Sometimes it's the little things, the strange things, the unexpected things arriving from unexpected places that spark a smile, brighten up a dreary winter day, reaffirm the reasons for what we do.

A few of those have turned up in the mail lately. Actually, one of them first surfaced quite some time ago – a magazine called Circumstantial Evidence, from Australia, one of the most bizarre publications I've ever come across. The first one they sent was a pocket-sized but quite-thick collection of odd stories, reviews, and beyond, with a cover designed to be sealed with a velcro strap.

More recently came a new issue, this one regular-sized but equally idiosyncratic, with type so small it was almost impossible to read. Still, I found myself browsing through it in amazement, tracing the whims of the co-editors, who call themselves Bo and Luke in an apparent homage to "The Dukes Of Hazzard." One of them went on for pages and pages about his current Dylan fascination. Yeah, I remember those days well.

Also coming from across the Pacific one day were two discs by a country-western duo from Tokyo called Petty Booka. The world just looks a whole lot different after you've heard two Japanese girls singing Junior Brown's "My Baby Don't Dance To Nothin' But Ernest Tubb". (Not to mention Gillian Welch & David Rawlings' "Barroom Girls", Joe South's "I Never Promised You A Rose Garden", the "King Of The Road" answer-song "Queen Of The House", and, how could we forget, Steppenwolf's "Born To Be Wild".)

Back on this side of the ocean, there's Random Acts Of Radio, a CD sent in by DJ Starfire, ringleader of a pirate radio station in, of all places, Duluth, Minnesota. His "Random Radio" show had a 13-month run before being shut down by the feds this past Independence Day (how's that for symbolism of American freedom?).

The CD gathers acoustic in-studio performances recorded at the station during its operating days. It's more on the indie-rock side of things than what we normally write about in these pages, and most of the acts are little-known or unknown. But damned if I didn't find myself putting Ida's version of "Walk Away Renee" on endless repeat for the better part of a day. The most beautiful version I've ever heard of one of the most beautiful songs ever written.

Head a few dozen miles northeast of Duluth and you'll hit the even smaller town of Escanaba, in Michigan's Upper Peninsula. There lies Mountain Retreat, a record label dealing exclusively in all things Mickey Newbury. Their latest offering is an eight-CD box set comprising the ten albums Newbury released from 1969-81.

Rest assured we'll be writing more about this once there's been time to fully digest its contents, but so far we've been stuck in a feedback loop on the first three discs: Looks Like Rain, Frisco Mabel Joy and Heaven Help The Child. There may be no more fully realized cyclical trinity of albums in American popular music.

The new year promises new releases from Wilco, Kelly Willis, Steve Earle & the Del McCoury Band, Hazeldine, and countless others, to be sure. But we'll also still be on the lookout for those things we least expect...

–Peter Blackstock

(For more info: Circumstantial Evidence:
paul_shane@hotmail.com; Petty Booka: benten@netlaputa.or.jp; Random Radio: www.randomradio.com; Mountain Retreat: Box 888, Escanaba, MI 49829)