Eat & Drink: Blue Eyes & Deano Burgers.


Here's a weekend grilling recipe for you, signed, sealed and delivered according to how Dean Martin and Blue Eyes himself enjoyed their patties.

While the original recipe here doesn't call for a grilling these burgers over a hot flame, and I don't want to insult "The King of Cool" here, but cooking a burger on a kitchen frying pan? What are we, savages? 

Martin Burgers


  • 1lb. ground beef
  • 2 oz. bourbon — chilled


Preheat a heavy frying pan and sprinkle bottom lightly with table salt. Mix meat, handle lightly, just enough to form into four patties. Grill over medium-high heat about 4 minutes on each side.

Pour chilled bourbon in chilled shot glass and serve meat and bourbon on a TV tray.

Sinatra Burgers

  1. Call for Deano.
  2. Tell him to make you a fuckin' burger.
  3. Drink his bourbon.

And there you have it. The original recipes are below and so is a 43 minute performance by Dean Martin that you can listen to while chugging burgers and cooking bourbon this weekend.

Doc Feldman: Shame On You Doc For Holding Out On Us


This world has some fine music. Not enough to devalue the great stuff due to the bad, but still, it's out there. Given the volumes of genres and holy mess of artists, you mostly have to dig for it. Like gold, love, or a worthwhile ball club with a .500+ record, more often than not you come up with dirt.

Prospecting. Every once in awhile your claim will yield weight.

Your claim is your genre, your weight is the prize artist. The gold. In the case of the folk/americana claim, an area I almost exclusively prospect, there is lots to sift through. More and more daily. Doc Feldman is gold.

After hearing him for the first time, I wished he had an entire catalogue of albums to discover for the first time. You know, when you hear a song and say, "Who the hell is this?" and your friend replies, "What? You've got catching up to do, here are four more albums..."

Turns out he's just released his first solo album, so all we have to play on repeat is Sundowning at the StationNote: Feldmen was also the founding member of Good Saints, so if you like what you hear here, track them down.

I have a personality that likes repetition, familiarity or simplicity. I don't know what it is, my wife could explain it better. I hadn't really noticed it until she pointed it out. My closet is a stack of plain white shirts and black shirts. Denim, basically the same shade of charcoal. Shorts that mostly look the same. Ten pairs of the same boat shoes. I'm difficult to please, but commited. One grey sweatshirt is unwearable because the designer didn't get the length quite right, but another of the same tone is the only one I'll wear for a year until it's dead. When I find something I like, I hit repeat. In the first week of Doc Feldman's release, I'd listened to the album 20 times. There's only one other artist that'd beat out that kind of looped abuse and that's A.A. Bondy, likely my all time most repeatable artist.

Other than the praise above, I don't know what else to say about this fine piece of work. As far as discussing the themes of the album or what he's accomplished musically, I think other blogs can do better (seriously, check 'em out: When You Motor Away, Folk Radio,  Mad Mackerel, Slowcoustic, and on, and on). It's just good, good stuff. Doc, just keep making music and don't you dare stop.

Check out the album, Sundowning at the Station on Bandcamp and buy the damned thing. Also, you've got Facebook. Go over there and Like Doc Feldman's page and keep up to date with the latest.

Here's one more track for the road... 



7 Deadly Questions: Trevor Risk

Seven Deadly Questions: Trevor Risk

Trevor's a good friend of mine who was originally introduced to me years ago through another great friend, because of our mutual love for the sport of American Football. God dammit, I love me some foosballs.

Well, as it turned out, we shared a lot of other things in common. Music, thoughts on this life we have, the bottle, love for a proper Friday night. You know. The stuff worth sticking around this place for.

Trevor is one of those encyclopedic types that doesn't need his smart phone as a reference to look up whatever stat or fact you're talking about. I use my phone all the time, it's the brain I can count on when I've abused mine too much. Watching football with Trevor isn't just a Sunday watching some shit go down on a field while yelling at a people who can't hear you, it's an educational experience and actually improves the game for anyone sitting within earshot. The same applies for anything else in life. Talking with him talking about music. History. Politics.

He's an interesting fella with lots to say, so who better to lead off this new series we're going to try, 7 Deadly Questions.

7 Deadly Questions

Gluttony — Do you have any kind of eating habits that are super shitty? A place to eat or type of food you wouldn't hit up on a first date, or maybe even after months of dating? Mine is probably KFC, but I ordered delivery from there for a Valentine's Day date one time. So, throw fear of gluttony out the window for this guy. Whatever, she loved it. Girls love KFC, especially on special occasions. Trust me.

Trevor: I try to eat real well, because my other habits aren't so healthy. I feel like I'm mostly trying to put a certain amount of dietary hit points in my life to curb the nonsense I get up to otherwise. You know that video of Jerry Seinfeld making Larry David eat a pancake and he's all "People live like this?" after he eats it? That's my attitude. I hate pancakes. I have a Catholic mum, so we used to eat a lot of pancakes, and always at dinner. It's basically just shovelling dough in your mouth, and I don't get it, and never did. I don't eat sweets. I don't drink coffee. Occasionally I'll eat half a bag of Hawkins cheezies, and late night food can often be bad for you, but on the whole, I like to eat fish, vegetables, and potato products. Also I've never understood Greek food. I mean, potato and rice on the same dish? What's that about? I don't even like rice. I've realized that recently. Rice is the worst ninety percent of the time. 

Lust — If you could photograph any girl on the planet naked, who would it be? I know you have a girlfriend, but there's no way she reads this shit. Go on, be honest! 

Trevor: I can't take a photograph to save my life. I don't have an eye for that. I like to think I'm serviceable with songs, and can write my way out of a wet sack of mice, but photos aren't in my wheelhouse. Like most red blooded men, I used to have a thing for Kate Upton, but after seeing how dim she seems to be after watching her on Letterman, and realizing that she's just the contemporary version of Anna Nicole Smith, I think I'm off that bangwagon (sic). Currently I'm enamoured by Alyssa CampanellaSatu SuominenDiora BairdMary Elizabeth Winstead, and Alex Daddario. But just for the experience, I'd like to take photos of Katie Aselton, just because we could talk football. 

Greed — What are you really reluctant to share with others? Something you just hoard, or when someone else has it or is sharing it with you, you think to yourself, "Back off, get your own sandwich!" 

Trevor: When I croak, I'd really like people to remember me as a generous guy. I'm definitely not into sharing meals though. Like, when women all crowd around and order one piece of cake and get, like, eight forks I want to kill myself. It's not that I NEED to eat all my own food, but if you want something to eat, order it. Don't eat my meal. 

Sloth — What makes you the laziest? I mean, "I'm never going to lift a finger again" lazy. Lazy beyond all respect. Heat? It's heat, right? I bet it's heat. 

Trevor: I do hate the heat. I'm not built for it. I have rice paper skin, that burns and then when it peels, it's whiter than before I started. If my cat is lying belly-up in the drawing room, I know better than to leave the house. She's like my thermometer. Sports probably make me lazy though. Sundays I get up early, just to relax, which I understand is like speeding towards a red light. But I can watch the NFL all day long. It's a chess match that has mesmerized me since I was a child. 

Wrath — You're not an angry guy as far as I know you. I mean, you certainly have your opinions, though.  I see you as a guy who basically always says what's on his mind whether it might offend someone or not. There's gotta be something more hidden in there. What do you really want to do or say to people when they do something you hate? What do you hate, anyway? 

Trevor: The two words that are misused the most in the English language are the "United" in United States of America, and "hate". My old man just wrote a book about his time in Canada Customs and counter terrorism. Reading it, I realize why he told me as a boy "Trevor, you don't HATE anyone. Hate is a strong word," and that's because he's seen real hate. He's seen people blown up with land mines because of political borders. He's seen people get skinned alive in Yugoslavia because of race. I try not to hate anything.

 I get that's not what you're asking though. What probably drives me up the wall the most is getting blamed as a straight man for the way women have body issues. I want to scream from the top of the mountain that it has nothing to do with us. All us straight men miss the days of the early nineties, when super models in George Michael videos had curves and took control of their careers. There's a reason that previously mentioned Kate Upton was on the cover of the swimsuit edition two years running, and those who call her fat are bigwigs in the fashion industry, who are almost entirely other women, and gay men; and who hates women more than women and gay men? Sorry lovely, when your gay friend calls you "slut" or "whore" he's being a shithead and I want to cold cock him. Y'know, if I'm trying to find sultry photos of Barbara Palvin or Kate Upton and run into another blog giving them crap for being "bigger" I'm going to lose it. I got a press release a few months ago for apparently "plus sized swimwear" and they were the foxiest women I had seen in weeks. 

Envy — So, let's say the ability to literally hijack somebody's body and life has just been invented. Like in Being John Malkovich, you just walk into a door on the 7 1/2th floor, and voila. You're that person. You sound like them. You look like them. You literally are them. But, like in the movie you only get about 30 minutes or whatever. Whose door are you walking into? What's the first thing you're going to do with their life in those 30 minutes? 

Trevor: I have this daydream when I'm watching sports, in the crucial moments of a game, being John Malkoviched into the body of the guy who is about to perform. Then I realize quickly that I'd bugger it up, so I think that I want to be transported into the body of the guy who's on the opposite team. Like, when I'm watching my Bruins, I wish I was Tuukka Rask, but then I quickly want to be the opposing goalie for a few minutes because it would be way easier to just let in a bunch of goals than stop some. Again, I get that you're asking a different question. I suppose I'm jealous of a few different people at different moments. Sometimes I get jealous of Taran Killam because he gets to be on SNL, and do Robyn impressions,and then come home to Cobie Smulders. Also, I see bands like the Smith Westerns and think about how good their songs are and how good looking they are and that they're like eight years younger than me. I've been envious of them before, for sure. 

Pride — When was the last time you patted yourself on the back and said, "Dammit, Trevor! You're good. Like, real good." 

Trevor: It might sound hokey, but I try not to listen to praise. I decided that when a person puts his personality on display, he is always going to get both harsh criticism and sycophantic praise, and that the urge is to only listen to the praise. But that will make you insane (see: Grimes) and surrounding yourself by a bunch of dick slurpers is no way to live. My closest friends give me shit constantly, which makes their compliments actually mean something (when I get them). A person can only listen to both criticism and praise, or neither. I choose neither, because it's easier that way. Choosing one or the other would make me pinwheel out of control. I try to just do my jobs, and try not to kill too much time between drinks. I will say that I'm proud of how good I am with animals. I don't even like dogs, but my mum used to take me to dog shows as a kid, and I would take dog magazines and cut out photos of all the breeds and keep them in a fanny pack. I know almost every breed and what their genetic failings are. I can get a cat to settle down and hang out real quick. My friends with cats usually get me to help them out with theirs. It's real easy. Cats are like women: ignore them and they'll be all over you. 

More About Trevor

Trevor has more going on than sitting with me and talking about football. A lot more. He is a Vancouver-based freelance writer, editor at ION Magazine, project manager at Light Organ Records, DJ, local impresario, and leader of the post-pop band Sunshine. It's shameful how much shit he's into. Me? I've got a blog and a bottle.

Follow him and the band on Twitter at @SunshineSucks and on Facebook.

Pick your poison, below is a SoundCloud and YouTube link to Sunshine's track about Doctor Who, The Tyler Rose...

Sunshine & Two Hundred Grand


The internet already took hold of the new Sunshine video yesterday. Sites much more reputable and with far more traffic than this one (Go here for music reviews with better adjectives: My Old Kentucky Blog, Beats Per Minute, Exclaim). But so what, we can get in on the action a day late and a dollar or two short. That's this site's motto!

These guys are some pals of mine, and I know they're in a band and shit, but they're actually great guys. Some of my favourite humans. We talk about sports, feelings, you know, The Whole Nine Yards. That one's capitalized because I'm actually referring to the 2000 RomCom starring Chandler and Bruce Willy. God dammit that's a fine film.

Sunshine debuted semi-recently (On my birthday, thanks guys!) with one of those self-titled, Band Name by Band Name albums. Sunshine by Sunshine. It's a pretty fantastic debut, and you can stream the whole damned shake up right here on Bandcamp.


Below is their latest video for Two Hundred Grand, and judging by my iTunes play count, my favourite track on the album by far. Coming in second is French Exit with an unfair advantage because it comes right after Two Hundred Grand, so it gets an automatic bump in the numbers by association.

Anyhow, the video is about lazy Saturday afternoons and shitty television. Or something. I don't know, I was too lazy to actually ask Trevor, so I pulled a quote by him from one of those other blogs I listed above. Look, all you need to do is click below, watch the video and bring up them YouTube played this many times numbers!

This video is our tribute to being a total dirt bag, burning through an afternoon with slacker channels of nothing but Xena: Warrior Princess and idiotic movies from the late eighties about cops buddying up with dogs.
— Trevor Risk

Twin Shadow: Five Photos In Your Heart


The guy that occasionally pulls his act together to send me photos recently shot Twin Shadow at the Electric Owl club in Vancouver. Take a look-see at these fine shots and listen to some Twin Shadow.

For more photos by Tom Nugent, check out his website.