No cover charge tonight!
Los Angeles Magazine
His flare for songwriting is better than ever.
By: Julia St. Pierre
“…his flare for songwriting is better than ever. Life’s troubles are laid out with fiery humor in “Late for My Funeral,” the anguish of love is woven through “This Year,” and a there’s a poignant dose of introspection as he tries to find his way out of the “Lost Side of Town.”
“…in the honky-tonk world of southern California (and now, Texas), Mike Stinson is king. His latest album, Hell and Half of Georgia, covers your classic country bases – loyalty (“Died and Gone to Houston”), money struggles (“Box I Take To Work”), heartbreak (“This Year”), general life problems (“Late for My Funeral”) – and with the help of R.S. Fields, ups the roadhouse rock ante while prescribing a liberal dose of the “Texas treatment.”
No Depression / Hyperbolic
“…other gems show that his flare for songwriting is better than ever. Life’s troubles are laid out with fiery humor in “Late for My Funeral,” the anguish of love is woven through “This Year,” and a there’s a poignant dose of introspection as he tries to find his way out of the “Lost Side of Town.”Houston’s clearly lit a new fire in Stinson’s music, and R.S. Field turns out to be the right man to get it on tape.”
“He can kick out the honky-tonk jams with the best of them, and he can tear out your heart with a ballad.
IRISH SESSION - 8:30PM
You can hear the lively blend of fiddle, flute and percussion from the muddy sidewalk outside the pub. Inside, musicians pack the corner stage.
On the right are the fiddlers, three or four of them. To the left are the bodhran drummers, holding their ancient Irish tom-toms like shields.
An acoustic guitarist strums the rhythm at center stage, with a couple of penny-whistle players blowing in his ears. All the musicians are playing hard to be heard over the boisterous banter of patrons lifting pints of ale and stout malts at tables or at the bar.
A fiddler calls for The Cliffs of Moher, an instrumental known to Celtic musicians around the world. This leads into a medley of traditional jigs and reels that inspires one lass to do a high-hopping ceili dance in a corner of the room. An older man watches, smiles, claps along for a minute and orders another pint.
THE pub could be in Dublin or Belfast, where Irish folk musicians have passed down traditional tunes from generation to generation. Or it could be in New York or Boston, where tight Irish-American communities have kept a bond with old-country culture.
But it's not. It's right here in Houston's Upper Kirby district. The scene is replayed with minor variations every Wednesday night at McGonigel 's Mucky Duck's long-running Irish session.