Needing little prompting for a trout porn jag, here's proof. Most exciting for me was catching amazing, native subspecies that I hadn't before (Lahontan cutthroats, Pennsylvania brook trout), a trout species that I'd never caught before (lake trout), and cutthroat trout reintroduced to a native drainage (Westslopes on the high west side of Yellowstone). And that big Yellowstone Lake survivor in July.

The highlight reel.

1.) February 2011, Rainbow Trout, Truckee River, Reno, NV

2.) March 2011, Lahontan Cutthroat Trout, Pyramid Lake, NV

3.) April 2011, Brown Trout (Smurfette displays) Oquaga Creek, NY

4.) May 2011, Brown Trout, East Branch Croton River, Westchester County, NY

5.) June 2011, Rainbow Trout, East Branch Croton River, Westchester County, NY

6.) July 2011, Lake Trout, Lewis River Channel, Yellowstone National Park

6.1.) July 2011, Brook Trout, Fawn Lake, Yellowstone National Park

6.2) July 2011, Yellowstone Cutthroat Trout (Mystery Creek) Yellowstone National Park

6.3.) July 2011, Westslope Cutthroat Trout, High Lake, Yellowstone National Park

7.) August 2011, Rainbow Trout, Reno, NV

8.) September 2011, Brown Trout, Lewis Lake, Yellowstone National Park

9.) October 2011, (Native) Brook Trout, Devil's Hole Creek, Pennsylvania

10.) November 2011, Brown Trout, Spring Creek, Bellefonte, PA

11.) December 2011, Brown Trout, Little Juniata River, Pennsylvania

12.)  January 2012, Rainbow Trout, East Branch Croton River, Westchester County, NY (Today!)

"Nate, what a long strange trip it's been. I'm doing 864 across America and I just got out of a Mexican jail. I had all my guns taken and all my reefer taken. And the ATF interrogated me as a fuckin' terrorist for two hours. Fuckin' A it's great. I was in a Quinten Tarantino scene and I didn't have a fuckin' weapon. I felt so fuckin' naked. By god, it was just a-hummin' and a-thumpin' there man. Yeah, the past five days have been some of the most uplifting days since before the war in my life. And here I am on this cross-country trip to Florida. And let me tell you, that state of Texas is one armed, fucking camp. Those people were more afraid of me than I was of them. And they roughed me and they fuckin' cuffed me. And, funny thing, when I got into the jail cell in my fuckin' black-and-white stripes gong horizontal and sometimes vertical on the arms and legs, you know, there's a 35-year-old guy about 6' 2" 195 looks at me and says, "WHATCHOO' IN FOR, GRANDPA? HA-HA-HA-HA-HA!" I gave him the eye for about, like (pause) ten seconds and I said, "Murder, motherfucker. What are you in for?" Shit, everything stood still there for a second. Then I just kinda' winked at him. I said, "Reefer! Just like all you motherfuckers in here!" Hey! Everybody laughed, it was great. I've driven thousands of fuckin' miles and it's just been great. Gimme' a call back, bro."

Also on the gig are Pete Smith on guitar, Eric Hartz on bass and the inimitable (though I've been accused of trying) J.D. Hughes on drums. This should be a fun 'un because it's the same lineup I first met in the basement of Niagra four years ago. You know the drill: pick any Stones tune you wanna' sing and then come onstage and perform it with a live, really kickin' rock band. (I'm just the wrangler in this outfit.)

This is the guitar that Gitano had custom-built.

Seriously.

Freakout! Please click over to iTunes today and check out the long-awaited sophomore album from my great friends, the band Spanking Charlene. The record is called Where Are The Freaks? and one of the many reasons I'm excited for this hot wax to drop is because I play harmonica on the title track. I proudly submit that it's the filthiest harp solo I've ever put to tape -- completely appropriate for Spanking Charlene. Right, lady?

Where Are The Freaks?was produced by guitar/bike-freak Eric "Roscoe" Ambel, and features two tracks produced by E-Street/Sopranos/Underground Garage-freak "Little" Steven Van Zandt (freaky amount of nicknames, eh?) Little Steven gave the platters "Dismissed With a Kiss" and "Canarsie" some serious spin-time on his Sirius Satellite radio show last year. ("Kiss" was even voted the #6 "Coolest Song in the World" on that station in 2011!)

The Freaks release party is this Saturday night at the Lakeside Lounge and there you can buy an old-fashioned CD. I'll be there to jump up with the band and honk out the solo on the song "Where Are the Freaks." When I tried that in Raleigh one time, I fell off the stage. I'm guessing there won't be room at Lakeside to topple offstage on Saturday.

Congrats, freaks.

Such are my music reviews, friends. I can't even feign objectivity anymore.

In that spirit, I wanted to call your attention to two classics, one timely, one time-ticking; both timeless.

Plug numero uno, just in time for the season, is a bona-fide Christmas record from my old and great friends and teachers Chip Whitson and Bob Wire. It says something about their caliber of musicianship and tunesmithing that these two wiseacres, veteran bar-band barnstormers of the Inland Empire, created a supergroup just by teaming up. Their record "Off-White Christmas," is a honky-tonk, solid-gold, laughalong. "Off White" showcases Whitson in full rockabilly-Grinch mode, on one track crooning "Sha-la-la-la don't come home this Christmas," and on another growling, "You ain't gettin' shit!" Wire revels in redneck satire, barking like a infomercial pitchman on the politically prescient, buy-now-pay-later ode, "Credit Card Christmas," and then like a boxing announcer giving the blow-by-blow of a dangerous game of lawn ornament one-upsmanship in, "The Great Christmas Decoration Tragedy of 1981."

Musically "Off White" is pleasing in its sophisticated familiarity. Wire has a great, charging country feel but it's Whitson who delivers some of the most sonically pleasing moments. Whitson shows off his masterful ability to fuse together early sixties sounds including rock, pop, rockabilly, Motown and soul. "Santa's Got A Sharkskin Suit," swings like mad, "My Ex-Miss Carol" decks the halls with boughs of Buddy Holly and "I'd Rather Be Alone" sounds like it could've been sung by Elvis Presley's grouchy twin brother after flipping across a rerun of "Blue Hawaii" (you know, in an alternate universe where Jesse Garon survives childbirth and goes on to live a life of obscurity; the Tito to Elvis' Michael).

The punchlines make this record a real kick. Every tune is packed with 'em. In "Santa's Getting Bigger" Wire yuks, "He comes down your chimney with his sack/The first thing that he looks for is a big ol' snack." Later he weeps his way through "My Birthday's on Christmas," a child's lament of getting only one present for two celebrations. Whitson has some off-white holiday pun, I mean fun, with lyrics like, "Thinking of you while he decks your halls," on "I'd Rather Be Alone," and "You eat all my food and leave nothing but your Yule log," on "(Sha-la-la-la) Don't Come Home This Christmas."

The high points of this record are its duets. "Last Minute Shopper," begins with Whitson moaning the blues about waiting until after dark on Christmas Eve to buy gifts. Then with a drum roll the song kicks into doubletime and an adrenalized -- some might even say amphetaminized -- Wire gleefully name-checks all the gas station goodies he's able to buy at "the all night truckstop out on Highway 9." They include a folding knife for his son, a friendship bracelet for his wife, a rawhide pretzel for the dog and even "a case of Red Bull just of fun." Suck it, Robert Earl Keen.

The last song, "I Can't Believe It's Christmastime Again," is a real gem. It's a duet between Wire and his wife Shannon (known onstage, of course, as "Barb Wire.") Mrs. Wire starts each verse singing a pretty melody over a major chord, and then Wire clangs a minor chord and offers Bah Humbug rejoinders. "Christmas is a special time of year," the Missus sings before -- clang! -- Wire retorts, "Because it makes my paycheck disappear." And then after she reminds that Christmas is a time of hope  -- clang! --  Wire deadpans, "Has anybody seen my bag of dope?"

Can he really say that? In a Christmas song?

That last song features the Wires' son, Hudson, on bass guitar and daughter, Sophie, on viola. Its a sweet family moment tucked alongside these two longtime friends and star chuckleheads having their fun. And hey, shouldn't that be a part of everybody's Christmas?

Click here to download or order Off White Christmas from CD Baby.

Here's plug numero two. Friends, please click here, go to Little Steven's Underground Garage and vote my friends' Spanking Charlene's song "Dismissed With A Kiss" the "Coolest Song In The World" for 2011.

That song, "Dismissed With A Kiss," was produced by Little Steven and was picked as "Coolest Song of the Week" in early May, earning it some major airplay on Little Stevie's Sirius Satellite Radio Show, "The Underground Garage."

Now Spanking Charlene are up against the likes of Robbie Robertson, Tom Morello, Blondie, even Joey Ramone himself for the title of Coolest Song of the Year. My sources in the organization tell me that as of right now, they're running in the top five!

Here's the deal, go to this link NOW (because voting ends at midnight FRIDAY) and scroll down to Dismissed With A Kiss, dated May 8, 2011. VOTE FOR IT!

Then feel free to download the song from iTunes, along with Spanx Charlene's other too-cool single "Canarsie" (note: be careful NOT to vote for "Canarsie" for Coolest Song 2011 -- "Dismissed" is the one that's running closest to the top.)

Be on the lookout in 2012 for Spanking Charlene's new full length album "Where Are The Freaks," featuring a cameo harp solo by yours truly.

Happy, Merry everybody.

- Homer

Musicians need to remember their fans and that email was a good reminder for me not to take mine for granted. My fan, that is. Truth of the matter was I was working pretty hard on an intense assignment. But this blog isn't about work, it's about music (and by "music" I mean "trout" and by "trout" I mean "buffalo.")

Fortunately, music and work intersected in State College, PA.

Friends, I'd like to draw your attention to two world-class musical talents that I met named Ted McCloskey and Molly Countermine. When I first heard Ted and Molly sing together, I was floored. They do this thing with their voices that very few artists are talented enough to pull off. Molly, the female voice, sings the root note of the melodies and Ted, the male voice, sings the harmony part underneath her. It's a sound used by cool veteran artists like Lucinda Williams and Gillian Welch, as well as that great new group The Civil Wars. Not many singers can do it well, and Ted and Molly are about the best I've heard. Plus they have such awesome taste in songs, pulling out nuggets like "When The Stars Go Blue," by Ryan Adams, "Angel From Montgomery" by John Prine, "Baby What You Want Me To Do," by Jimmy Reed plus great, obscure Stones covers like "You Got The Silver" and "Factory Girl" (Factory Girl!) I was astounded that I could be one of a handful of people listening to them for free on a central Pennsylvania schoolnight as opposed to, you know, emptying my pockets to sit in a metropolitan balcony and stare down at them.

And, hey, who wouldn't want to stare at Molly? Here's a picture of her performing with her own group, "Pure Cane Sugar," which features three frontwomen singing in three-part harmony. They do a killer, sultry version of Zep's "Black Dog."

Ted's got his own band too, called Ted McCloskey and the Hi-Fis, which features Molly's husband Rene on bass (see, all great music scenes are like families!) Ted's a guitar whiz, and his group does really cool versions of tunes like "Lovesick" by Bob Dylan, "Down in the Hole" by Tom Waits and "Ball and a Biscuit" by the White Stripes. But his best song is one he wrote called "Stitch by Stitch," which features Molly singing backup harmony. It's on Ted's new album called "Almost Sentimental." Now that I'm the band's biggest fan, I had to make a YouTube splice of both an acoustic and an electric performance of "Stitch by Stitch."

Somehow I managed to luck in to singing with Ted & Molly, so for my entire embed in State College I had places to go and stages to guest on, which I'm very grateful for. One of my colleagues even captured one of my performances. I'm not kidding when I say this is a microphone move I perfected while in journalism school.

Support these two artists, folks! Especially if you live around State College, PA. You don't know how lucky you are to have top-notch talent like this so readily accessible.

I was out in Central Pennsylvania helping to cover the story about Jerry Sandusky, the former Penn State football coach accused of sexually molesting young boys. It was a big story and an intense experience. I had three big dogs sicked on me and I had three different people lie to my face. I was threatened by a truck driver and also by a creepy, anonymous latenight phone call.  I was in a riot and I breathed the spray. Angry people called me a bunch of colorful names. I banged on dozens of doors and canvassed a few trailer parks. I barely slept. I don't want to say anything more than what's already been out there, but there were a couple moments in the coverage that stood out.

One was my first riot. This one broke out after Penn State students learned that their beloved football coach Joe Paterno had been fired by the university's Board of Trustees for possibly not going to police with information that one of his former coaches had raped a 10-year-old boy in the school's showers. I watched students tip over this news van and try to light it on fire. Then they tore  down lampposts and street signs and they hurled rocks at cops. The cops responded by hosing everybody with spray. I hacked.

Later I put a lot of shoe leather into a story I was proud of about one of Sandusky's alleged victims. It garnered some pretty intense criticism from the local paper, the Harrisburg Patriot News. Predictable voices piled on the bandwagon. A friend let me know that an anonymous internet poster even paid $1.99 to look up my old addresses and phone numbers and gave instructions to "contact Nate at his house to let him know what a slimeball he is...hope your life turns into a hell worse than that kids."

I was surprised by an editorial in the Washington Post that defended the Times and criticized the Patriot-News for being sanctimonious.

Out of this mudslinging mire the Times managed to land one of the biggest and best scoops I've ever been a part of; an exclusive, extended interview with Jerry Sandusky himself. I snapped this photo at 3 a.m. in the middle of an all-night editing session in a State College hotel room with videographer Rob Harris and reporter extraordinaire Jo Becker, who scored this awesome get.

My favorite thing about my day job are the incredible people I'm lucky enough to get to do journalism with. "Team Times" had an especially good crew out in State College, PA. We worked really well together and we had a lot of fun too. Our boss, editor Joe Sexton, sent out a cool email to all Times online subscribers telling about the paper's Penn State coverage. In it he said some very complimentary things about Team Times, which included Jo Becker, Bill Pennington, Pete Thamel and Mark Viera. Sexton also said this:

"Nate Schweber, one of the most intrepid and brave freelancers, was in his car. I had used Nate on any number of stories when I was Metro editor, from the serial killings of prostitutes in Atlantic City to the attempted subway terror attack of 2009. He'll go anywhere, ask anything, and almost always come back with the goods."

It ain't "Nate Schweber fronts the most amazing rock 'n' roll band on earth!" But as my first "review" from the New York Times, I'll fuckin' take it.

There were a few eyes in the hurricane. One was a fantastic food and music joint called the American Ale House, which produced probably the bulk of the receipts submitted for reimbursement by Team Times. I got off to an auspicious start with the waitstaff after I unknowingly approached them for an interview at a separate bar the first night I was in town. With this painful scandal being less than 48 hours old at that point, the ladies had some rather choice names for this carpetbagging journalist (one rhymed with "mouchemag.") A week later I met Ted and Molly at the Alehouse and sang with them, seemingly to the delight of the servers. Soon it came to be known that the ladies who blasted me the previous week included a couple of the Alehouse's finest waitresses. We laughed good and hard and became great friends. The Alehouse gals even brought out pieces of cake with candles on them for Thamel and me, because we had back-to-back birthdays in the middle of November. Plus, as a Warren Zevon fan, how could I not love a joint with this written above the sandwich offerings on their menu?

I was able to "Montana-down" with a couple new friends who teach in the PSU creative writing department. Also, I was very happy to reconnect with my friend Bill Voigt, the coordinator of Yellowstone's Volunteer Fly Fishing Program, who lives in State College during the off-season. Bill, as you recall, took me to a spot in Yellowstone last summer that I'd long wanted to see, the Pelican Valley.

Bill introduced me to a great Pennsylvania trout stream called The Little Juniata River. It had this for me on my way out of town.

I didn't realize how high-strung I was during my entire stay in Pennsylvania until I got back to New York City and drove into Manhattan traffic (repeat, Manhattan traffic). Only then did I feel the tension ease out of my shoulders.

A few other central Pennsylvania scenes:

Count the number of orange tabby cats in front of this trailer home (one of dozens I door-knocked).

I kinda' dug that someone did this to all the deer crossing signs between Sussex County, NJ and Centre County, PA.

A State College, PA laundromat, of course. 

I ran back to NYC on Thanksgiving, just long enough to play a good Li'l Mo's Field of Stars gig at a cool new venue called "The Treehouse." I had fun playing my songs, I got nice feedback, and I enjoyed jamming with both Sean Kershaw and Tom Clark afterhours. Tom projected a video image the gig on a tall brick building across the street, which was cool. I tried to take a picture of Li'l Mo sitting next to me, and Li'l Mo projected on three stories.

On the subject of of Pennsylvania, Yellowstone, and trout, because of this Penn State madness I was a little tardy in sending edits to Stackpole Books in Mechanicsburg, PA for my manuscript on troutfishing in Yellowstone. But today I submitted the whole, edited draft. It's supposed to be published next summer. Will keep you posted on its progress.

And to keep you posed on the ongoing Yellowstone-bison-relocation-saga that I've been acutely tuned to these past couple years months, Montana Fish, Wildlife & Parks revised their plan to move healthy, genetically pure, disease-free bison to new ranges in the state. Because ranchers and farmers packed several public meetings and pitched a fit, no longer will Montana Fish, Wildlife and Parks recommend moving the bison to either the Spotted Dog or Marias Wildlife Management areas near Deer Lodge and Shelby respectively. However, tribal members stood up at these factitious meetings and said Yellowstone's bison would be welcome with them, and now some of the bison will be moved to both the Fort Peck and Fort Belknap reservations.

Native Americans inviting bison and a bunch of white ranchers and farmers wanting them gone; a fascinating amalgam of 19th and 21st century attitudes.

Whew. That's a proper wadbuster. I'll do anything for my fan.

Please come out to this new East Village joint called The Treehouse this upcoming Sunday (post-turkey) as I'm playing at Li'l Mo's latest Field of Stars songwriter pull. The last Field of Stars I played was at (dearly departed) Banjo Jim's and it was awesome (still rocking to Mary Battiata!) Word is that guitarman Tom Clark is trying to ease some of the pressure from Banjo's closing by hosting acoustic shows at The Treehouse up above 2A on Sunday nights. I'm excited to check it out. Won't you join me?

Now the plan has been postponed. Indefinitely. Here's the headline in today's Lewiston Morning Tribune:

"Ranchers Force Delay in Yellowstone Bison Relocation."

Sigh. My reaction? Guys...

We'll get 'em next time, mom.

Proud Highway/Getaway Baby/Thankless War/Halo of Blue/Elemental/Beautiful Drugs & Hard Women/Lawyers, Guns & Money

Friday night the infamous, fruitcake, ad-hoc, never-the-same-lineup-twice Gitano Herrera Tribute Band Rolling Stones Karaoke Band pinch hit at the Lakeside Lounge. We tried to play a few "Halloween-themed" Stones songs.

Let It Bleed/Shattered/Dancing With Mr. D/Monkey Man/She's So Cold/Happy/Tumbling Dice/Brown Sugar/Starfucker/Beast of Burden/Sympathy for the Devil

But the Stones tune I had the most fun performing this weekend was Lovin' Cup. The Early Grace Band called me up at Hank's to sing the harmony part. I hadn't seen those friends play in a couple years and it was a revelation to hear them again. This group rocks, folks. Great players, great songs, great choice covers (nothin' but Stones and Lucinda Williams!) great sound. I can't sing their praises enough. I can't sing with 'em enough either.

Anna & Chris from Early Grace