If the word “bluegrass” conjures up visions of conservative-looking guys with banjos and whiney tenor voices, then you’re partly right. However, there have always been women in bluegrass; it’s just that they sometimes labor in obscurity or even fail to get off their front porch. (And I’d love to expound on the reasons, but I’ll save that for another time.) The International Bluegrass Music Association (IBMA) just gave out most of their 2008 awards to men. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.

Two names that come up most when talking about women in bluegrass are fiddle player/singer Alison Krause and mandolin player/singer Rhonda Vincent. Both were nominated for Female Vocalist of the Year. They didn’t win. Best Female Vocalist went to Dale Ann Bradley (pictured below). Born in Kentucky, her career has included stints with the New Coon Creek Girls and now with her own band. Her clear voice is distinctive and definitely a few notches better than your average whiney guy tenor.

But those are for a category that has to include women. There were a few women nominees in other categories (like Rhonda Vincent’s band The Rage for Best Entertainer) but mostly, it was guyville. A shining exception was in the banjo category, won by Kristin Scott Benson. She won against four men, and girl howdy, can she play. She’s toured with Laurie Lewis and now has her own band.

Pop-folk singer-songwriter Dar Williams has a new release, and I’m positively giddy about it. Promised Land features her trademark thoughtful and candid observations of life but with a little harder musical edge than her previous releases.

You won’t find any screeching metal solos or the like, but she used Grammy nominee Brad Wood as her producer (Liz Phair, Sarah Bettens) so it’s going to be different than her previous effort, Honesty Room.

It’s not that Williams moved directly from earthy folk goddess to rocker queen — in fact, she’s never been the latter — but there’s been a gradual movement away from a simple girl-with-guitar style.

Wandering around art museums helped fuel some songs, as did the Milgram social psychology experiments in which people were asked to administer electric shocks to others. Williams got to thinking about why someone would conform to an experiment like that and wrote “Buzzer.”

Everyone has their list. Here’s mine — and no, it’s not a list of best make-out songs. Rather, it’s a list of songs that empower me — and maybe you — with clear woman-loving lyrics.

1. “I Kissed a Girl” — Jill Sobule. According to a recent article in Performing Songwriter, she really did kiss a girl. I love this bouncy singalong, and I love that it got so much airplay. Frankly, I just love Jill Sobule. I want to take her home and make her tuna casserole.

2. “Amazon” — Maxine Feldman. She called herself an out, proud, Jewish butch back when queer bars were raided on a regular basis. Her affirming songs and funny stage manner were a breath of fresh air. Nedra Johnson does a more modern version of the song that kicks major booty.

3. “Boinked (the Bride)” — Ember Swift. I love funny tunes and this one makes me burst into giggles every time.

4. “Ode to a Gym Teacher” — Meg Christian (pictured below with Cris Williamson). Who didn’t fall in love with their gym teacher? Oh, biceps!

5. “A Woman’s Love” — Alix Dobkin. She has so many out lesbian tunes and this is my favorite. I heard Therese Edell do this at one of my first women’s music concerts. Oh that sexy alto voice!

6. “Drive” — Melissa Ferrick. You knew I was going to include this one, right? You have to hear it live. If you’re not lusting after women before you hear it, you will afterward. (Hey, we do recruit.)

7. “32 Lines” — Sophie B. Hawkins. “I’ll lead you home / to Provincetown.” You sure can.

8. “If It Isn’t Her” — Ani DiFranco. I probably rewound this tape (yes, it was that long ago) a million times to hear this song. “I have been playing too many of those boy-girl games / she says honey you are safe here / this is a girl-girl thing.”

I was sitting around with some guitar students the other day and asked them to name a female guitarist. They couldn’t think of anyone. Granted, 10-year-olds aren’t that savvy when it comes to musicians, but even my adult students are hard-pressed to come up with anyone beyond Sheryl Crow.

I thought, heck, who are the top female guitarists? I consulted with a few people plus my opinionated self and came up with this list. I included women who really know their way around a fretboard and those who were innovators of a certain style. (I left out singer-songwriters who might be good at what they do but can’t blaze their way through a complex song.)

Emily Remler was a jazz guitarist who was at home playing fusion, bebop or whatever was thrown her way. She released her first album in 1981 and in the next few years worked with veterans like Herb Ellis and Rosemary Clooney. Sadly, she was only 32 when she passed away in 1990.

Laura Chavez is a blues guitarist who can make her instrument wail, moan and make you cry mama. Hot damn, she's good.

Sister Rosetta Tharpe looked like a prim gospel performer with her print dresses and conservative hairstyle, but she could wail on an electric guitar. Popular in the '30s and '40s, her style influenced many musicians, from Aretha Franklin to the Stones.

Most singer-songwriters don’t mess around with their guitar tuning but Jonatha Brooke is no sissy, using almost as many different guitar tunings as songs. Even if you’re not a guitar geek, you can hear how her work has an open feeling, like looking out over a broad landscape on a quiet winter day.

Brooke might have come on your radar when she was one half of The Story with Jennifer Kimball. Their first album, released in 1992, quickly gained broad appeal, as did their second. Brooke set out on her own after that, releasing six solo CDs. She’s done it again with The Works, a collection of songs written with Woody Guthrie — yeah, the same guy who penned “This Land is Your Land.” He’s been gone since 1967, but his daughter, Nora, opens his files of lyrics for handpicked musicians to use.

Brooke discovered a romantic side of Guthrie. She used those lyrics, sometimes taken from several different pages, and put them together. With whispery percussion and solid keyboards from Joe Sample, her wonderfully expressive voice and more, she recorded 12 songs. Also featured is blues guitarist/singer/songwriter Keb’ Mo’.

Grammy award-winning blues singer Irma Thomas scored hits in the early '60s, including “Time Is on My Side” (later covered by the Rolling Stones), but by the end of the decade, she was a single mother struggling to support four kids. Working at a department store, she recorded intermittently and then came back big in the '70s, to become known as the soul queen of New Orleans.

In 2005, Hurricane Katrina destroyed her house and nightclub, but just weeks later, she recorded After the Rain and snagged a Grammy. Just last month, she released Simply Grand. Girl howdy, it’s a great one featuring renowned pianists like Marcia Ball, Norah Jones and Dr. John. In fact, Dr. John played guitar on one of her first-ever recordings in 1959 (for “You Can Have My Husband [But Please Don’t Mess With My Man”]) and he’s back on this release, pounding the ivories for two songs.

Ever since I saw her energetic performance at a local club, I’ve been a fan of Marcia Ball’s swampy blues. Pairing her with a great singer like Thomas was genius and sure to garner repeated plays on my iPod.

Quick! Name a really great female guitarist. (I’ll wait.)

Hard-pressed? Sure, we’ve got a lot of guitar players, but if your mind goes blank after naming a couple of singer-songwriters, then you’re not alone. It’s the guys who usually take center stage, but not with someone like Vicki Genfan around. Last weekend, she was the only woman out of 10 finalists to compete for Guitar Player magazine’s Superstar 2008. Judges included guitar gods Steve Vai (Whitesnake, Frank Zappa) and Elliot Easton (the Cars). (Yeah, they’re men. You’re not surprised, right?)

The competition was held at the Great American Music Hall in San Francisco. Genfan was the sixth to play, dazzling them with her two-handed tapping technique on the acoustic guitar (one of only two finalists to play an acoustic). Women, this technique is hurt-your-fingers hard. She takes her right hand away from the body of the guitar and taps the strings on the neck then returns so quickly to slam out a flurry of notes that you’ll swear she has three hands.

It’s been off the air for a few years, but Buffy lives on for many of us. Give your fantasies a soundtrack and get the newly released Buffy the Vampire Slayer: The Score.

There are 29 tracks of scores from Seasons 2 through 5, including the Emmy-winning “Massacre” from Season 2’s “Becoming.” These emotional scores are composed by Christophe Beck, and feature guitar, viola, woodwinds and vocals. Slap this on your iPod, dress up in your best Buffy wear and defend against the forces of darkness, or at least look mysterious and nibble on your girlfriend’s neck. (Hey, light a few candles and you could get lucky.)

Alison Krauss is nominated for two CMAs, and she doesn’t even have big hair.

If you’re saying “Huh?" then you must not be a country music fan, because the Country Music Association's awards are bigger than Dolly Parton’s hair. (And you know the old saying: The higher the hair, the closer to God.) Alison Krauss is a singer/fiddler who’s been blazin’ some pretty fine trails since she burst on the bluegrass scene at the tender age of 14. Twenty Grammys later (and only in her 30s), she’s still kickin’ it and doing it as an independent. How twangin’ cool is that?

The CMA has nominated her for Female Vocalist of the Year (something she’s garnered three out of the last four years) and with Robert Plant for Musical Event of the Year. Yes, the Robert Plant from Led Zeppelin. But we'll have to wait until Nov. 12 to see if she's won.

Other nominees in the female vocalist category include Miranda Lambert, Martina McBride, Taylor Swift and Carrie Underwood. I’m rooting for Krauss, although I wouldn’t cry if McBride won. I’d like to see Swift finish high school first.

It’s taken me this long to recoup from last week’s finale. I’m still out of breath from screaming. (Actually, I missed last week because I was at a women’s music festival, romping in the woods with a few thousand half naked women. I know, you feel sorry for me.) What a season, eh? From sexy Cat Deeley to great guests (Jordin Sparks) to lousy guests (take the Pussycat Dolls, please) and last but certainly not least, some out-of-this-world dancing. Someone fan me and pass the ice cream while I go over a few highlights.

We started with auditions in six cities from the bad (Gold Inferno, anyone?) to the amazing (popper Robert Muraine, who bowed out of the finals). After a while, they morphed into one giant dancer but somehow, 20 finalists emerged from the wreckage, 10 girls (or “gulls” if you’re Cat) and 10 boys. They paired up and in the weeks afterward, danced everything from a waltz to hip-hop to jazz. Two new genres were introduced — Bollywood and a country two-step. The latter was weak, but the Bollywood dances, with their colorful costumes and fun moves, were a hit. I hope there’s more of that next season.

Regular judges Mary Murphy and Nigel Lythgoe were always there with a rotating group of guests including my TV girlfriend Mia Micheals and the Dumos. I could’ve done without Toni Basil’s pontifications about dance but I think she was only on once. While Murphy’s million decibel screams were sometimes annoying, I got used to her, like living on a busy street and not hearing the honking. Besides, we need someone to get worked up, it certainly wasn’t Nigel.

There were some great guest dancers like the L.A. Ballet Company (who did a gorgeous pas de deux) and the Alvin Ailey Dance Troupe.

Why yes, I do think I can dance but not like any of these finalists. Wow, were the performances amazing last night! The finale is next week. Let’s declare them all winners and go party. But no, life is cruel.

Adam Shankman was the guest judge and Cat Deeley was wearing little puff balls on the backs of her heels. At first glance it may seem like there’s no connection but believe me, my darlings, there is.

We get right to it with a waltz from Mark and Courtney that is so beautiful I gasp and sigh all the way through it. Courtney’s dress is wonderfully fluttery as Mark picks her up in some fabulous lifts. It doesn’t hurt that they’re dancing to one of my favorite American Idol contestants, David Cook, singing “The Time of My Life.” The judges love their dance. Murphy says the lifts look effortless and that Mark grows with every week. I agree.

Chelsie does a solo and really, what else can she do except hip swivel? But wait, she ends in the splits! Cool.

After the break, Twitch does a funny stylin’ hip-hop solo that includes a grill and glasses. Afterwards, Deeley asks to try on the glasses, then says she’d like the grill too, and that she doesn’t mind the spit. Twitch removes it and she pops it in. We get a few goofy grins before she pops it out, then makes a face about the after taste. “The things we do for art,” she exclaims. Too damn funny, that girl.

Katee and Joshua do a romantic contemporary dance choreographed by Tyce Diorio. It’s passionate and sexy, with lots of great leaps and lifts. Shankman confides that he met Diorio back in 1990 when they were both dancers at the Oscars. (There’s a quick view of Diorio in the audience who, interestingly, doesn’t look that excited about knowing Shankman. Maybe there’s a little tension between the two? Then he mentions Paula Abdul, who’s in the audience also but looks much happier.) He goes on to say that Katee and Joshua are the two most exciting dancers to ever grace that stage. Murphy thought their dance was filled with passion and Lythgoe is amazed that Joshua has had no classical training but can pull off a piece like that.

It’s the brutal second show of the week where someone has to go home and at this point in the season, how do you choose? Yeah, yeah, Comfort went home once so it’ll probably happen again but after that? It makes me want to close my eyes, like I’m passing an accident site. But I’m going to be adult about this and watch the whole program, just for all of you. Oh, the sacrifices I make.

The opening number is a hip-hop dance with a futuristic vibe. Decked out in black latex accented with strips of various colors, it looks like, um, one of those kind of parties, you know? But hey, it’s edgy and cool. The choreographer is Chuck Maldonado, a hip-hop jazz dancer who’s worked with many including Missy Elliot and Pink. It’s his first time working for the show.

Cat looks like a Greek goddess, with a draped white tunic that’s off one shoulder and a barrette that looks like wings. She flutters about the stage hugging dancers and emanating a golden glow that others merely orbit around.

Before the dancers come out, Lythgoe gives a statement about voting. He says that 97.5 million people voted in the American Idol final and 40 million have voted for So You Think You Can Dance. And he thinks that just maybe a few million people could register to vote and, oh I don’t know, vote for a president? (It’s funny that a Brit has to tell us that but he’s right. It’s easier than ever to register to vote so go do it, OK?)

On to the who-is-in-the-bottom-four drama. After many pauses and much hand wringing, we find out that the four dancers with the least votes were Comfort, Courtney, Twitch and Will. Will?! The anointed one? The Debbie Allen prince? America clearly doesn’t agree with the judges.

Mark is so sure he’s going home that when Deeley announces he’s safe he puts his hands to his face Macauley Culkin-style and says over and over again, “Oh my God.”

When Twitch’s name is announced, he falls to his knees with his back to the audience. Deeley goes to him and murmurs some sweet words until he gets up. His eyes are moist. Deeley hugs him.

It’s down to eight finalists on this week's So You Think You Can Dance and I’m curled up on my comfy couch with a carton of Ben and Jerry’s, spoon at the ready. Like last week, each couple will dance twice and each dancer will do a solo.

The guest judge is Toni Basil of “Mickey” fame. (Everybody chant: “Oh Mickey you’re so fine, you’re so fine you blow my mind! Hey Mickey!”) She didn’t die after her famous video but went on to choreograph for many including Bette Midler’s current Las Vegas show and soon, Tina Turner. Impressive credentials to be sure, but as the show goes on, I just want her to shut up. She’s so busy proving what she knows about different dance forms that it becomes more of a speech than a comment on the dancers’ performances.

First up are Will and Courtney hip-swiveling through a hot samba. I confess I missed a lot of the individual moves because I was focused on that dress Courtney was almost wearing. I’m convinced a herd of wolverines attacked her just before coming on stage and tore most of it off. Scratching my head, I wondered how those little patches were staying on the, er, important parts. Invisible wire? Duct tape? Super glue? Mama spit? At any rate, I guess they did a good job ‘cause Lythgoe said it was absolutely fantastic and Basil really enjoyed it. Murphy started off with a comment about how two contemporary dancers had become two samba dancers, then gradually increased in volume to 10,000 decibels. (More than 1,000 decibels and that means she loves it.)

Comfort solos next and gives us her best. I’d be impressed if she was dancing in a club but as a finalist on this show, I’m not. It was, however, interesting to hear her story about being a street dancer and being helped along by her brothers. She went to a performing arts school but hated the ballet and jazz classes. At least that gave her some training. Since she’s in the first slot, it’s a sure sign that the producers think she’ll be gone soon. (Generally that is the slot of death since those first up are least remembered by voters. I got that from the official guidebook for entertainment reality shows. Really.)

I want you to read the whole recap so I’m not going to spoil things but if I start screaming NOOOOO now, you’ll know what’s up. All right, you’re going to do it anyway so I’ll just start with this — Comfort does NOT go home. That’s right. Throw yourself on the ground and scream ‘cause that’s what I was doing when the news was announced. Really that’s why we watch the show, right? To see who goes home? The rest is just pretty filler. Let me talk about that for a while before we all have to moan about who’s leaving.

The show starts with a lively Bollywood number resplendent with colorful costumes. I love it. Afterwards the dancers run over to the side of the stage and part, allowing the beautiful Cat Deeley to glide in. She announces that three of their regular choreographers — Mandy Moore, Shane Sparks and Wade Robson — have been nominated for Emmys. Also nominated is their make-up team. How awesome is that? I’ve always known that this show has the best dancing on TV and this proves it.

The top five girls angst (I know it’s not a verb, stay with me here) their way choreography by Mia Michaels. They’re dressed like ragged angels and emote all over the place. I like the first part where they’re all seated at the edge of the stage, swaying their upper bodies, but then it digresses into something weird with a lot of rolling about. It doesn’t help that they’re dancing to Celine Dion singing “Ave Maria.” I won’t bore you with my Celine dislike.

The girls line-up afterwards while Deeley does the dirty work of announcing the bottom two and it’s Comfort and Kherington. There’s no surprise with the former and of the latter I think, well, they’ve got to try to create some drama even if there isn’t any. Everyone knows Comfort is going home. Yawn.

After the break Deeley announces that the boys will dance a number created by a mystery choreographer. Um, OK. They do a peppy Broadway number to Joe Jackson’s “Five Guys Named Mo.” It’s cute, especially at the end where a couple of dancers have jumped in the arms of another guy. Who’s the choreographer? None other than the resident guy-with-a-bad-haircut judge Nigel Lythgoe.

Hold on to your chocolate bars ladies, it’s time for us to decide who goes and who stays. Last night was the first time that our voting decides, not the judges. It’s also the first time we’ll see everyone do a solo. And if that wasn’t enough, the couples are parting ways and getting new partners. No more Twitchington? (Let me pause now for a dramatic hand to my forehead.) It’ll be interesting to see how this goes. I’ve stocked up on premium dark chocolate so I’m ready.

First, the big news: Jessica is introduced. Solemnly she tells us that she’s got a couple of broken ribs so no dancing for her for four weeks. (She doesn’t say how it happened although some speculate it’s because Will dropped her.) Jessica can tour, though, so that’s good. The bad? We’ve got another week of Comfort, who’s taking her place. Now, I’d love to hang with Comfort ‘cause I think she’s fun but this isn’t So You Think You Can Hang Out with Jamie.

Lil’ C is the guest judge. I’m not always sure what he’s saying (he talks in circles) but he’s entertaining and I like the krump choreography he did for Kherington and Twitch last week.

Courtney and Joshua do a cool hip-hop number by Dave Scott where Courtney plays a kind of monster with Joshua as her Dr. Frankenstein. I love the characters and they dance it very well. Lil’ C thought Joshua killed it and Courtney was good. Murphy screamed something that made my cats run from the room. Lythgoe commented that he’d never seen Dr. Frankenstein spank his monster. (Well Nigel, obviously you’re going to the wrong parties.) He went on to say that Courtney wasn’t as good as Joshua. Well duh, she’s a contemporary dancer so she’s not going to hit as hard as Joshua.

Chelsie does a solo next. It’s always tough for the ballroom dancers to solo but she pulled it off, even dropping to the floor once.

Kherington and Mark glide through a country two-step choreographed by Ronnie DeBenedetta and a very pregnant Brandi Tobias. (It was lovely to see Brandi move. I’ll bet the baby was doing the backstroke in there.) It was a little too pretty and smooth even if Mark looked tres cute in his jeans and hat. Lil’ C didn’t love it, Murphy used her pouty sad face and Lythgoe commented that Kherington was really leading, not Mark. (And there’s a problem with that?)

Next, Gev does a great solo hip-hop routine.