If the terms Laurel Canyon, Asylum Record sand Doug Weston’s Troubadour ring familiar to you, then you already know J.D. Souther. A key figure in the same music scene that hatched the careers of Linda Ronstadt, Warren Zevon and Jackson Browne, Souther has found success as both writer and performer in his 40-year career.

Naming your band for someone that made an impression on you is the ultimate musical tribute. Lynyrd Skynyrd, Sister Hazel and Hootie & The Blowfish all named themselves in this manner, and The Dirty Guv’nahs have followed suit.

Alright, I know we’ve really been hammering the Secret Stages peg over here at Birmingham Weekly, but it’s only because in addition to being media sponsors of the festival, three of us are founding organizers of the thing.

We’re having a party for Bob Dylan’s birthday Tuesday night. You ought to come.

The only time I ever studied abroad was in Cleveland, in 1998.

Brother acts are not uncommon in pop and rock music. Eddie & Alex Van Halen, Ray & Dave Davies, Bob & Tommy Stinson and Angus & Malcolm Young are among the many family tandems that have placed their stamps on music history.

Everyone knows that the music industry is changing forever. Faced with emerging technology that makes the traditional model of record production obsolete, the entire business is undergoing a public soul-searching as well as a mad scramble to be the first to stumble on a new model that makes sense (and money) in the internet age.

We are a little less than a month out from Secret Stages, Birmingham’s newest music festival, which will be held May 13 and 14 in the heart of the loft district.

Matthew Mayfield is on the road, literally, when I contact him for our interview. He’s driving from Charlotte, N.C., to Knoxville, Tenn., as he tours the Southeast in support of Now You’re Free, his debut full-length solo album (Sweet Exchange Records).

If April 16 were National Refrigerator Store Day or National Radiator Store, this piece would take a radical turn toward the esoteric, but because it’s National Record Store Day, we shall stick to the mundanely arcane.