Most surprising live shows of the year:

1) Cake at the Telluride Bluegrass Festival

Telluride is a bastion for some of the finest pickers this side of the universe. Regal names like Sam Bush and Emmylou Harris pluck nightly for the adoring faithful who come from as far as a continent away to hear acoustic goodness. That’s why I traveled a thousand miles to hear my favorite bluegrass ambassadors. So, when I came across Cake on the Friday night schedule, I became confused. I knew Cake to be a catchy pop band whose music had never made a connection with my ears. Plus, pop and bluegrass had never really hit it off in the genre-splicing department.

But, a shimmy was in my step all night long and the calls of the wild front ... I mean campground had yet to pull me in. Reluctantly, my wife and I traipsed back into the fairgrounds to “just catch a glimpse.” No, it wasn’t bluegrass, but Cake managed to enrapture the crowd a song into their set. Yes, it was poppy, but there was a cerebral finish that made their music glitter. That, and they were one of the tightest instrumental outfits I had ever seen. Lead singer John McCrea was not so much a crooner, as political wordsmith. His sarcastic poetry slams meshed perfectly with sounds interlaced in funk, punk, honkytonk, and even a tickling of jazz (thanks in part to their trumpet player, Vince DiFiore). Sam Bush and Bela Fleck even stepped on stage to lend a bluegrass tinge to “Italian Leather Sofa.”

“Wow” was all I could eep out. By week’s end I’d purchased all of their albums. I’ve been a fan(atic) ever since.

2) Widespread Panic at Von Braun Center in Huntsville

The death of guitarist Michael Houser earlier that year (August) left a gaping wound that some fans didn’t think could be sutured. But the five remaining members of Panic knew that only the music could heal such an insurmountable loss.

To help caulk the hole, Panic enlisted sax player Randall Bramlett (Sea Level, Traffic) and guitarist George McConnell (Kudzu Kings). The skeptics were in full wolf gear; each note that McConnell played was under a glaring microscope. McConnell finished up the summer tour for the ailing Houser, and the complaints about his playing (despite being with a band of Panic’s caliber for only three weeks) had blackened the onset of fall tour. However, the band started their excursion in New Orleans on Halloween, and the complaints tapered off. McConnell had obviously practiced, and the five veterans showed their support onstage by giving thumbs up or wraparound smiles after every George solo.

The next weekend was Huntsville, and in the lot before the show, we noticed stickers going around that triumphantly remarked, “Good Job, George.” Still, I couldn’t get the sick feeling out of my stomach that I was about to see two mediocre nights. After that, I reckoned, I would put up my spurs and quit following a band that had taken up my last eight years.

Thank God I was wrong. The next two nights proved why I’ve spent the equivalent of a small nation to see these guys. Old songs were given facelifts (some extending past the 20 minute mark), and new ones (like the War cover, “Slipping Into Darkness” and Bramlett’s “God Was in the Water”) had set lists geeks salivating. The five remaining members showed why they’re professionals. Each musician stepped up to the plate, showing new licks and a proclivity for the experimental. The shows felt like the mid -90’s again, with half full attendance, and music that extended beyond the expected three hours.

Most importantly, George McConnell has snugged into his spot well, and it seems like the future of Panic is adorned in roads of roses.

“Logistically, it’s not just the band,” guitarist John Bell told Keith Spera of the Times Picayune, in his first interview since Houser’s death. “We’ve got a lot of things that we feel responsible for, (such as) other people’s livelihoods, and our own sense of musical fulfillment. In your head, you want to stop, or at least you might think about it. But I don’t think, in any of our minds, that it served a purpose. It always came up as being a negative.”

Most Disappointing Live Show of the Year:

1) The Yohimbe Brothers at the Orange Peel

It was hard not be excited when a bill promoted guitarist Vernon Reid (Living Color) and the master of turntables DJ Logic. Add the unveiling (for me) of the new Asheville nightclub, The Orange Peel, and it seemed like a trio assembled at the pearly gates. Well, at least the Orange Peel was really cool.

The Yohimbe (an African root which enhances male sexual performance) Brothers was a muddled mess. The sound had an infection of gremlins that didn’t subside until near the end. But, that was only a fingernail of the problem. Each time Logic would break a beat; old Vernon would come in with guitar licks that seemed trapped from his 80’s heydays with Living Color. I know Reid to be an exceptional guitarist, but his sound did not lattice with Logic’s. Surrounding the two marquees were an odd assortment of players who seemed better matched at Ye Olde Worlde Carnival. The most interesting was a blue haired chap (Leon Grunbaum) who had what seemed to be a Commodore 64 keyboard strapped to his belt area. I’m sure it was innovative, but my Stone Age mind could not get over someone jamming out to a word processor component. Plus, it created a bigger conundrum in Logic’s and Reid’s already messy pile. Yikes!

Best Films of the Year:

1) “The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers”

As of this writing, I have yet to see the movie. But, come on, who are we fooling? “The Fellowship” exceeded my expectations for a Tolkien rehash, and the early positive reviews on the “Two Towers” are promising. No, I don’t have a time machine to legitimize my claim that the “Two Towers” is the best of 2002, nor do I have the clout for early viewings. But, if I’m wrong, I’ll go back and redo this article. Just watch me.

2) “Bowling for Columbine”

It’s already been named the best documentary ever, and it was the first documentary film accepted into competition at the Cannes Film Festival in 46 years. After its world premiere on May 17, “Bowling for Columbine” received a 13-minute standing ovation. It then went on to win the jury prize at Cannes.

Rogue journalist Michael Moore created a documentary that bleached out the ill fabric of our society—fear and consumption. By looking into our colossal gun culture, “Bowling” proved that the nation couldn’t blame video games or hard rock on the 11,000 deaths in the U.S. due to gun violence. Instead of being heavy-handed, Moore injected humor into a serious subject. However, once he set up the grin mechanics, Moore hit hard with stark images like the black white surveillances of the Columbine massacre. By cleverly arranging humor and tragedy, Moore created a film that may be the most important of the 21st century.

Most Disappointing and Confusing Film of the Year:

1) “Gosford Park”

I know it came out last year, but the videotape arrival this year was coat-tailed with gargantuan fanfare. Many called it Robert Altman’s masterpiece, and the same critics proclaimed it as his most accessible. I’m sure it was considering I slept through “Nashville” in film class, and demanded my two hours of life back after viewing “The Player”.

It’s not that “Gosford Park” was awful; I just couldn’t make it through the entirety. I rewound each couple of minutes to catch the myriad of names and events that piled up like unsupervised ticker tape. In defiance, my body finally shut down, prohibiting me from reaching the conclusion. Feeling shallow, I even rented the damn thing again. The pattern remained the same — incessant rewinding followed by nappy time. Forgive me, Mr. Altman, I guess I don’t have the mentality (or the right drugs) to give “Gosford Park” a fair shake.

Best Album of the Year

1) Jurassic 5 “Power in Numbers”

Four rappers and two turntable wizards have created perhaps the greatest rap band since the inception of Run DMC and Grandmaster Flash. Based in L.A., Jurassic 5 relies on positive lyrics (i.e. “I Am Somebody”) and gutsy sampling to spread their wise words of soul affirmation. “Power in Numbers” is their third album and includes cameos by Big Daddy Kane, Nelly Furtado, and Kool Keith. The quartet of voices (pay special attention to Chali 2NA) match any instrumental rhythm section, and the landscape of DJ’s NU-Mark and Cut Chemist create a musical duality between rapper and sampler that smells a little like genius.

Worst Album of the Year

I don’t know. I’ve gotten so cheap in my old age that I exercise extreme caution when buying music. Perhaps, if the Yohimbe Brothers did the “Gosford Park” soundtrack, I could hedge a complaint.