In these days of overexposed celebutards, this is a wonderfully uplifting story. Greg Breinberg, a 36-year old music teacher at P.S. 22 in Staten Island, has taught his 5th grade chorus contemporary songs, many they don't even know. This vid made its way to Stevie Nicks, who cried when she first watched it and invited the group to perform it before Fleetwood Mac's sound check at MSG. Enjoy, DW

We Are What We Eat

food-incAmericans have become sick. Sick from the food that they eat; bad food, too much food, toxic food. We are being poisoned and bloated like the majority of the livestock and chickens that are overfed the same stuff -- corn -- and then sold to us to consume. It has become a vicious and despicable practice. And yet that's only one of the heinous crimes that Mr. Robert Kenner has exposed in his call-to-arms documentary FOOD, INC. There are many more being perpetrated on farmers and unsuspecting consumers everywhere. More to the point, our food has been hijacked by big business and we Americans need to take it back!

Africa Revisted

Just when you think you've seen it all, comes this extraordinary cover of the pop-rock band Toto's 1982 hit "Africa" by the Slovenian vocal (48 voices) band Perpetuum Jazzile. Before you start snickering, please take a few minutes to witness the majesty of human voices and hands. peace, Dusty

Burning Rings of Passion

ring-of-fire-poemsRing of Fire: Selected Poems 1972 - 2008 by Alessandra Gelmi (PublishAmerica) It was a very late night at The Roxy in Chelsea in the early '80s. Madonna was set to perform one of her first live gigs to tracks. Alessandra and I stumbled into each other. My first New York muse; gorgeous and intellectually intimidating. Had the pedigree. Poetry in motion. Disconnected for years, she recently sent me her first published collection of selected poems. I opened and read. My memories were reawakened. Rekindled many of those early carefree New York mornings. Through the looking glass time machine.

Graciously Wasted

grace-wastelandPeter Doherty: Grace/Wastelands (Astralwerks) Who knew that UK rocker Pete, er Peter Doherty would reach thirty and actually still be capable of vital and dynamic music? Few in the music press thought that he'd live so long. Or that the best album of his career would be his first solo CD -- part shaggy romantic on a displaced busker's holiday. I never bought into the over-hype of his first punked-out band The Libertines, but I saw the potential in Pete's songwriting.

Killer B'z!

Back before I started writing, I managed this righteous hip-hop group from Newark. We should have been contenders, but things got wonky. And so it went.... A few weeks ago one of the Carroll brothers sent me this Youtube link to the first song -- "Killer B'z" (12" single) -- I produced for them on my label Krossover Records. Check out the inspired vocals by the legendary Fred Schneider of The B-52s. Hilarious. Enjoy, Dusty

Are We Not Men? We Are Puppets!

For those of you who don't know me personally, I'll let you in a little secret. I'm an alumnus of the same high school as the baddest basketball player on the planet. The Chosen One! That's right. Me and 'Bron graduated from Akron St. Vincent - St. Mary High School. Albeit I did a few more decades before him. Remember the "Lil" Penny Hardaway commercials from a few years back? Well, Nike has done it again. We Are All Witness! GO CAVS!!!

Your Mother Should Know!

Is it just another holiday designed to make us buy Hallmark cards or truly a day to pay homage to our beloved mothers? I awoke this morning and thought of my mother in Akron, and my wife slumbering next to me, the mother of my two children. How do we pay homage to their sacrifices, their nurturing comfort? Shall we sing the body electric? I will. I will play them music. I will share the majesty of rock and the sway of some forgotten classic. I will play "Mother" by John Lennon as well as "Mother" by Pink Floyd. I will remind my children to not let the fact that a woman named Anne Jarvis created the holiday at the turn of the 20th century get in the way of the celebration. Or that she chose the second Sunday in May for this glorious occasion. So even if your mother is no longer with you, or if your memories of her may not be as favorable as mine, sing out and celebrate Mother Earth, the earth goddess. Plant a sapling or talk a walk in the park. Paint a picture or ride your bike. Skip in the lane or row a boat. Or simply, dance to the music. What's your favorite song with the word "mother" in it? Leave your comments below. peace, Dusty

Step Right Up...

lowside-waits-hoskinsLowside of the Road: A Life of Tom Waits

I get the feeling that Tom Waits, like Dylan, loves to fuck with people. Remain the enigma, speak cryptically, keep folks guessing, slippin' and slidin', juking right and left. Much has been made of their artistry, but few -- writers and journalists -- know how they really tick. And I like that. It's refreshing to know that some of our most endearing and enduring cultural icons remain outside of the public's scrutiny by refusing to air their dirty laundry on their blogs and websites, tell-all autobiographies, and police rap sheets.