Hopelessly Pop, those kind folks who gave 'Misadventures' such a sweet review last month, just used up more of their disk space to run an interview with me. You can . . .

Read It Here.

This is Part 1, which means that they're foolish enough to put up even more later in the week. I'll keep you posted and thanks to thew Hopelessly Pop crew.

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Well, the good folks over in the UK at Uncut Magazine that were kind enough to ask me to record a Faces tune for their March 2008 issue just got kinder with this review in their November 2008 issue.

This is in an actual, physical MAGAZINE (remember those?) and I can not find it online anywhere (if you do, please let me know in the comments). So, at the risk of my head exploding, here it is:

JIM BOGGIA
Misadventures in Stereo

Thoughtful, hooky retro-pop with panache

On his breakthrough third album, Philadelphian Jim Boggia comes on like a muted power-pop shaman, channeling myriad melodic styles (cf. Rubber Soul-era Beatles, Matthew Sweet) into a cosy little world of sad reverie and eight-track stereo memories. Guitarist Al Anderson and Pet Sounds lyricist Tony Asher chip in, but Boggia's pithy vision, leaning on his warm tenor, carries the day. On the album's quieter first half, especially the soul-searching "Nothing's Changed," Boggia channels a bit of Aimee Mann-ish rumination, while the endearingly catchy "8Track" raves like a vintage Redd Kross rocker. - Luke Torn

Very cool. Thanks to Luke and Uncut.

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WXPN just tabulated and played their 885 Essential Songs which was voted on by tens of thousands of folks and I'm very flattered that my version of Queen's 'Somebody to Love' came in at number 310.

Thanks to everybody who voted. Freddie thanks you, too.

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Since I palyed the Living Room the previous night, I started from NYC, which meant the drive was only going to be about 5 and a half hours. Y'know, ONLY 5 and a half hours.

To demonstrate the insignificance of this, my friend Mary (ever at the driver's wheel with a set of eyes which only sees one of everything, as opposed to my three to eight, which tends to complicate things) and I decided to go up and back the same night. This is part of our "less than six hours one way we go up and back the same night" rule.

I'll cut to the chase, ths was not a gig worth even driving one of the ways. The club was actually pretty nice but basically empty (although my friend and really talented Amber DeLaurentis came out to share the pain), the band I was opening for decided that THEY were going to play first because they had a long drive that night (we compromised by alternating sets) and to top it off, the booking agent I was briefly working with who LIVES in Burlington didn't come out, which was sort of the point of the whole excercise.

BUT, there was one thing worth writing about.

Mary has a GPS system for the car. While we were driving through some tiny backroads at the top of New York state we were talking to each other about how freaked out we would be if we had to do this with maps or even a Google Maps printout - straining to read road signs in the middle of nowhere.

"Yes, the GPS is truly a modern stress-reducing miracle", said we.

"Turn right, take ferry," said Ms. GPS.

"Did she just say, 'Take ferry'?" Mary and I both asked in unison.

We turned right to find ourselves on a very short dirt road that ended at the point that a large body of water began. This was unexpected.

At this point, we were cutting it close on time to the club and hitting the high seas hadn't really been factored in to our ETA.

We spotted a tiny - well, let's be honsest - SHACK off to the left. As we approached we could see lights and then a woman who helpfully explained yes, this was the entrance for the ferry and the next one was in about half an hour and then we would need to take a 20 minute ferry ride across Lake Champlaigne (the aforementioned large body of water) in order to get to Vermont.

"There's a bridge" said our nautical angel "but it's down the road about 50 minutes."

Anchors away.

Luckily, we had the presence of mind to asl when the last ferry back was.

"You're driving back to New York City tonight?" asked the woman in the shack.

Turns out the last one back was 9:30, which was going to be too early, which meant our ride back just got 50 minutes longer.

Still, it was a beautiful night and waiting for the ferry we got out and went down by the water - lapping waves is definitely one of my favorite sounds - and Mary took some great pictures (I'll post a link in a bit). Riding the ferry was an unexpected turn that wound up being the best part of the trip.

The gig was crap, but the sailing was great.

It's always hard to play 4 weeks in a row in one room without the shows getting a bit stale, so I decided I would have themes for each night to break it up a bit.

Last week I played 'Misadventures in Stereo' solo acoustic from beginning to end, which I'd never done before (I'd never played 'Chalk One Up for Albert's Side' solo EVER, for that matter).

This week it seemed like the right crowd to do an all-request show, which I thought worked out really well. It's always interesting for me to hear which tunes people call out for, and I was surprised to have 'So Full' and 'Shine' requested right off the bat. Sometimes I really like a song but have convinced myself it's not necessarily a crowd favorite, so it was a pleasant surprise to have those come up.

I did give myself the choice of the last song of the night, which was 'Photograph' by Ringo Starr. I essentially pulled this one out of thin air, having just seen Ringo's bizarre "No more fan mail, no more signing stuff. Peace and Love, Peace and Love" video he posted that day on his website. I wonder if anybody around him could have told him what a huge PR disaster that was going to be. And unnecessary - does anyone REALLY think Ringo is reading and responding to every piece of fan mail he gets? Are there folks who took that episode of 'The Simpsons' literally? Love ya Rich, but really bad move.

But, as they say, "one door closes, another opens". I was talking with Joy Askew outside after the show (Joy, btw, will be part of next Monday's theme: Special Guests) and she casually mentions "Oh, it's Ricky Fataar".

Now, Ricky Fataar has had a long and distinguished career - he was even a Beach Boy for a while in the early '70s - but to me there is one magical thing about him: HE'S STIG O'HARA FROM THE RUTLES!! I have now met a Rutle and my life, as they say, will never be the same. I realise some of you may not know of the Rutles. Google them. They will change your life.

I'm going to suggest the next tribute night we do at the Living Room is The Rutles. I mentioned this to Stig and his response was "Why?". I now have a Rutle anecdote.

When I last left you, dear blog reader, I was about to get out of the car in Cambridge, MA, after not getting paid in CT the previous night. I de-carred (hey, if it's called de-planing . . .) into a warm, sunshine-filled Autumn afternoon.

Marykate grew up in the area and so she took us around to a couple nice guitar shops. Despite some weak moments, I managed to escape with the same number of guitars and dollars as I went in with.

We then ran into Audrey Ryan, who was also playing, and went out to lunch together (check out my Facebook Mobile Uploads album for the fab ice cream sandwhich thing I had for desert). When they ran into each other both Audrey and Marykate were wearing black and white horizontal striped shirts (I believe you ladies may call them "tops"). It was only the quick thinking of Marykate who put on a sweater that saved our meal from an embarassing indie rock chick faux pax. After lunch, Audrey (who was a pleasure at lunch and played an amazing set) went home and changed shirts. In the immortal words of Bob Weir: "Tragedy narrowly averted."

When we got back to the club I had the opportunity to meet a couple fans, Stephen and his friend Melissa. They drove down from Maine to see the show, which was amazing enough, but also volunteered to sell cds (what we in the business call "doing merch") for everybody (and got the numbers and money right to boot!).

They brought with them a General Electric kids' record player to use as a display. This thing was cool - it pretty much looked like the plastic Fisher-Price model, but had ALL FOUR SPEEDS (16, 33&1/3, 45 and 78) which kicks the Fisher-Price's ass. They also had some 45s with them, including "I'm A Believer / Stepping Stone" by the Monkees, and when I mentioned that Marykate was a huge Monkees fan (she idolizes them) they insisted that she take it. Unbelievably sweet. Top this off with a huge pile of homemade baked goods Melissa made and Stephen asking if he could hug me and it was obvious these were some incredible music-loving folks. Thank you both so much.

Then came the show and it turned out that all those folks asking for a Boston area show for so long really did come out. The room was filled for the whole night and this was even with a Red Sox playoff game going on (sorry about how that turned out, Boston. I am pulling for you, at least until you face the Phillies in the World Series).

Everybody on the bill played terrific sets and when I came on after Marykate (who killed) to close the night I was a little afraid the room would empty out (it was late) or it would become "have a beer and talk during this poor sap's acoustic set" time (did I mention it was late?), but the whole room was into it and I got a great response.

Setting aside my record release shows, I haven't felt so positively about every aspect of a gig in a really long time, so thank you Boston, Lizard Lounge, Marykate and the rest of the musicians.

I'm almost to NYC as I write this. I hope tonight at The Living Room comes close to Saturday - it will be hard to live up to.