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The "Muddy Waters of Life" AI Could Never Write: Deb Callahan’s Real Deal, Chicago’s Lost Dance Show, and the Gritty Essence of the Blues It’s late, the kind of hour when the ice clinks against the side of a cheap glass of bourbon. Out in the world, people are making a fuss over rappers declaring their new albums are "AI-free," but forgive me—I’m a chronic addict who hasn't escaped the endless loop of three chords and twelve bars for nearly forty years. Besides, what smart algorithm could ever recreate the sorrow of a guy nursing a stomachache over tight deadlines and regretting last night's drinking binge? The blues can only ever be born from humanity's messy, screw-up-filled daily lives and the spark-flying heat of the moment. Tonight, for all of you who love that gritty reality, let me share a few deeply soulful stories. ### Philadelphia Night Breeze and Deb Callahan's "Honest Songs" …