Scarlet Ribbin'

At least she didn't get obese.

You might remember her "mesmerizing gypsy" stare as she played the violin while Dylan shouted about "Hurricane," the guy who couldn't possibly have killed a bunch of people in a bar. Except he most likely did.

Does she sometimes wander into some small folkie club in Woodstock and sit in on some other has-been's set? And do five or ten white-haired hippies give her that smatter of applause? Sure.

She just doesn't sing...

"...and we all lose our looks in the end. But square-cut or pear-shaped those rocks don't lose their shape. Diamonds are a girl's best friend."

Diamonds yes. Royalties? Dream on.

If Scarlet had money to waste, she might've gone down to the Southwest Regional Folk Alliance Conference.

De what?

Just like there's no shortage of sad pay-to-play venues that record company execs don't visit (what, there ARE record company execs anymore?) there's no shortage of corny fairs, ridiculous outdoor festivals, and con-job MUSIC CONFERENCES.

Depressing, isn't it? Are you like me, have you heard of less than THREE of these acts?

(IF I'M BEING HONEST, I only heard of two of 'em).

So what's the deal: "It's a tax deduction. It's a chance to "network" with other singer-songwriters at least. If there's almost zero chance of even getting signed to an indie "roots" label, it's another chance to PERFORM."

The fab event takes place at a fucking Holiday Inn on "Middle Fiskville Road." Attendees get the special $95 room rate. Aside from the "showcase" people, dozens upon dozens more are gonna show up. To do what? Mill around conference rooms, sniff at desks where people are trying to sell their CD Baby garbage, or attend "lectures" given by people who USED to be in the industry and now have to travel around talking about how to get ahead?

Oh yes, Roland, tell us more: "$195 is the registration fee to attend, $25 is the added SHOWCASE fee, a special higher rate to be publicized in the conference booklet, and even MORE money to get your own "in room showcase," where people MIGHT shuffle in, stare at your CD-Baby garbage, listen to you sing, and nod wanly and leave.

Let's not forget an extra fee to take an AD out in the conference booklet, and don't forget you're responsible for your own food, and the fare for the bus to the train to the plane to the bus to the cab to the Holiday Inn.

No surprise that most of the dozens upon dozens attending this thing are Texans, most of them playing their hideous indie shit in freaky Austin clubs. Only a few are desperate or optimistic enough to actually fly in for it.

Of course you could stay home and bat your big brown eyes in an Internet photo and demand a fiverrrr to mewl a minute of a song and email it in an mp3 file.

Making it in show biz...it's easier than ever. Just pay-to-play and wait and see. And wait. And wait.