproduced notebook with revision after revision of lyrics and song choices is an enlightening glimpse into Springsteen’s work ethic. More than anything, the set shows Springsteen’s inner editor and discipline. “Darkness” would have been a weaker album with any of the discarded cuts, including “Because the Night,” even though they’re superb songs. In the documentary, Springsteen says “Because” would not have fit as a love song and he didn’t feel he had the perspective and time to judge whether it was a good song or not. That’s the kind of internal discipline and focus that makes an artist great.

Darrell Scott “A Crooked Road” (Full Light).

I’ve been a fan of Scott’s since his “Aloha from Nashville,” but “Crooked Road” may be a career best and that’s saying something for the guy who spent part of this year playing in Robert Plant’s Band of Joy (after touring with Steve Earle last year). This two-disc set turns deeply inward for a mid-life meditation on family, love, longing, and where he’s headed. It’s a mile wide and a mile deep with plenty to ponder even as you tap your toe along with Scott’s fluid melodies and voice, which can range from comforting to ragged and raw (notably on the bluesy “Where the Spirit Meets the Bone.”)

Scott plays every instrument and sings layers of vocals on every cut. And he doesn’t just contribute the strings he’s famous for, but cello, piano, organ, accordion, bass, drum, and percussion. the Dixie Chicks, Garth Brooks, Tim McGraw, Faith Hill and others have made his songs hits but it’s clear from “The Crooked Road” that the best interpreter of Darrell Scott tunes is Darrell Scott.

Tift Merritt “See You on the Moon” (Fantasy).

Tift Merritt’s latest meditation opens with “Mixtape,” a catchy pop song driven by hand claps and framed by strings about making a mixtape for a potential lover, the narrator seeing herself “like a rare B-side.” It’s utterly captivating and it’s also utterly unlike anything else on the album.

Few artists have made an many stylistic turns in as few albums at Merritt, who debuted as an alt country chanteuse on “Bramble Rose,” then moved into mainstream blue-eyed rock and soul on the Grammy-nominated “Tambourine” before the quiet “Another Country.” “See You on the Moon” is an often revelatory album that walks the line between the best of her last two efforts.”Engine to Turn” and the Byrdsy “Six More Days of Rain” reach the edge of the catchiness found on “Tambourine.” “Never Talk About It,” guided by a strummed acoustic guitar, and “All the Reasons We Don’t Have to Fight,” are spare, elegant, and beautiful. Merritt’s voice has grown quieter, more emotionally fragile over time. If “Tambourine” grabbed you and demanded attention, “Moon” sits back and beckons.

Tim O’Brien “Chicken & Egg” (Howdy Skies Records).

“Chicken & Egg” floats by so easily and tastefully, it’s tempting to underestimate the craft in Tim O’Brien’s playing and singing. Best known for his bluegrass playing in Hot Rize and other ensembles, O’Brien’s 13th album covers plenty of ground from the amusing title cut to remembrances of his mother and father, both of whom have died in recent years, to a serious hymn about sinners. “Not Afraid of Dyin’ ” is a moving collection of things O’Brien’s father said. The music meanders easily from swing to gentle rockabilly. There are well chosen covers and a typically hilarious “The Sun Jumped Up” with lyrics from Woody Guthrie set to O’Brien’s music.

Blue Rodeo “The Things We Left Behind” (TeleSoul)

It says something about Blue Rodeo’s Lower 48 profile that this fine double disc was released in their native Canada last November, but not in the States until a couple of months later. Why the group never rode the alt country wave of the 1990s that saw Wilco, The Jayhawks, Whiskeytown and others emerge isn’t clear. Blue Rodeo has sold millions of albums up north, won a ton of Juno awards and regularly sells out arenas. Not so much here and that’s a shame. Especially because after a couple of treading-water releases, the band is back in excellent form this time out, moving easily from rockers to ballads to a couple of stretched-out jams on an ambitious double disc that clocks in at 80 minutes (two easily digestible albums).

Greg Keelor and Jim Cuddy, the songwriters and co-lead singers, have been penning great tunes for nearly 30 years. On The Things We Left Behind” there’s a sampling of roots styles here, from rockers to ballads and they all work. They explore influences ranging from The Beatles  — several cuts feature “Abbey Road”-era harmonies and guitar work — to the early Eagles/California sound of “Arizona Dust” to rockers like “Never Look Back” and “Candice,” which opens with a piano riff that instantly brings The Band to mind. In fact, it’s not a stretch to say these guys are direct descendants of The Band. Their writing has been consistently superb over a long period and now, as they look back on a life lived, it’s grown only deeper. “It’s such a small place you came from; it’s so far the other way that you’ve gone,” they sing on “Million Miles.”    Along with “Diamond Mine,” “Five Days in July” and “Lost Together,” “The Things We Left Behind” is essential, a return to form that shows the band still has plenty left.

Graham Parker “Imaginary Television” (Bloodshot).

The conceit behind this album, if you believe the press release (and I don’t), is that Graham Parker was asked to create a theme song for a television show. His offering was summarily rejected and that sent him off penning an album of tunes for non-existent shows, shows he’s outlined in the liner notes. To me, that sounds like the wiseass Parker just having one more laugh. The premises are amusing. Parker claims “Weather Report,” the disc’s rocking opener, is about a television series centered on an agoraphobic who’s obsessed with the Weather Channel. But his lyrics portray a man on the outside trying to figure it all out.

Whatever the motivation and creative juice, “Imaginary Television” is one damn fine, if often mellow, rock and roll record with Parker’s typically sneering wit looking at life after mid-life. Close listens — and this disc only gets better with each listen — reveals “Imaginary Television” is a song cycle about a man taking stock of who he is and where he fits as an artist, pamphleteer, and a husband and father. “I don’t feel comfortable inside my own skin,” he sings. “It doesn’t keep things in.”

Kim Richey “Wreck Your Wheels” (Thirty Tigers).

Kim Richey burst onto the scene 15 years ago as the next big thing in country music. But country music abandoned her (and country music) for arena rock retreads and, on her last few albums, Richey has abandoned country music, even alt country, for a quirky, introspective pop style the defies boundaries. Just listen to the opening title cut,  a slow-burning lament.

Richey spends a lot of time in London these days and “Wreck Your Wheels” has a post-Beatles feel to the instrumentation, which is colored at times by cello, flugelhorn, glockenwhatsit, and vibes. Recorded in Nashville with the band in one room, there is a compelling intimacy throughout. Her voice may be more beautiful and quietly captivating than ever, variously sexy and wise. The songs confront romantic heartache, a longtime Richey staple, but also explore maturity. All are co-writes with some of Nashville’s best, including Will Kimbrough, Mark Olson, Pat McLaughlin and Britain’s Boo Hewerdine. (Pay attention to the video. That’s my kids with the word “wouldn’t” at the 1:32 mark).

Megan McCormick “Honest Words” (Ryko).

Megan McCormick’s debut album opens with one of the best guitar riffs of the year, a brooding intro to the rockhouse raw”Shiver,” a tune Stevie Ray Vaughan would have been proud to play. McCormick,  a 24-year-old Nashville songwriter who grew up in Idaho and Alaska and studied bluegrass in college, has made a good, old fashioned electic rock record with touches of juke joint rock blues, k.d. lang’s atmosphere, and Bonnie Raitt’s heartfelt rock. Why it went largely unnoticed is baffling.

“Gonna sell my soul to the rock and roll” she sings on “Do Right,” a loping rock cut that, like so much of the album, insinuates itself effortlessly so you’re unconsciously tapping along. “Addiction” barrels along like a cut from an early Heart album. But there are also beautifully introspective numbers like “Wreck” and “Lonely Tonight,” a lush torch song. Throughout, McCormick’s guitar playing, rich and deep, highlights tune after tune. There’s nothing “alt” about McCormick’s disc, which may explain the lack of attention. But it’s a superb, promising debut.

Eric Brace and Peter Cooper “Master Sessions” (Red Beet Records).

“Master Sessions” is testimony to the magic that happens when you put two up and coming singer/songwriters and a small group of brilliant Nashville players and hit record. Brace, the creative force behind Last Train Home, and Cooper, an emerging solo artist, combine for more than the sum of their past.  The harmonies are unforgettable, classic, and touching. The covers are perfect from the opening version of a Seldom Scene favorite to Tom T. Hall’s “I Flew Over Our House Last Night.” The originals, including Cooper’s co-write with Don Schlitz (“The Gambler”) and the duo’s “Circus” fit with the classics. And the side players — the boys’ heroes — Lloyd Green (the Byrds, numerous others) on pedal steel and Mike Auldridge (Seldom Scene) on dobro. Nashville veterans Pat McInerney, Dave Roe (Johnny Cash) and Jen Gunderman (Jayhawks) help make this one of the irresistible surprises of the year.

Justin Townes Earle “Harlem River Blues” (Bloodshot).

This album is so unpretentious yet so sweeping in its view of America and its musical touchstones. From workers on the MTA to lovers on the wane, from Harlem to the mines of West Virginia, from The Replacements to rockabilly, from Woody folk to slow-burning soul, this disc shows the breadth of Earle’s interests. Earle seems to have taken all he’s digested and the experience of his previous albums and distilled it into this gem. And it needs to be said: “Workin’ for the MTA” is an instant classic.

His recent move to New York has only widened his wandering eye. Earle has a keen sense of character and a willingness to step out from under his famous father’s shadow. If he can keep the demons at bay, he has the potential to become the next great chronicler of the American experience.

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Summer Albums, Part 2, (the guys)

It’s past the half way point of 2010 so it’s about time I review four of my favorite albums of the past six months. Some were released recently, some in the spring. They’re all good for summer listening.

Kevin Welch “A Patch of Blue Sky” (Music Road)

That Kevin Welch isn’t a household name is a crime for fans of finely wrought, soul-searching, and soul-touching songs. Welch has been writing for more than three decades and he’s a master songwriter, a son of Oklahoma (like Woody) who recently moved from Nashville to the hill country of Texas. “Blue Sky” is his first solo record in eight years (although he’s released a couple of must-have discs with buddies Kieran Kane and Fats Kaplin during that time) and it’s one of the year’s best, ten songs framed by his rich, expressive voice (listen to him take that breath at just the right time on “Answer Me That”) and tasteful Americana instrumentation (hey, he’s credited with inventing the genre).

Every cut is a highlight from the opener, “Come a Rain,” a litany of simple character statements – “Jesus was a pagan, Woody was a punk” – on through the soulful, gospel sounding title track that’s both hopeful and defiant and blessed with soaring harmonies by the Trishas, which include his daughter, Savannah. Dustin, his son, lends a major hand, helping with the writing and playing guitar. He prodded his father into finishing a poem, “A New Widow,” which is one of the album’s highlights. Welch has never shied from the tough questions, the broken hearts and broken dreams. On “Answer Me That,” he writes:

If love is the answer, what is the question
I still can’t get it right somehow
Where does it come from
What could it become
How can I find some right now
Answer me that

“Long Gone Dream” pines for a lost love. “Marysville” is about a town blown away by the fires of heaven. “The Andaman Sea,” perhaps the disc’s most beautiful cut thanks to Brian Standefer’s cello playing, looks out on that Thai sea and back on a relationship. On “The Great Emancipation,” he notes “blood runs deep, souls run deeper.” Welch’s heartfelt writing is only part of what makes “Blue Sky” so compelling. His voice has gotten better, more emotional, over the years. He may have been through some rough times, but he can see the clouds parting on “A Patch of Blue Sky:”

This is gonna pass me by
That’s all I know
Honey this ain’t my
First rodeo
Been a month of Sundays
Since you said goodbye
All I’m waitin’ on now
Is a patch of blue sky

Peter Wolf “MIdnight Souvenirs” (Verve).

If you only know Peter Wolf from the late-era J. Geils Band hits, then you’re missing something, maybe everything. On “Midnight Souvenirs,” his first solo disc in eight years, he’s the master of ceremonies for a house rockin’ night of R&B (real, soulful analog R&B). Just try to stay in your seat. Wolf, the night owl, leads you through a long night into day of hip-shaking, love making (and breaking), and soul depraving time. Sit back and let Wolf spin you a tale on the mostly spoken word yucks of “Overnight Lows.”

The guy has great taste and it shows although “Midnight” isn’t just an R&B homage. There’s plenty of cutting licks by guests Duke Levine (Mary Chapin Carpenter, Otis Rush) and Larry Campbell (Dylan, others). Sax and strings enter at just the right time on cuts like “The Night Comes Down” and “The Green Fields of Summer.” The lyrics are confessional, descriptive, and occasionally funny.

Wolf chooses his dance partners well. A duet with Nashville bad girl Shelby Lynne on “Tragedy” is a perfect marriage. The cut opens the album and announces we’re going to party over the sadness. Wolf pleads, but Lynne, as soulful as ever, is defiant; she’s not coming back. Cue the horns, guitars that would make Steve Cropper proud, and the late B-3 entry. A mid-album folk rock turn by Neko Case on the fiddle-driven “The Green Fields of Summer” provides a welcome breather. And Merle Haggard indulges Wolf’s twang inclinations with the closing “It’s Too Late for Me.” (Wolf started his career as a DJ and I wonder if “Green Fields” pays homage to the folk classic while “Watch Her Move,” a rollicking piece of R&B makes a nod to Johnny “Guitar” Watson’s “She Moves Me”).

Wolf touches down on blues, gospel, country (listen Kris Delmhorst’s backing vocals and Campbell’s sighing guitar on “Then It Leaves Us All Behind)”, and rock. But everything moves you, including the lone cover of Allen Toussaint’s “Everything I Do (Gonna be Funky).”. This is one to put on repeat and play all night long.

Blue Rodeo “The Things We Left Behind” (TeleSoul)

It says something aboutBlue Rodeo’s Lower 48 profile that this fine double disc was released in their native Canada last November, but not in the States until a couple of months later. Why the group never rode the alt country wave of the 1990s that saw Wilco, The Jayhawks, Whiskeytown and others emerge isn’t clear. Blue Rodeo has sold millions of albums up north, won a ton of Juno awards and regularly sells out arenas. Not so much here and that’s a shame. Especially because after a couple of treading-water releases, the band is back in excellent form this time out, moving easily from rockers to ballads to a couple of stretched-out jams on an ambitious double disc that clocks in at 80 minutes (two easily digestible albums).

Greg Keelor and Jim Cuddy, the songwriters and co-lead singers, have been penning great tunes for nearly 30 years. On “The Things We Left Behind” they trade lead vocals from song to song with each disc coming in at about 40 minutes. There’s a sampling of roots styles here, from rockers to ballads and they all work. They explore influences ranging from The Beatles — several cuts feature “Abbey Road”-era harmonies and guitar work — to the early Eagles/California sound of “Arizona Dust” to rockers like “Never Look Back” and “Candice,” which opens with a piano riff that instantly brings The Band to mind.

In fact, it’s not a stretch to say these guys are direct descendants of The Band. Their writing has been consistently superb over a long period and now, as they look back on a life lived, it’s grown only deeper. “It’s such a small place you came from; it’s so far the other way that you’ve gone,” they sing on “Million Miles.”

“We thought we had two records, one that could be like a ‘daytime’ record, and one that could be ‘night time’ with more moody pieces on it, or would be a bit more jammy. By the time we laid the songs out it seemed that idea would do a disservice to them, so we finally had to commit to doing a double record, with each disc being the traditional length of an album, 40 or 45 minutes,” Cuddy said of the album. “While we were at the point of deciding all of this, Thom Yorke made his big pronouncement that the album was dead, albums are boring, we’ll never participate in that again, and we’ll only be doing singles. That made us think there couldn’t be a better time then to make a double album. If Thom Yorke said that, then we’ve gotta do the opposite.”

Along with “Diamond Mine,” “Five Days in July” and “Lost Together,” “The Things We Left Behind” is essential, a return to form that shows the band still has plenty left.

Graham Parker “Imaginary Television” (Bloodshot).

The conceit behind this album, if you believe the press release (and I don’t), is that Graham Parker was asked to create a theme song for a television show. His offering was summarily rejected and that sent him off penning an album of tunes for non-existent shows, shows he’s outlined in the liner notes. To me, that sounds like the wise ass Parker just having one more laugh. The premises are amusing. Parker claims “Weather Report,” the disc’s rocking opener, is about a television series centered on an agoraphobic who’s obsessed with the Weather Channel. But his lyrics portray a man on the outside trying to figure it all out.

“Hey, can you tell me where everybody’s going to,” he sings on “Weather Report.” “They’re out there on the street. They must be elite. They got shoes I can’t afford on their quick fast feet. They have modified irises behind opaque lenses. They’re hiding equipment behind barbed wire fences. They’ve got this high end electronic stuff I wouldn’t know how to work…I’m sitting there on my couch, my enthusiasm sinking. Don’t know where everybody’s going; don’t know what they’re thinking. There seems to be some secret everybody’s on to, but I just don’t seem to get it, man, not even if I want to.”

Whatever the motivation and creative juice, “Imaginary Television” is one damn fine, if often mellow, rock and roll record with Parker’s typically sneering wit looking at life after mid-life. The arrangements are simple, emphasizing Parker’s words and melodies. And while the tone strikes you at first as light, there’s a dark underbelly. What else would you expect?

Close listens — and this disc only gets better with each listen — reveals “Imaginary Television” is a song cycle about a man taking stock of who he is and where he fits as an artist, pamphleteer (read Parker’s fiction and blogs for grins as well as The Graham Parker Show) and a husband and father. Just listen to him: “I don’t feel comfortable inside my own skin,” he sings. “It doesn’t keep things in.”

Over the loping reggae beat of “See Things My Way,” he acknowledges “There is more than one of me” before assuring his wife that “I’ll be there for you and you know that’s true. I just can’t guarantee which one of me that will be so see things my way.”

On the sardonic “Bring Me a Heart Again,” he sings, “I got some courage and I got a brain, straw man though I may be. But long ago I felt my empathy wane. Bring me a heart again. ”

On “Always Greener,” he tells the tale of a man with “something lacking in his life, but he can’t define it. Three kids, two cars, a house, a wife. I guess that defines me. The grass is always greener. On “It’s My Party (But I Won’t Cry,” a riff on the Lesley Gore song, he is again on the outs, left only “chocolate and warm beer. ”
Even the lone cover of Johnny Nash’s “More Questions Than Answers” fits: “The more I find out, the less I know” is the key line.

Throughout the melodies are simple and catchy and, as always, Parker dips into a variety of genres to color his works.

Behind every wise guy, of course, is a sentimentalist. And Parker closes with a pledge to his son on “1st Responder.” “I’ll turn up in a hybrid or a Hummer or a Honda,” he promises. ” I’ll be your first responder. A wicked Maserati, a Kia or Hyunda. I’ll be your first responder.”

Parker made a lot of noise in the ’70s and ’80s, but never made the breakthrough. Fortunately, that hasn’t stopped him from continuing to put pen to paper, even as his subjects and his perspective changes.

The November Play List


“Lucky Break” by Hank Dogs from “Bareback”
“The Dozens,” “Caroline Herring, “Golden Apples of the Sun.”
“These Sunday Nights, “Greg Trooper, “The Williamsburg Affair.”
“The Story I Heard,” Blind Pilot, “3 Rounds & A Sound”
The Guitar,” “Guy Clark, “Somedays the Song Writes You.”
“Decimate,” David Ford, “Songs For the Road.”
“Homecoming (Walter’s Song),” Vienna Teng, “Warm Strangers.”
“It Makes Me Wonder,” Blue Rodeo, “Small Miracles.”
“The Man Behind the Drums,” Robert Earl Keen, “The Rose Hotel.”
“You Can Be the Rain,” Randall Bramblett, “Thin Places.”
“True Colors,” Caroline Herring, “Golden Apples of the Sun.”
“Mississippi River Runnin’ Backwards, Tom Russell, “Blood and Candle Smoke.”
“Kingdom of Days,” Bruce Springsteen, “Working on a Dream.”
“Can’t Hardly Wait,” Justin Townes Earle, “Midnight at the Movies.”
“Stuck in the Middle,” Nitty Gritty Dirt Band, “Speed of Life.”
“Tales of the Islander,” Caroline Herring, “Golden Apples of the Sun.”
“Beautiful Road,” Kate Taylor, “Beautiful Road.”
“Dance Me To The End of Love (Live),” Leonard Cohen, “Essential.”
“Widescreen World,” Peter Holsapple & Chris Stamey, “Here And Now.”
“I Don’t Want A Lover,” Texas, “Southside.”
“French Navy,” Camera Obscura, “My Maudlin Career.”
“Heavy Weather Traffic,” Katydids, “Katydids.”
“Turn On A Dream,” Box Tops, “Ultimate Box Tops.”
“O My Soul,” Big Star, “Big Star – #1 Record.”
“All I Want (Is Everything,” Boo Hewerdine and Darden Smith, “Evidence.”
“The Wolves (Act 1 & 2),” Bon Iver, “For Emma, Forever Ago.”
“The Kid From Spavinaw,” Tom Russell, “Modern Art.”
“Something That I Do,” Robert Earl Keen, “The Rose Hotel.”
“Sometimes I Dream of Willie Mays,” The Baseball Project, “Vol. 1: Frozen Ropes and Dying Quails.”
“December Skies,” Greg Trooper, “Floating.”
“Going Up The Country,” Nitty Gritty Dirt Band, “Speed of Life.”
“Standing Still,” Jeff Black, “Mining.”

Caroline Herring’s “Tales of the Islander.”