I recently watched every episode of Breaking Bad in under two weeks. Last September, I consumed all five seasons of The Wire in about three-and-a-half weeks. Eastbound & Down clocked in at a little over four or five days (I was busy). In 2010, I re-watched The X-Files – all 202 episodes – from September to December. A year before that, however, I consumed all four seasons of Lost in about five weeks flat. I’m not proud of myself.

Television is about escape and the loss of reality. You plug in, you lose yourself, and your troubles take a backseat. There’s nothing to think about, save for what’s on-screen. You connect with a character, maybe two, entwine yourself in their predicaments, solve their problems, rationalize their emotions, and feel their tension. You might gasp, you might sweat, you might scoff, you might laugh. It’s everything you can do with your own life, but there’s an on-off button, and you find yourself flicking it up and down ad-infinitum.

That is, if you’re anything like me.

In retrospect, I guess I should feel ashamed at how much television I consume. I’d like to think it’s all “good stuff,” that I’m attending a larger, more introspective sect of my culture, but what it boils down to is me staring long and hard at a light bulb for hours on end. Once the proverbial curtain drops, I’m only left with an archive of stories – ensuing, concluded, or discontinued – and for what?

That’s what I’ve been thinking about lately, and I think I have an answer. It has to do with Jackson Browne, slightly to do with  Truman Burbank and, to a greater extent, Cameron Crowe. The former and the latter have plenty in common (see: 1982′s Fast Times at Ridgemont High),while Mr. Burbank will take some finagling to bridge in. Shall we?

[Post-It #1: If you've stumbled upon this column, here's the quick gist: I listen to a shower radio every time I feel the need to clean my body, and it's in those intimate, highly relaxing moments that my pop culture-shattered mind can put some sensible pieces together. What happens is that I'll hear a track, and my mind goes for a little trip. It's fun.]

I’ve always loved “Somebody’s Baby”. Always. It’s one of my favorite classic hits from the ’80s, and I’m still convinced it’s Jackson Browne’s greatest track to date. It’s pure pop, it’s hardly rock ‘n’ roll, it’s emotionally sappy, but so what. To me, it’s always defined that feeling of youthful ignorance, the foolish ideas we sometimes buy, like how “everything’s gonna be okay” or “love conquers all.” I’m normally a very cynical individual, but in the song’s four minutes and 16 seconds, I’m a human Hallmark card.

Speaking of holidays, a couple of days prior to Hannukah, I had just finished wrapping up gifts, one of which I was particularly fond of, a silver and ruby-encrusted, heart-shaped necklace for my girlfriend. Now, I’m not one to buy into the whole holiday spirit mumbo-jumbo business; never have, never will. However, I was feeling particularly “jovial,” and I found myself getting ramped up for the festivities to come. With all the holiday preparations complete, I hopped in the shower and turned on my shower radio only to hear – yep –  Jackson Browne’s “Somebody’s Baby”.

How cinematic, I thought. The past 20 minutes felt like nothing more than a montage, and a hokey one at that too. I folded laundry, I wrapped gifts, I stowed them away, and I signed all of the Christmas cards to send out; in fact, the only thing missing was Jimmy Stewart. That song, however, was too fucking perfect. Granted, the whole thing can be construed as a stalker anthem, much like The Police’s “Every Breath You Take”, but its mood and poppy decadence closely aligned itself with my gooey, holiday-tinged feelings.

It greased my mind some. I asked myself, Well, if I had to choose, what song would I have used to soundtrack that moment? I didn’t really answer that; instead, I thought of that question as a whole. It made me think back to the dozens of times I’d turned to music to “soundtrack” a particular event. Like when I put The Replacements’ “Sixteen Blue” on repeat after being too chickenshit to break up with a past fling in person. Or, when I witnessed a close friend of mine going home with the girl I gave my heart to, oh I just had to take a cab home then, so I could be in privacy as I listened to Morrissey sing me his lullabies. Ha, how about all those train rides to and from work, listening to David Byrne speak of “Houses in Motion“? These aren’t coincidences, they’re choices or preferences I’ve consciously made in these moments. It’s as if some innate part of me needs that soundtrack, as if life is some sort of movie

That is a picture of Truman Burbank. If you’ve seen Peter Weir’s 1998 film, The Truman Show, you know it’s basically about Truman (Jim Carrey) whose real life is a television show that millions of people across the world watch, and there’s a lot of ambient, foreboding music by Philip Glass, and Laura Linney is ultimately creepy in it, and Paul Giamatti outperforms Ed Harris. Well, believe it or not, there’s an actual syndrome based on that movie now, and it’s aptly called The Truman Show delusion. According to Wikipedia, it’s “a type of persecutory/grandiose delusion in which patients believe their lives are staged plays or reality television shows.”

So it’s not officially recognized per se, but there are some discussions amongst psychiatrists who mostly agree it’s an extension of persecutory and grandiose delusions. It’s not too far-fetched, especially in a world consumed by handheld camcorders, endless social networking feeds, and the continuous influx of reality television programming. Look, I know there aren’t any secret cameras and that I’m not part of a bigger picture scheme (a la South Park’s Earth. I actually don’t think I’m too delusional at all. I just personally feel life is more interesting when it’s taken into that sort of perspective. To quote Daimon, “When the music of a state changes, the constitution will change, too.” It’s the classic life imitating art imitating life thingy majig

This way of thinking probably explains why I spend minutes cycling through my iPod searching for that key song to score that perfect moment. Sometimes it’s aggravating, especially if the moment’s passed. Then I’m just walking around somewhat confused, trying to decide how I’m currently feeling, and how music might be able to amplify those feelings. Sometimes, and here’s where you’ll reach for the phone, I actually replay tracks previously used in movies, almost as if I need to revisit feelings and emotions that didn’t happen to me. For example: Every time I leave Miami at night, I’m quick to blast Phil Collins’ “In the Air Tonight” and just stare quietly at the road ahead, brooding like a moron. I’m not proud of myself for that, either.

Okay, I admit that’s delusional.

You know who’s a big fan of this style of thinking, or at least I think he is? Cameron Crowe. You can’t watch one film of his without remembering at least one song from the soundtrack. Quick replay, totally off the top of my head:

-Fast Times at Ridgemont High: Tom Petty’s “American Girl”
-Say Anything: Peter Gabriel’s “In Your Eyes”
-Singles: Pearl Jam’s “State of Love and Trust”
-Jerry Maguire: Bruce Springsteen’s “Secret Garden” OR Tom Petty’s “Free Fallin”
-Almost Famous: Elton John’s “Tiny Dancer”
-Vanilla Sky: Sigur Rós’ “Untitled 4″
-Elizabethtown: Kirsten Dunst… Kirsten Dunst… Kirst–
-We Bought a Zoo: Jónsi, for two hours.

Admittedly, I’m a big fan of his work, but I don’t think these memories are solely those of a die-hard Crowe fan, with the exception of Singles or Vanilla Sky. I’d like to believe these songs are wired to the films because they truly elevate each scene emotionally and the music itself tends to sensationalize average human feelings. This isn’t anything new; in fact, this concept of melodrama dates back to the 18th and 19th centuries, when plays were accompanied by music to orchestrate the tension or feelings put in action. Hell, it’s likely Lincoln’s assassination took place amidst such a marriage – he was, after all, watching the melodrama Our American Cousin. Chew on that for a second.

[Post-It #2: I've had an unnerving fear of Lincoln since my youth. I used to think he haunted my room and from time to time I would have lucid dreams of him staring at me from the edge of my bed. No, I've never visited the Lincoln Memorial because of this, and yet oddly enough, he's one of my favorite presidents in American history. I mentioned I'm not insane, right?]

In what’s arguably Crowe’s most iconic scene to date – Lloyd Dobbler standing outside Diane Court’s house with a boombox blasting “In Your Eyes” towards the climax of Say Anything - John Cusack can only do so much with his deadpan mug. Rather, it’s that goddamn Peter Gabriel song and that goddamn synth line that stresses those shattered feelings and how he truly feels inside. So, why can’t life be like that sometimes?

Several years later, Crowe directed his major breakthrough film Jerry Maguire, and there’s a scene (amongst many) that has stuck with me for over a decade. We follow the down-in-the-ditches sports agent (Tom Cruise) to one of his client’s houses, where he shakes on a big deal that could save his career, and there’s this great moment where he’s in the car driving back singing along to the radio. The problem is that he can’t find the right song to truly express that feeling. It’s sort of meta, come to think of it, the way Crowe pokes fun at his own formula. Finally, he comes across Tom Petty’s “Free Falling”, and he joyfully screams along to the chorus, letting it all out as he races down the sunny country road. It’s a moment to relish, but it’s a scene that, I feel, explains my obsessive connections to pop culture. To me, life won’t ever be as interesting as the programs I escape into, but it’s those little moments paired with music that make me think, Hey, what if…

…and I’ll never answer that question in full.

This year marks the 100th birthday of folk singer-songwriter icon Woody Guthrie, and a multitude of artists have been honoring the late musician’s legacy. Last weekend, the This Land Is Your Land tribute concert went down in Tulsa, OK. Oklahoma natives The Flaming Lips were part of the festivities, reinterpreting Guthrie songs on their new favorite instruments: iPads. Jackson Browne joined in, lending his guitar and voice to “Along in the Sun and the Rain”. Thanks to Psych Explorations of the Future Heart, you can watch the performance, including an iPad rendition of Oklahoma state song “Do You Realize??”, below.

Update: Thanks again to Psych Explorations of the Future Heart, here’s the rest of the performance: The Flaming Lips playing “Vigilante Man” on iPads.

The iconic Newport Folk Festival returns July 28-29th at Fort Adams State Park in Newport, Rhode Island. This year’s bill is topped by My Morning Jacket and Jackson Browne, and they’ll be joined by Conor Oberst, Iron & Wine, Arlo Guthrie, The Tallest Man on Earth, tUnE-yArDs, The Head and the Heart, Tom Morello, Deer Tick, Dawes, Sharon Van Etten, and New Multitudes, which features My Morning Jacket’s Yim Yames, Son Volt’s Jay Farrar, Centro-matic’s Will Johnson, and Varnaline’s Anders Parker.

Also playing are Alabama Shakes, First Aid Kit, Gary Clark, Jr., Trampled By Turtles, City & Colour, Punch Brothers, Preservation Hall Jazz Band, Patty Griffin, Robert Ellis, Charles Bradley & His Extraordinaires, Of Monsters and Men, Sara Watkins, Deep Dark Woods, Carl Broemel, and Brown Bird.

Two-day passes are now available via the festival’s website.

Feature Artwork by Cap Blackard 

While Annie Clark has earned a lot of well-deserved acclaim as a songwriter and guitarist, she’s also a brilliant reinterpreter of other artists’ songs. From Big Black and INXS to Tom Waits and Dolly Parton, Clark has put her own distinct brand on everything from classic tracks to beloved obscurities since she burst onto the indie rock scene five years ago.

To hold us over until the release of the new St. Vincent record, Strange Mercy, here are several of Clark’s best cover songs from over the years.

The Beatles – “Dig a Pony”

What: The Beatles’ “Dig a Pony”, from 1970′s Let It Be

When: Regularly while touring behind Marry Me and Actor. This version is from her performance at All Points West in Jersey City, New Jersey, on August 1st, 2009.

As far as St. Vincent cover songs go, this is where it all begins. Clark’s version of one of the best tracks from The Beatles’ final album was a staple of her setlist as early as 2007, and she’s offered up several different variations of her own rendition over the years. In most, Clark takes advantage of her own guitar chops and rockabilly-s up the main riff, muting her chords while singing John Lennon’s mostly nonsensical lyrics. She utilizes the breaks between verses to issue some real noise from her guitar, which makes the sudden transitions to her soft voice that much sweeter.

Big Black – “Bad Penny” and “Kerosene”

What: Big Black’s “Bad Penny” and “Kerosene”, from 1987′s Songs About Fucking and 1986′s Atomizer

When: At the Our Band Could Be Your Life 10^th Anniversary Show at New York’s Bowery Ballroom on May 22nd, 2011

On a night that included Ted Leo performing as Minor Threat, Dan Deacon as the Butthole Surfers, and Tune-Yards as Sonic Youth, author Michael Azzerrad’s greatest display of curatorial prowess was in selecting the doe-faced Annie Clark to play the harsh, intentionally ugly noise rock of Steve Albini’s Big Black. Clark doesn’t back down in the least, taking the songs as an opportunity to spit, scream, and downright shred her guitar in tribute to Big Black’s buzz saw assault. When the lyrics to “Bad Penny” come from Clark’s lips, they seem every bit as threatening as Albini intended them to be. This one’s stunning.

Nico – “These Days”

What: Nico’s “These Days”, from 1967′s Chelsea Girl

Where: On tour as early as 2007. This version is live in Phoenix, Arizona, on February 11th, 2010.

Like “Dig a Pony”, Clark’s cover of the Jackson Browne-penned song “These Days” has long been part of her live repertoire and was even included as a bonus track on the Japanese release of Marry Me. The St. Vincent version is a pretty, acoustic rendition featuring excellent fingerpicking work that falls somewhere between Nico’s softly sung version and Gregg Allman’s more countrified approach.

Tom Waits – “Big Black Mariah” and “Tango Til They’re Sore”

What: Tom Waits’ “Big Black Mariah” and “Tango Til They’re Sore”, from 1985′s Rain Dogs

When: During the Rain Dogs Revisited show in London, England, on July 13th, 2011.

Last July, an assortment of musicians gathered at London’s Barbican to cover Tom Waits’ classic 1985 album, Rain Dogs. Clark was on hand to give her take on Waits’ “Big Black Mariah” and “Tango Til They’re Sore”. For the former, Clark cranks up the already-pounding percussion present in Waits’ original and smothers the song in dissonant guitar noise and orchestral squeals, her voice alternating between shouted growls and hushed whispers. Clark hits all the right marks in the song but makes it distinctly her own; it’s a cover of which I feel Waits might even approve.

Clark’s cover of “Tango Til They’re Sore” sticks closer to the source material, dropping the jazzy piano in favor of stop-stutter guitar work and muted trumpet wails. The star of the song is Clark’s voice, which really gets a chance to belt out several of the lyrics here. With all of the praise that’s heaped upon her for her guitar playing, it’s sometimes possible to forget that she’s also a great singer.

The Magnetic Fields – “Yeah! Oh, Yeah!” (with John Vanderslice)

What: The Magnetic Fields’ “Yeah! Oh, Yeah!”, from 1999′s 69 Love Songs

When: On tour with John Vanderslice in 2007. This version is from the last stop of the tour on May 10th, 2007, in Los Angeles, California.

Annie Clark and John Vanderslice’s take on this 69 Love Songs track is actually softer and less noisy than The Magnetic Fields’ original version. Trading off verses, Clark and Vanderslice give a heartfelt rendition with only minimal acoustic accompaniment.

Bob Dylan – “Oh Sister” (with Andrew Bird)

What: Bob Dylan’s “Oh Sister”, from 1976′s Desire

When: Regularly during encores when touring with Andrew Bird in 2009. This version is from the Columbus, Ohio, date of the tour on October 19th, 2009.

For their duet, Annie Clark takes the role that had been filled by Emmylou Harris on Dylan’s original recording. Here, the harmonica fills have been replaced by whistling, making the song a step more upbeat, with additional instrumentation coming in as the song moves along.

INXS – “Need You Tonight” and “Never Tear Us Apart” (with Beck)

What: INXS’s “Need You Tonight” and “Never Tear Us Apart”, from 1987′s Kick

When: On March 3rd, 2010, at Beck’s house.

On March 3^rd, 2010, a group of musicians including Annie Clark gathered at Beck’s home studio to lay down the fourth installment of his Record Club project: a full-album cover of INXS’s Kick. Other musicians included were Angus Andrew, Aaron Hemphill and Julian Gross of Liars, Sergio Dias of Os Mutantes, and Brian LeBarton and Daniel Hart of St. Vincent. Video of the jam session was later released in installments on Beck’s website.

Annie Clark takes the lead vocals on “Need You Tonight”, which has the clear touch of Beck’s techier work, with electronic beeps and drum machine beats leading the instrumentation. This version of “Never Tear Us Apart” could almost pass as a cut from St. Vincent’s own Actor, with Clark singing over lush strings and light piano playing, giving it a very orchestral feel. It’s really astounding that this arrangement came together in less than a day.

Readers with any interest should definitely check out the full session on Beck’s Record Club website; Annie Clark’s role isn’t as center stage on the rest of the album, but their take on tracks like “Kick” and “Sensation” are rather brilliant.

Neil Young – “Harvest Moon” (with Bon Iver)

What: Neil Young’s “Harvest Moon”, from 1992′s Harvest Moon

When: Bowery Presents and Brooklyn Vegan’s A Night of Comedy and Music to Benefit Haiti at the Music Hall of Williamsburg, Brooklyn, New York, on January 23rd, 2010. (See also: the Dolly Parton cover below.)

Annie Clark and Justin Vernon divide up the lyrics to the title track from Neil Young’s pseudo-sequel to Harvest. Vernon pulls off a rather close Young impression with his part, while Clark channels her inner Loretta Lynn on her verses.

Dolly Parton – “Jolene” (with Bon Iver)

What: Dolly Parton’s “Jolene”, from 1974′s Jolene

When: Bowery Presents and Brooklyn Vegan’s A Night of Comedy and Music to Benefit Haiti at the Music Hall of Williamsburg, Brooklyn, New York, on January 23rd, 2010. (This is the same show as the Neil Young cover above.)

Dolly Parton’s tale of a housewife confronting her husband’s mistress was covered by Annie Clark and Justin Vernon at a Haiti benefit in 2010. It’s a song that’s been redone almost as many times as Leonard Cohen’s “Hallelujah”, but the pair put their own individual stamps on the song by taking turns with the verses on this darkened version.

The National – “Mistaken for Strangers” (with members of The National)

What: The National’s “Mistaken for Strangers”, from 2007′s Boxer

When: On tour in 2010. This version is from the July 13th, 2010, show in Lyon, France, with The National.

Solo versions exist of Clark’s cover of “Mistaken for Strangers”, as well as cuts where she performs the song with members of The National. This particular rendition falls into the latter category and features Annie Clark singing a duet with Matt Berninger. The cover is not far off base from the original at all, but the results are quite beautiful.

Crooked Fingers – “Sleep All Summer” (with The National)

What: Crooked Fingers’ “Sleep All Summer”, from 2005′s Dignity and Shame

When: On SCORE! 20 Years of Merge Records: The Covers, released in 2009

To celebrate their 20^th anniversary, Merge curated a collection of music that featured contemporary artists covering classic songs from the Merge catalog. Annie Clark and The National’s Matt Berninger teamed up again to record Crooked Fingers’ heartbreaking “Sleep All Summer”, taking a soft approach backed by a beautiful horn accompaniment.

Copies of SCORE! are still available from Merge, and proceeds from the compilation benefit select charities.

With such a massive, sweeping influence on the genesis of rock and roll, it’s no surprise that Buddy Holly would be honored with the all-star tribute compilation Rave On Buddy Holly. And while acts from Paul McCartney to Fiona Apple already got their chance to pay homage, this September 6th sees a new set of musical superstars praise the bespectacled rock god with the release of Listen To Me: Buddy Holly.

This second compilation will feature offerings from Zooey Deschanel, Brian Wilson, Patrick Stump, Jackson Browne, The Fray, Chris Isaak, Ringo Starr, Cobra Starship, Natalie Merchant, Linda Ronstadt, Ringo Starr, Stevie Nicks, and more. The album’s proceeds will go to benefit The Grammy Foundation’s “Grammy Camps” and Artists’ House Music, both of whom develop programs and support for the future Buddy Holly’s of the world.

The album is available for pre-order here. In addition, watch a behind-the-scenes video of several artists, including Starr and Browne, and producer Peter Asher talking all things Holly at RollingStone.com.

The most glaring flaw to which nearly every number on See My Friends falls victim is the album’s seeming complete disregard for The Kinks as a band. Though Davies was the figurehead and chief creative force, The Kinks were a band. The classic songs Davies attacks and consistently falls short of were great for more than their words and their vocals. The originals sound youthful and adventurous, with some dating back more than 40 years, but these recently recorded songs, which feature much better technology and often quite young bands playing with Davies, come off as tired and uninspired. Davies has allowed rgw arrangements to age with his voice, but he never changes them enough to re-imagine anything. Sadly, it’s a bad covers album.

One of the strengths The Kinks used to their advantage was their ability to change their sound to suit the song, whether they wanted to evoke island sunsets or bar-room blues or just blend in to the 70′s rock that surrounded them. But that doesn’t excuse this compilation’s complete disregard for continuity or some sort of flow. Putting Lucinda Williams next to Metallica is jarring, but no transition ever sounds right on the entire collection, except the transitions that Billy Corgan and Mumford & Sons tunes take in the middle of their cuts, especially Corgan, who had the misfortune of having to perform “All Day and All Night”, a tired number any way you look at it. Weaving it with “Destroyer” is clever, letting Corgan sound like an idea man for a brief moment, breathing new life into well-worn territory.

But this cannot overshadow the bad ideas that populate the collection. Jon Bon Jovi and Richie Sambora strip the sentiment from the sentimental “Celluloid Heroes”, playing Los Angeles like Brandon Flowers’ plays Las Vegas on his new album. 70′s soft rock ballads are tricky becuase they were only acceptable in the 70′s, and the Bon Jovi-updating should have been predictable in its soulless execution. Spoon also strike-out big, taking a tune perfectly chosen for them in the more-experimental-at-the-time “See My Friends” and actually bringing it to more conventional territory. And further, they somehow don’t bring any element of their own sound to the song, with the vocals completely overwhelming the instrumentation. Spoon could have had a lot of fun with this tune, but the number sounds safe, serving only as a reminder of how lacking the entire collection really is.

And why do it? Is it for the music to find a new audience? Well, half the bands on here are nearly as old as Davies, so their audience is his audience. And the indie artists featured also don’t possess a lot of new ears for these classic songs. So with that ruled out and with it clear that the songs don’t really offer any creative re-workings, it gets narrowed down to a commercial move or a vanity project. Sure, you can’t fault anyone from saying yes when Davies calls up asking for a day of your time, but you can fault them for sounding like the thought put into it was literally one day. Tunes like these should be saved for surprise moments at the end of concerts, not recorded for re-listening.

Releasing it as a Davies album and not a Ray Davies tribute album is really misleading and unfortunate. As a tribute album, you could dismiss the collection as some noteworthy artists making Kinks songs that don’t compare to the originals. But with Davies putting his name on it, you have to interpret that the the man who wrote the songs actually thinks these are worthy to stand with his originals. And this simply is not the case and is worrisome for anyone thinking about how Davies views his classics and even his current taste level. Did he really come out of the Amy MacDonald recording session and think “That could be put in the same conversation as The Kinks version”? It is enough to really freak out a fan of The Kinks. Go back and listen to the source material and hear the intangibles: passion, chemistry and creativity. Why the originator would want grace the public with songs that only leave insights like “Frank Black and Ray Davies sound really similar” is beyond me.

When you write and record a song, there is no roadmap. See My Friends is limited by lines inside which the songs feel they need to color in order to make a picture, not knowing that the picture is already as clear as day. Take this however you want, but look at the artist list, and you’ll realize the two contributors who showed the most creativity were Billy Corgan and Mumford & Sons.

And I am not into Mumford & Sons whatsoever, but their versions of “Days” and “This Time Tomorrow” reinvent the tunes to suit their ability in pop-folk, and they are really strong cuts. The youth and enthusiasm they demonstrate is a sharp contrast with Paloma Faith and Gary Lightbody, who scream watered down adult contemporary. If you heard the recent statements from Win Butler about not being able to imagine Arcade Fire existing in ten years and how rock and roll is a young man’s game, it’s hard not to use this record as a supporting argument for the sentiment. Very few aging artists can maintain the creative passion of their youth, and their later careers are often supported primarily by nostalgia. But listening to the originals is a better way to revisit the feelings these songs may inspire. Listening to this will ultimately just depress you, learning that one of rock’s great artists has come to the point where he can’t realize when he’s hosting a karaoke night.

Set to take place October 23-24 at the Shoreline Amphitheater in Mountain View, California, this year’s benefit will be highlighted by two performances from Pearl Jam — their last of 2010 — and the reunion of Buffalo Springfield, the legendary rock group which featured Young, Stephen Stills, Richie Furay and Jim Messina (via Live 105.3).

Another obvious highlight will come on Sunday when the duo of Elton John and Leon Russell support their forthcoming collaborative album by joining Elvis Costello, Ralph Stanley, Neko Case, and actor Jeff Bridges as members of T-Bone Burnett’s Speaking Clock Revue.

Costello will also play his own solo set on Saturday, while the equally legendary Merle Haggard and Kris Kristofferson will team up for two joint performances on Saturday and Sunday. Other confirmed participants include indie rockers Modest Mouse and Grizzly Bear, UK musician Billy Idol, and songwriting legends Lucinda Williams and Jackson Browne, who will be joined by David Lindley.

Tickets are on sale starting Sunday, September 19th at 10 AM PST via Livenation.com

Saturday:
Buffalo Springfield
Pearl Jam
Elvis Costello
Merle Haggard and Kris Kristofferson
Lucinda Williams
Billy Idol
Jackson Browne and David Lindley
Modest Mouse
Grizzly Bear

Sunday:
Buffalo Springfield
Pearl Jam
T-Bone Burnett’s Speaking Clock Revue featuring Elton John, Leon Russell, Elvis Costello, Ralph Stanley, Neko Case and Jeff Bridges
Elvis Costello
Merle Haggard and Kris Kristofferson
Modest Mouse
Grizzly Bear

As Rolling Stone reports, on January 29th, in Los Angeles, the event will honor both Young’s Rock & Roll Hall of Fame-worthy musical achievements as well as his philanthropic work, which includes leading roles in both Farm Aid and the Bridge School benefit concerts.

And to celebrate the occasion, artists like Dave Matthews, Wilco, Crosby, Stills & Nash, Jackson Browne, Norah Jones, James Taylor, Sheryl Crow, k.d. lang, Emmylou Harris, Ozomatli, Josh Groban, Everest, and the Red Hot Chili Peppers (hiatus no more!) will come together to provide the evening’s entertainment.

If you’re interested in attending the event (and have at least $1,250), click here to download the reservation form.

The gala will be among the highlights in the week leading up to the 52nd annual Grammy Awards, taking place January 31st at Los Angeles’ Staples Center. Bono, Brian Wilson, Billy Joel, Aretha Franklin and, most recently, Neil Diamond are among those who have been past honorees of MusiCares Person of the Year.

While Vol. 2 follows the exact same format as its predecessor, several songs feel slightly congealed. This has nothing to do with Browne’s playing (his finger plucking and pipes are as resonant as ever), but with the selection from his catalogue.  Where Vol. 1 used more somber opuses that melted right into the strings of Browne’s piano and guitar (“For A Dancer,” “These Days”), Vol. 2 retools some of his more pop-oriented hits, stripping away their bittersweet momentum, the very thing that made them so remarkable in the first place. Milestone highlights like “Redneck Friend” and “Somebody’s Baby” lose their bounce under Browne’s bare bones vigil, making them sound flat and empty.

This isn’t the case with all of the tracks. Most of the material from 2002′s The Naked Ride Home fares better here than it did in its original format. Opener “Never Stop,” once an overproduced eruption of bubbly guitar noodling and cheesy background vocals, becomes a stripped down reflection on an unnamed woman who has stood by Browne through all of his rough spots. Against his haunting acoustic creak, Browne sounds a little regretful, faintly apologetic of the things he has done, but satisfied with the person he has chosen to spend his life. The song feels as honest and soul baring as it should have felt in the first place. The same goes for “Casino Nation,” a poetic lament of the damage mankind has done to the natural world. Exhumed from its original reggae guitar and plodding bass line, the song sounds more like a b-side of Springsteen’s Nebraska than the closer of a Sublime album. Ghostly lyrics like “entertainment shapes the land the way the hammer shapes the hand” finally get the stark treatment they deserve.

Unlike most live albums, it’s actually satisfying to hear Brown talk about his songs. It never feels forced because…well because it’s not. This isn’t Jay-Z being held at gunpoint by VH1 on Storytellers to reveal the secrets of American Gangster. Browne recorded a pair of intimate, revealing concert albums because he wanted to.  Whether it be an amusing encounter with a guitar shop owner (“The Night Inside Me”), a heartfelt tribute to his sister (“Enough of the Night”), or a chronicle of a brief romance in England (“Something Fine”), Browne’s stories and anecdotes behind the songs are just as much a part of the album as the songs themselves. When coupled together, they are a testament to the passion, sincerity, and relevance of his music — even when played in a coffee shop with a behemoth mermaid as its logo.

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