Bet you money the Cowboy Junkies have an in-joke about the different drug references used to described singer Margo Timmins’ dreamy voice. The phrase “narcotic haze” inspired this train of thought, and I like to imagine writers pouring over the thesaurus after rejecting “opium vocals” and “aural heroin.” Nevermind the adjectives, here’s the Cowboy Junkies. Taking the recent trend of performing of classic albums one step further, the Canadian family band re-recorded their seminal 1988 album, The Trinity Session, as Trinity Revisited. It was a brilliant move from a band that never showboated, depended on volume for effect, or had a Top 10 hit. They are substance with style, proof that variations on a theme and a limited vocal range can still define a band with elegant clarity and never a dull moment. “Twenty years down the line, we’re more confident as a band, there’s more aggression to what we’re doing, more attitude,” offers guitarist Michael Timmins, speaking from a hotel room in Flagstaff, Ariz. “Here we are, this is what we do.”

Fans of the Scoot Inn's Second Sunday Sock Hop take note. Event organizer Gabe Vaughn and partner-in-boogie Mike Hooker celebrate the grand opening of their new vinyl haven, Breakaway Records (1704 E. 5th St. #105), on Sunday beginning at 11am. The Eastside outlet, located directly beside Cafe Mundi, caters to fans of 1950s and 60s pop, girl groups, soul, and garage rock. The day-long extravaganza will feature both Vaughn and Hooker behind the wheels of steel, along with the Waxploitation! DJs and Heart & Soul Soundsystem. Plus, free beer while it lasts. Check out next week's Off the Record column for more.

MTV announced its "Hottest MCs in the Game 2008" last week. It’s always an especially sad occasion when this list comes out, considering MTV used to be on the cutting edge of the hip-hop scene with Yo! MTV Raps, which ran from 1988 to 1995. But now MTV’s on a completely different tip, and their take on hip-hop doesn’t carry the same weight. I wouldn’t be so disgruntled if Andre 3000 was a bit higher on the list, Lil’ Wayne had actually released an album, or Lupe Fiasco hadn’t botched Q-Tip’s “Electric Relaxation” verse at this year’s Hip-Hop Honors. The main problem is that MTV sees popularity and commercial presence as talent, so a guy like 50 Cent, whose 2007 release, Curtis, shows he has lost all lyrical capabilities, is considered “hot” because he’s got two video games, a Vitamin Water (which tastes like Dimetapp), a clothing line, and plans to release a line of female sex toys. Maybe MTV should stray from the beaten path a bit and use their presence to pay attention to those actually making waves: D.C.’s Wale, Atmosphere’s Slug, Clipse, and Black Thought. And please, please, please get Rick Ross off this radar.

Shearwater isn’t a rock band. Not in the conventional sense. What appeared onstage at the Parish last night was more like a chamber orchestra that used a virtual bathtub of non-rock instruments. I might be missing one or two, but that included a harp, hammered dulcimer, string section, oboe, xylophone, trumpet, and couple of different keyboards. This was all in service of recreating Rook (Matador), their new disc, which is already being hailed by the press as one of the albums of the decade. Songwriter and vocalist Jonathan Meiburg’s vision is melancholy, filled with overwhelming textures and shifting rhythms. A fascination with nature, birds in particular, gives his lyrics a murky depth, yet his melodies and uplifting tenor act as counterweight that draws the listener imperceptibly closer. Live, Rook was like shifting sands, from startlingly quiet to psychedelic sheets of feedback. MVP of the evening was Thor Harris, who's listed as a percussionist, but adds much more by beating, tapping, or rubbing anything nearby, including that hypnotic dulcimer. The illuminated tranquility of “I Was a Cloud” and “The Hunter’s Star,” a near-Beatlesesque lullaby, stood apart among Rook’s sumptuous calm and unrefined roar. After a short break, Shearwater returned as a fivepiece and played a 35-minute set of some older material, including songs from their much-loved Palo Santo. It was of a piece with what preceded it, but definitely showed that with Rook, Meiburg and friends have greatly exceeded any expectations of what they're capable of, while also re-imagining what a rock band can be.

In the new music model, as major labels get more and more desperate and "indie" means more "cool" and less "underground," album sales have given way to other ways of making money for the artists. It's not a case of Napsterism or file-sharing. Musicians have become more open to the idea of everyone hearing their music, as opposed to everyone paying for their music. No longer are people fooling themselves into believing in making millions of dollars off of multiplatinum records – unless they graduated from American Idol, natch.

The future of substance for musicians is in licensing. There is still money to be made off of touring, but with $130/barrel oil, those show dollars don't go as far as they used to. These days, it's difficult to turn on the TV and not hear the latest hype coming out of the speakers.

Last night, Rubble’s opening set for Suishou No Fune included former Butthole Surfers drummer Teresa Nervosa alongside King Coffey, perhaps a warm-up for the group's reunion this summer. It’s a shame more people weren’t there to hear that classic B.S. sound thrust through the speakers of Emo’s inside room. When asked how the show was afterwards, I blanked and blurted, "Like when you're cleaning your ears and stick the Q-tip in a little too far but it feels kind of good." With that description running through my mind, here's a handful of notable recent releases that have been doing a bit of the same lately. Cloudland Canyon Lie in Light (Kranky) Cloudland Canyon is one German (Simon Wojan) and one American (Kip Uhlhorn), and their cross-continental recording process makes this sophomore LP even more impressive. Thankfully, they have a sense of humor about the Teutonic overtones (take album opener "Krautwerk," a carbon-copy of a Neu! song), but they also take that kosmiche gaze and aim it at standouts "You & I," "White Woman," and "Heme" with addictive results. Boredoms Super Roots #9 (Thrill Jockey) For their Thrill Jockey debut, and first release in seven years, Japanese mentalists the Boredoms drop a live 2004 Christmas Eve set, featuring three drummers circling Yamatsuka Eye’s turntable exorcism and pitch-shifted samples of a choir. One track, 40 minutes, lots of repetition, and if you've never seen the Boredoms live, it's a good starting point. Also great for house-cleaning.

Times are tough. Down the street from my house, traffic was backed up on Duval and 45th in all directions yesterday because the corner convenience store was selling regular unleaded gas for $2.59/gallon. That would have been ludicrous just a few months ago. Del McCoury feels our pain, though. The bluegrass patriarch recently curated a compilation of hard-time tunes, Moneyland, which will be released in early July. Featuring artists like Merle Haggard, Emmylou Harris, Bruce Hornsby, and Mac Wiseman, the album is equal parts empathetic consolation and political outrage at a government that has left the common folks behind. Bookended by two recordings of FDR Depression-era Fireside Chats, the intent is clear. The politicians may dance around the idea of a recession, using every euphemism other than the truth, but the public knows when to call a spade a spade.

Last Friday was my first time seeing Dustin Welch & the House Band. It won’t be my last. With seven members, they crowded the Continental Club stage and, more importantly, the sound they made was gigantic, big enough to fill a space several times larger. Dustin is the son of Kevin Welch, the Okie songwriter who, following his son's lead, recently left Nashville for Central Texas. Where Kevin’s sound is spare and acoustic, Dustin’s is a forceful amalgam of Southern Gothic and back porch twang delivered with enthusiasm and a cloud of feedback fuzz. The twentysomething singer-songwriter moved to Austin in early 2007 because he claims he was playing more in Texas than in Tennessee. Catch his regular Monday night gig at Momo’s (check out the video below) before he starts playing on stages more appropriate to his colossal vision.

Here are a few more Chaos in Tejas snapshots from Chronicle shutterbug Sandy Carson, who braved the three-day storm at Emo's. Click through the gallery on the right.