
aural fixation
My first pilgrimage to the birthplace of the blues—Clarskdale, Mississippi—was in 2000. Since then I’ve been back a dozen or so times, and my memory has made the details of this initial trip bleed into others. One thing, though, made an indelible impression on my young mind: Bobby Rush.
AURAL FIXATION: Rival Sons
One of my all-time favorite compliments came to me secondhand. A potential employer had asked a colleague to describe me. His answer: “Unflappable.”
I am notoriously levelheaded, sometimes to the point of frustration for people close to me (shout out to my exes!). It’s a blessing and a curse. I easily maintain my composure in what others would consider exasperating situations, but this poise can be misinterpreted as disinterest or dispassion. Let there be no confusion in this case. I’m aflame. I’m agog. I’m athirst. All for a band called RIVAL SONS.
AURAL FIXATION: Lawrence Rothman
Tucson is like Phoenix’s less popular but naturally prettier, down-to-earth sister. When it comes to attracting national touring musicians, though, her allure is often all for naught. They’re just bands passing through, not suitors looking for love. I adore Tucson, but sometimes I’m embarrassed for her, especially when good artists decide to grace us with their presence and end up playing to a nearly empty room.
Sadly, this was the case when Lawrence Rothman stopped here on his way to support Little Dragon on tour. There was a crowd of no more than ten people, and I’m pretty sure half were club employees. Despite the poor turnout, Rothman did not disappoint.

