6A — Tuesday, November 5, 2019
Arts
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com

By C.C. Burnikel
(c)2019 Tribune Content Agency, LLC
11/05/19

Los Angeles Times Daily Crossword Puzzle

Edited by Rich Norris and Joyce Nichols Lewis

11/05/19

ANSWER TO PREVIOUS PUZZLE:

Release Date: Tuesday, November 5, 2019

ACROSS
1 Works on a quilt
5 Team that won 
the Women’s 
World Cup in 
2019
8 Winter skating 
sites
13 Yawn-inducing
15 Melancholy
16 Love to pieces
17 Burr, to Hamilton
18 Black-and-yellow 
pollinator
20 Fodder for 
fantasy football
22 Cause for a 
handshake
23 Waited to be 
found, maybe
24 Tense tennis 
moment
26 Classroom staffer
27 Word after 
drinking or driving
28 Maple extract
29 Many an eBay 
user
31 Curtain holders
33 Jack of 
“Dragnet”
36 Honeycomb 
units
37 Volatile situation
40 Lion in “The 
Chronicles of 
Narnia”
43 Marquee name
44 24-hr. banking 
conveniences
48 Sits on the throne
50 Picture file suffix
52 Fish-to-be
53 Batting practice 
area
54 Body part that 
provides limited 
motion
58 Fire pit residue
59 “Soldier of Love” 
Grammy winner
60 Much paperwork
61 Mobile download 
for single people, 
and what the 
starts of 18-, 
24-, 37- and 
54-Across have 
in common
64 Takes a breather
66 Kagan on the 
bench
67 “Take that!”
68 Chuckleheads
69 Guitarist’s aid
70 Moth-eaten

71 “Pretty Little 
Liars” series 
novelist Shepard

DOWN
1 Pronoun for a 
mom
2 Way, way back 
when
3 Sparked, as 
one’s appetite
4 “Poison” shrub
5 Flash drive port
6 Riyadh resident
7 Jingle-writing 
guys
8 Veil of gloom
9 Poem from an 
admirer
10 Ritzy San 
Francisco 
neighborhood
11 Hanukkah toy
12 Farm machines
14 Traditional stories
19 Dugout rack 
items
21 Produce offspring
24 Spoil
25 Opinion pages
26 Echo Dot 
assistant
30 Prefix with friendly
32 Place for a play
34 Wager

35 North Carolina fort
38 Place for a stay
39 Court filing
40 Hangouts for 
video game 
players
41 Chef’s condiment
42 Not as heavy
45 Dietary 
supplement once 
pitched by Anna 
Nicole Smith
46 Centaur or 
chimera

47 __ foot in: enter
49 Fluffy rug
51 Norwegian inlet
55 Twin Falls’ state
56 Mount Everest is 
on its border with 
China
57 Layered cookies
59 Piece of cake
62 Once __ while
63 Deg. of 
distinction
65 Retirees’ benefits 
org.

In early 2019 Miranda Lambert moved to New 
York City, secretly married a police officer and got 
some new ink: A wildcard, the queen of hearts, 
on her inner right forearm. Cast as a “queen of 
heartbreak” by the media when her divorce from 
Blake Shelton in 2015 spurred a string of short-
term relationships, Lambert reclaims the narrative 
of her up-and-down love life by embracing it. 
In her latest album Wildcard, she puts life’s 
unpredictability into words against the backdrop 
of her move to the city and sonic exploration. 
Each song sounds different, but full and fun, all 
wildcards themselves.
The first track “White Trash” combats a common 
country music critique right off the bat. Yes, 
Lambert admits, she’s “upgraded from the barbed 
wire” fence for a “nice picket.” And yes, she only 
lives in Tennessee part-time. But that doesn’t mean 
she should lose her country cred. A funky mix of 
banjo and electric 
guitar, 
the 
song 
follows 
Miranda 
through her house, 
documenting 
the 
duct tape and dog 
hair, 
which 
she 
attributes to her 
upbringing. “New 
money, old habits” 
Lambert explains. 
“White 
Trash” 
establishes 
perspective, but “It All Comes Out in the Wash” 
sets the tone of the album. Fun and upbeat, Lambert 
declares herself a clean slate. “You take the sin and 
the men and you throw ‘em all in / And you put that 
sucker on spin,” she advises. With strong backup 
vocals and playful lyrics that address awkward 
incidents, Lambert lets her listeners know that the 
healing process doesn’t always have to be sad and 
lonely.
If “It All Comes Out in the Wash” is the car 
sing-along song for dealing with a break-up, 
then “Bluebird” is the diary entry of the record. 
Dark and determined, Lambert assures herself 
that when the next storm blows through, she’ll 
be able to handle it. “When the house just keeps 
on winning / I’ve got a wildcard up my sleeve,” 
Lambert winks. And, if the world were to stop 
singing, she promises to “keep the bluebird in my 
heart.” For those who don’t know, the Bluebird 
Cafe is a songwriter hangout in Nashville with a 

famous open mic night. With a slow and steady 
pace and lovely lyrics, the “Bluebird” showcases 
just that — Lambert’s talent for songwriting. 
A change in pace, “Locomotive” sounds like 
Lambert just stepped off the train in her new home, 
ready to throw down — “New York City seems 
O.K.” she declares. “Locomotive” is the closest 
thing Wildcard has to a rock song, and it also has 
one of the album’s most clever turns of phrase: “I’m 
sweet tea sippin’ on a front porch, sittin’ / while 
my hubby fries chicken / and I’m pluckin’ these 
strings.” Although this scene doesn’t quite fit in 
with city life, it sets up the following lyrics, “he 
gives me wings.” A play on the food and the joy she 
gets from being with her husband, Lambert’s voice 
soars alongside heavy instrumentation and the 
listener can’t help but feel happy for her.
Smirk-worthy lyrics set to a head-nod inducing 
groove, Lambert praises her band, her fans and 
everything in between in “Pretty Bitchin’.” It’s 
insanely catchy. And, even though it seems like she 
sings “pretty” every other word, it doesn’t get old. 
“Life’s pretty great, life’s pretty weird” she repeats, 
summing up her 
contentment.
However, 
Lambert 
acknowledges 
that her life hasn’t 
always 
been 
so 
great. On “Track 
Record,” 
she 
owns up to having 
a 
“Past 
that’s 
checkered / As the 
floor at the diner of 
Main Street” and chronicles her misadventures in 
love. But as messy as she says it is to be a “heart-
wrecker,” the song doesn’t sound like it. Instead, 
like a sunny Sunday afternoon drive, it’s bubbly 
and laid-back all at once. When Lambert claims “I 
can’t help it / I’m in love with love,” the listener 
can’t help but believe her.
The album’s closer finds Lambert in “Dark Bars,” 
an unexpected retreat into the shadows given all of 
the light in the songs that precede it. “I’m not in 
pain, I’m not on pills” she eases fears, “but I’m still 
hanging out in dark bars.” Despite being in a better 
place, Lambert admits that she can be “reckless” 
and “desperate.” So maybe it does make sense to 
end in melancholy reflection. Both the listener 
and Lambert know better than to think that all 
the storms have ended and that yesterday’s load of 
laundry was the last. But now this queen of hearts 
knows her own, and has an album of exploratory, 
lyrically-sound songs to show for it.

Miranda is playing new 
cards in her latest album

KATIE BEEKMAN
Daily Arts Writer

RCA NASHVILLE

MUSIC REVIEW

Wildcard

Miranda Lambert

RCA Records

Sunday, Oct. 27 witnessed Pokey LaFarge’s 
glorious return to Ann Arbor, headlining The Ark’s 
annual Fall Fundraiser. Described as a “pre-war soul” 
by the event’s Detroit-based MC, DJ Del Villarreal, 
and known to The Daily as our favorite musical time-
traveler, LaFarge was a welcome sight. For those 
unfamiliar, LaFarge, a borderline regular on the Ann 
Arbor music scene, is an artist who carefully walks 
the line between indulgence in nostalgia and new 
experimentation. His music, steeped in the age-old 
foundations of rootsy Americana, mixes dashes of 
jazz, old-time country with bright splashes of French 
and Spanish flair. 
Unsurprisingly, LaFarge put on a fantastic show. 
Equal parts crowd-pleasing, fun and vulnerable, 
the show filled the house and there wasn’t a frown 
in sight. But I have already done my fair share of 
Pokey-centric reviews, write-ups and headlines. 
There is little more to be said about the magical 
musical mastery LaFarge wields on and off stage. In 
fact, aside from a few sneak peeks at his upcoming 
album, LaFarge performed as expected — he’s 
always been a reliable, consistent artist. That’s not 
to say his performance at The Ark wasn’t all parts 
exhilarating and awe-inducing. Rather, what made 
this show worthwhile were the moments in between 
— in between songs, lyrics, people — that reaffirmed 
why Pokey LaFarge remains a beloved favorite both 
in Ann Arbor and around the world. 
Here are a few of these defining “Moments in 
Between:” 

You Gotta Earn It

The lights dim, the crowd took its seats and 
Ann Arbor’s “Honky Tonk Angel” took the stage. 
Polite and well-mannered, the audience waited in 
anticipation, bellies full, the room warm and drowsy 
— but drowsy isn’t in Pokey’s dictionary. “Get up,” 
heaving the crowd to their feet with a command — 
screw angels, it seemed the God of Folk had descended 
from his dusty mountain cabin this evening. The 
crowd stumbled to their feet, joints popping, backs 

cracking. “A pre-show stretch,” LaFarge encouraged; 
a satisfied sigh and a lazy groan answer. Grumbles 
turn to chuckles, “Make us earn it,” a heckler joked —
LaFarge gave nothing away for free. “The Devil Ain’t 
Lazy” opened the show — very subtle, Mr. LaFarge.

Chit-Chat 

The audience clumsily sang along, mistimed 
claps and slurred lyrics in all their glory. A devoted 
fan sang word for word with Pokey — by the third 
song, he threw her a playful, measured look, as if 
in silent acknowledgment of a capable foe, then 
continued playing. He asked us about the Michigan 
mitten — we obliged. “But what about the U.P.?” We 
all questioned, cueing a familiar existential crisis. 
The Lions won and the Giants suck; Pokey LaFarge 
sang “drinking tea from my paper cup;” “Sing Ave 
Maria,” a heckler called out — LaFarge responded in 
disbelief, and challenged his audience to come sing it 
instead. “And a clinking van is a happy van, I always 
say,” LaFarge instructed — and a clinking backpack 
is a happy backpack, I always say, when it comes to 
Friday hangovers. “Hold on, I got it,” LaFarge cried 
resolutely, obliging a song request then forgetting the 
lyrics — once, twice and third time’s the charm as the 
words finally flowed out. 

Drinkin’ Whiskey 

As patrons filed out the doors, the dedicated — 
the old-hats — waited patiently. Chants of “Encore, 
encore” gradually grew in momentum. Half the 
room was empty, doubt crept in — would Pokey really 
leave us hanging, just like that? It was as if we were 
all jilted lovers, taken by surprise, betrayed. Then, 
when hope grew most bleak, LaFarge ambled back 
on stage — only to hop right off. Climbing onto a 
chair and gathering us around like a flock of sheep, 
he strummed his guitar for one last song. “We’re 
drinkin’ whiskey tonight,” the audience danced 
feverishly around him, as if in ritual. Patrons happily 
belted “Drinkin’ whiskey” in bawdy drinking-song 
style. We danced with Pokey, we danced with one 
another: Eyes smiling, teeth flashing — it was a 
moment of pure revelry, unfiltered happiness. Who 
needs whiskey when you got good music?

Live at The Ark: Pokey
LaFarge & hella whiskey

Last week I waited with bated breath 
for the final star of Halloween’s night sky 
to melt into the morning sun of Nov. 1. Put 
your skeleton decorations away, people. 
The winter solstice fast approaches! 
I may be known amongst friends for 
having a particular proclivity for the 
holiday season, but it’s not just Christmas 
carols and Thanksgiving turkeys that put 
a smile on my face. It’s also definitely not 
the aisles of environmentally unfriendly 
wrapping paper and plastic fall-themed 
wreaths, either. 
There are plenty of drawbacks to the 
most wonderful time of the year. Among the 
upticks in stress and trips home to childhood 
dining 
rooms 
lie 
conversations 
with 
relatives who insist you’re still growing and 
elders who question your career prospects. 
In between these unfortunate details we — 
the college student body — learn to create 
magic within the cracks of campus life. 
This brings me to the holy grail of the 
university holiday season: Friendsgiving. 
How has this unconventional holiday 
become so emblematic of the holiday 
season? Is it the potluck dinner of ramen 
and instant mashed potatoes? Or, perhaps, 
it’s the leftover Halloween candy hiding on 
the top shelf, or a trip to South Quad’s taco 
bar. Maybe it’s literally just wine. 
The beauty of this holiday lies in its 

open-endedness. Its flexibility matches our 
youthful rejection of tradition, but make 
no mistake; its importance does not go 
unnoticed. 
Together, we inhabit Ann Arbor in 
communal states of elongated temporal 
existence, ever-avoiding the concept of 
impending graduation. This holiday season, 
take time to remember this fact not out of 
sadness, but for specified appreciation of 
its uniqueness. 
Look away from your papers and 
flashcards and too-long readings to bask 
in the ease of finding a night for everyone 

to convene in the same place on someone’s 
floor — and apologize to the downstairs 
neighbors for the noise it might cause. 
In this spirit, here are some of the people 
I am thankful for: 
The friend who reads all my Daily 
articles without me telling her I’ve written 
them. 
The friend who works at Starbucks and 
recently brought home an entire carton 
of the Strawberry Refresher concentrate 
because he knows it’s my favorite drink. 
The old roommate who once taped a 
stuffed animal to our dorm-room ceiling 
while I was asleep because she knew it 
would make me laugh in the morning. 
The friend that I met in a sleepy English 
class who texted me her summer address 
last May so we could be old-fashioned pen 
pals. 
The friend who recently told me to think 
of myself as an extra large Mission-line 
flour tortilla, whereas my ex-boyfriend is 
the small store-brand corn alternative. 
The friend who I met while studying at 
a different university, but will Facetime me 
exactly when she knows I need it the most. 
My twin brother, who lives across the 
street from me and convinced me to transfer 
from a school where I was truly unhappy. 
And to everyone else who I continue 
to meet far into my college years. To the 
friends who may be strangers today but 
I might one day call family, all thanks to 
this crazy little microcosm of Southeast 
Michigan.

ZOE PHILLIPS
Daily Arts Writer

THIRD MAN RECORDS

CONCERT REVIEW

Final papers and finding thanks:
An analysis of ~Friendsgiving~

MADELEINE VIRGINIA GANNON
Daily Arts Writer

COMMUNITY CULTURE NOTEBOOK

COURTESY OF EMMA CHANG

