tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-75693967539175466372024-02-07T09:10:34.877-08:00The Sound of BlackbirdsWe like to talk about music--mostly of the folk and acoustic variety--from our home bases in Urbana, Illinois; South Hadley, Massachusetts; Minneapolis, Minnesota; New York, New York; and Portland, Oregon. The name of the blog comes from a lyric written by Tracy Grammer, from her song "The Verdant Mile."Matt Wintershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06800809930302332420noreply@blogger.comBlogger617125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7569396753917546637.post-47575991661443706162013-04-17T14:18:00.003-07:002013-04-17T14:18:54.661-07:00The Flatlanders @ Carnegie Hall, New York City, April 13th, 2013<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br />
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Saturday night, I made the trek up the NJ Turnpike to the big city to see The Flatlanders play at Carnegie's Zankel Hall. This was my first time setting foot in Carnegie Hall; not once in my 8 years living in New York City did I make my way there. The pretentiousness was not as stultifying as I feared it might be, although I imagine the Stern Auditorium is a different story. The nature of the act also offset any snootiness: Texans are not known for that, and there were plenty of Texans in the audience on Saturday night.<br />
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This was my first time seeing any of The Flatlanders' principals--Jimmie Dale Gilmore, Joe Ely, and Butch Hancock--play live, to say nothing of the trio. I can't remember how I first learned about their music. I remember hearing JDG sing "Jesus Christ" for one of the Woody Guthrie celebrations about a decade ago and being impressed, and I recall WFUV playing "Julia" from the <i>Now Again</i> album quite a bit when it came out in 2002. On a whim, I bought a used copy of Joe Ely's <i>Live at Liberty Lunch</i> (1990) at a record store in Montague, MA, back when I lived in Pioneer Valley, and I spent a lot of car rides listening to it. But not as many as I spent listening to JDG's album <i>Spinning Around the Sun</i> (1993), which was my music of choice last year, as I drove from Portland to Brunswick 3 or 4 days per week. I've grown to love that album without limits; it's perfect, song for song, arrangement for arrangement. I also heard the Flatlanders' album <i>Wheels of Fortune</i> (2004) while living in the Valley, and I fell in love with it immediately. I love <i>Now Again</i> (2002) almost as much.<br />
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On Saturday night, the Flatlanders performed a mixture of new and old material, but the phrase "new and old material" has little meaning when it comes to these guys. Their first official album release from 1990,<i> More a Legend than a Band</i>, comprised songs originally recorded in 1972, and their most recent album, <i>The Odessa Tapes</i> (2012), was also recorded in 1972. Many of the songs on both of those albums have been recorded by one or more of the principals since 1972, sometimes several times over. I recognized as many as half the songs, but not a single song was anything less than satisfying. The opener was "I Had My Hopes Up High," which, I later learned, Joe Ely recorded for his first solo album back in 1977. I had never heard it before, and I loved it so much, I was sorry for it to end. For the first half dozen songs, pretty much everything was uptempo, from the sly, silly Butch-led "Baby Do You Love Me Still?" to the JDG-led "Wavin' My Heart Goodbye" to Joe's "Not That Much Has Changed" and Butch-led "Julia" and Joe-led "Homeland Refugee." After that, the backing band left, allowing the principals to sit on stools and strum and pick on their acoustic guitars, before the band returned for another half dozen or more songs.<br />
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The acoustic segment of the program was extraordinary in its beauty, restraint, and conversational looseness. Transcendence was achieved immediately, by way of Butch Hancock's "Danglin' Diamond." This performance I can only describe as indescribably beautiful. The song was barely even there; only the feeling of time having passed and opportunities taken up and forgone. Joe sang lead on Jimmie's "Tonight I Think I'm Gonna Go Downtown," one of the most beautiful songs ever written, complex in its simplicity (whereas Butch insists on simple complexity). Butch sang his own "If You Were a Bluebird," which I'm used to hearing Joe sing. Overall, they performed six songs in the acoustic set--two rounds of round-robin--interspersed with some chat about the old days. Joe was particularly poignant, talking about his rambling around Texas and the rest of the continent after the group's demise in 1973. He first made it to NYC in the winter, sometime in the mid-1970s, panhandling in front of Carnegie Hall, making that the first time he played at Carnegie Hall, although this was the first time he'd ever played "<i>in</i> Carnegie Hall." After the sextet of songs, the band returned to the stage, and the trio began a slow, acoustic version of "Dallas," before the band kicked the song into gear after the first verse.<br />
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One of the unexpected pleasures was the guitar playing. Not only did the band have a hot electric guitar player--Robbie Gjersoe, who tore off solo after solo with obvious joy--but Joe Ely had his time in the spotlight too. Of the three principals, he is the one who has spent the most time in a rock n' roll spotlight, and it showed. He had some tasty leads during the acoustic portion of the show in particular.<br />
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But it was the songs that ruled the day on Saturday night, along with the overall feel of command and authority that is so difficult to define or anticipate but which is immediately identifiable when you hear it. Joe preceded "Homeland Refugee" with the story of the song's inspiration: a child of Texas natives who'd fled to California, looking for work after the dustbowl years of the 1930s, returns to Texas, a state that the child had never known. As it happens, I recently had a conversation with a colleague about the children of Albanians living in Greece who, in the wake of the current financial crisis, have "returned" to Albania, a country they've never known. I was also delighted with "Pay the Alligator," one of the silliest songs in the Flatlanders' cannon and, to finish off the set, the standard "Sitting on Top of the World." That last one was performed uptempo with some hot electric guitar solos, which is the most common way of performing that song these days. Chris Smither has claimed that song as his own, having extracted the pain and suffering from the lyrics and laying them bare. But it sounded just fine as a rocker on Saturday night. During "Thank God for the Road," the gentleman seated to my right exchanged satisfied glances with me, as Butch sang of "shoulders to cry on." By the time the band encored with "Midnight Train," I already knew that this was the best night of live music I've enjoyed in over a year.Nick Toloudishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05638120254852746608noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7569396753917546637.post-36524208136384018822013-02-24T04:22:00.002-08:002013-02-24T04:22:29.846-08:00Kalamazoo GalsLongtime stalwart of the NYC bluegrass scene Jack Hirschorn calls the following to our attention:
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNUe_-um62LA-FRsD_OE_5tTVNM_ZsJyy447kdSu8D22ftt-DUOaFdR5ALgBSDnXDUG05JMM09llJ0vBg8rnnAk3PW8tGUGS9QnWPidz3Mv1o9gQ2y25jKSsX_Pbq85QdLO3c7waJ59wQ/s1600/Retro.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNUe_-um62LA-FRsD_OE_5tTVNM_ZsJyy447kdSu8D22ftt-DUOaFdR5ALgBSDnXDUG05JMM09llJ0vBg8rnnAk3PW8tGUGS9QnWPidz3Mv1o9gQ2y25jKSsX_Pbq85QdLO3c7waJ59wQ/s640/Retro.jpg" width="222" /></a>"Kalamazoo Gals” by John Thomas is the forgotten story of the women who built Gibson’s “Banner” guitars during WWII. </blockquote>
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Please join us for an informal gathering and book signing in a unique setting:
<b>Retrofret Vintage Guitars</b>. Located in the industrial Gowanus Canal section of <b>Brooklyn, NY</b>, Retrofret will honor Women’s History Month and the release of Mr. Thomas’ book on <b>Sat. March 2, 2013 from 5PM to 8PM</b>.
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"Retrofret is uniquely connected to the subject of Mr. Thomas’ new book, ”Kalamazoo Gals”, for many reasons: First of all we have quite a thing for old Gibson guitars! Retrofret is one of the few major guitar shops dealing exclusively in vintage instruments. Secondly, our repair shop happens to be run by a woman and our staff includes three female technicians handling most of the repair and restoration work. Finally, I just love the true stories behind the guitars - especially the little known ones." - Steve Uhrik</blockquote>
Matt Wintershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06800809930302332420noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7569396753917546637.post-86553928063935540832013-02-15T18:43:00.000-08:002013-02-15T18:43:54.612-08:00Chris Smither @ World Cafe Live, Philadelphia PA, February 8th, 2013<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br />
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As I type this, I am listening to the album <i>Don't It Drag On</i>, Chris Smither's 2nd album, originally released in 1972. Until now, I've never listened to it from beginning to end. One reason for that is the unavailability of the album; I found a copy from a used CD store via amazon.com. But another reason is that Smither rerecorded almost every song on the album, mostly for the 1990 live album <i>Another Way to Find You</i>. Two of the them show up on his most recent album, <i>Hundred Dollar Valentine</i>, as new studio recordings. But on <i>Don't It Drag On</i>, all of them sound like the work of a young old man, like Neil Young had decided that blues and bluegrass were the way to go after all. His voice hadn't quite filled out yet--or at least it doesn't sound like it on this recording--and the foot-tapping had not yet become an important part of his sound. So it doesn't sound like the man who recorded <i>Another Way to Find You</i>, or anything after. But the arrangements--eerily austere on "Another Way to Find You," gently propulsive on "Don't It Drag On," mournfully elegiac on "Every Mother's Son," tightly bluegrassy on "Friend of the Devil"--are winners, every one. And the songwriting and the guitar picking are the brilliant flashes that he's been coming up with ever since he began recording again with <i>It Ain't Easy</i> (1984). And in the end, although I love the way his voice has changed as he's aged, even the somewhat thin vocal sound on this album (and on its predecessor, 1970's <i>I'm a Stranger Too!</i>) feels right somehow.<br />
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At the World Cafe this past weekend, the 68 year old was in fine voice. The thick, slightly slurred baritone felt warm and comfortable, like it always does. The pleasures of his performances don't quit over the course of 90 minutes, and they'd probably still feel fresh after 120. "Open Up" has become the standard way for him to greet audiences for many years now, and "Lola" is a common follow-up, and everything seemed to unfold effortlessly from there. His sets still emphasize newer material, from <i>Drive You Home Again</i> (1999) up through <i>Hundred Dollar Valentine</i> (2012). For the fans, there are few surprises. Once, he dipped back to the <i>Up on the Lowdown </i>(1995) album for "Can't Shake These Blues." When he was ready to conclude with what has become his standard farewell, "Leave the Light On," requests for "No Love Today" echoed through the room, and he obliged, playing both of them to close the set. He returned to play J. J. Cale's "Magnolia," a simple love song that, he explained, signified that he was getting himself ready to write the material for his next album.<br />
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The high points were plentiful. The newer "Place in Line" elicited murmurs and sighs of appreciation. His waltz-time version of "Visions of Johanna" had the feel of complete command. "Leave the Light On" is always a climactic moment, and it was on Friday night. "Seems So Real" once again felt tougher and more strident in concert than on record. And the concluding "Magnolia" radiated love. Hearing Chris Smither perform in concert is an essential experience for anyone with an interest in this kind of music, and as he ages, each performance feels increasingly special. "Since space and time are bending / there's no finish line," but eventually there will only be a body of recorded work left behind, and the memories of these performances. I've seen around 20 of them, but they aren't enough. I am not looking forward to a time when they'll have to be.Nick Toloudishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05638120254852746608noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7569396753917546637.post-42737473501344051472013-01-27T19:53:00.000-08:002013-01-27T19:53:16.718-08:00Erin McKeown @ Johnny Brenda's, Philadelphia PA, January 20th, 2013<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br />
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An impromptu decision to ignore my raging head cold and wander out into the chilly Philly streets to see <a href="http://www.erinmckeown.com">Erin McKeown</a> wound up paying off. This was my first trip to <a href="http://www.johnnybrendas.com">Johnny Brenda’s</a>, a venue I’d been hearing good things about since I hit town back in June, and it’s right on my street, albeit over a mile away. The performance space is upstairs from the bar and small. The stage is big relative to the rest of the area, and there’s a balcony that I could not see much of from my station on the floor, where I leaned against a pillar for the entire evening and stifled my coughing and sneezing. Johnny Brenda’s gets good acts. I had to miss David Wax Museum when they came through town, but this was where they played.<br />
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Erin’s opening act was a Canadian singer and guitarist named <a href="http://jenngrant.com">Jenn Grant</a>. She performed with a drummer, a bassist, and a guy who alternated between steel, keyboards, and guitar (a beautiful cherry-red Epiphone that I wanted to get my hands on). Her band was good. They were clearly supporting her songs, staying out of the way and letting her put the words across. Her voice was a bit too quiet in the mix, though; I couldn’t often make out the lyrics. At the end of her set, the rhythm section departed, leaving her and her keys-man alone on stage for the finale; “a rock song,” as she put. This wound up being “Eye of the Tiger,” which I recognized immediately. At first, I couldn’t tell if she was trying to play it straight. She gave herself away, though, when she hit the refrain and pawed the air at us as she sang the word “tiger.” We all laughed.<br />
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Erin McKeown is someone who knows how to simultaneously play it straight and put you on. She’s been making music professionally for around 15 years now, and her album, <i>Manifestra</i> (2013), which I have yet to hear, is full of political songs. I was excited to learn this. Her best albums display not just emotional complexity and a real facility for arranging music, but an ironic wit that, in theory, should serve politically themed songs really well (at least, it seems to work for Randy Newman). Her albums are basically divided into two groups: the ones about herself (<i>Hundreds of Lions</i>, <i>We Will Become Like Birds</i>, <i>Distillation</i>), and the ones about something else (anti-Christmas, American popular song, Judy Garland). The new one appears to be one of the latter ones, and that leaves this particular admirer with a quandary. In principle, I like hearing singer-songwriters get outside themselves a bit. But in practice, the more into herself her gets, the better Erin’s music becomes; <i>Hundreds</i>, <i>Birds</i>, and <i>Distillation</i> are her best. Her Sunday night show leaned heavily on the new album, and the only other songs she performed came from the three great ones. In any event, what makes her best music so great is her ability to straddle the line between sincere emotion and ironic distance. Most performers choose one or the other, and the few who try to split the difference don’t usually succeed the way Erin McKeown does.<br />
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Sunday night, she was accompanied by a horn player and a drummer. The drummer in particular was really good. I thought back to Allison Miller, who was playing with her when I saw her at Southpaw, many years ago, and the drummers who played with her during her <i>Distillation</i> 10th anniversary show at the Iron Horse a couple of years ago. Erin likes a good drummer. And this one made his presence felt from the very first song, "Aspera."<br />
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After “Aspera,” Erin took us through a bunch of the new songs and told stories about them as she went. A particularly jaunty one, “The Jailer,” was a highlight. She also revealed an unanticipated enthusiasm for the NFL. When an audience member informed her that the Ravens won, she announced it to the crowd, to a smattering of cheers and boos. She remarked that she would never again talk to a Philly crowd about sports. But later on, she did. “I hate the Patriots,” she confided to us, a pretty safe thing to say in Philadelphia. And, at one point, her band left the stage, leaving her to take a couple of crowd requests. “That is the best feeling in the world,” she said, after the calls for different songs filled the air. “Beautiful (I Guess)” was beautiful, performed solo. And she dedicated “The Little Cowboy” to her opening act, after a few false starts that required some guitar retuning.<br />
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What else? A handful of songs from <i>Hundreds of Lions</i>—which I rank #2 in the Erin McKeown discography, after the extraordinary <i>Distillation</i> and in front of the superb <i>We Will Become Like Birds</i>—which all sounded great. A little bit of singing along with “We Are More,” from <i>Birds</i>. Some commentary about the US-Mexico border and, in response to an audience question, some insight into what inspires her. Two performances of the new song “Proof,” first done straight and second done backwards. A great instrumental jam, during which Erin sat down next to the drummer and grinned at him as her guitar wove in and out of the percussion.<br />
Nick Toloudishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05638120254852746608noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7569396753917546637.post-17411741109473504652012-12-21T11:21:00.001-08:002012-12-21T12:01:30.056-08:00Hot Tuna @ The Beacon Theater, New York City, December 1st, 2012<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br />
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Over the past decade or so, Hot Tuna has passed into the realm of comfort food. I do not listen to the recordings as often as I used to, but Tuna at the Beacon may become an annual tradition for me. This was my 5th (or 6th?) time at the Beacon for Hot Tuna since the fall of 1999, and I have yet to be disappointed. This year’s show was important for a few reasons. First, it was my first Tuna show since the release of <i>Steady as She Goes</i> (2011), the band’s first studio album since <i>Pair-a-Dice Found</i> (1990). While I’ve heard Jorma perform some of the songs from this album in solo performances, I had yet to hear most of them performed with the full band. Furthermore, this show included a number of special guests, some of whom I’d heard play with Tuna before, others not. My last Tuna show was the 70th anniversary bash at the Beacon, detailed <a href="http://soundofblackbirds.blogspot.com/2010/12/hot-tuna-beacon-theater-new-york-city.html">here</a>, and, much as I love the Jorma solo shows I’ve seen in the meantime, it’s his band that means the most to me.<br />
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The show began about 10 minutes past 8:00, when Jack Casady walked out on stage alone. After thanking us for coming and saying a few respectful words about New York, especially in light of Hurricane Sandy’s devastation, he began playing some bass guitar alone on stage. Two minutes into the solo, Jorma Kaukonen, Barry Mitterhoff, and Larry Campbell walked onstage and began picking out the familiar opening to “Hesitation Blues,” which elicited enormous cheers from us all, and off we went.<br />
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This edition of Hot Tuna included the core band—Jorma, Jack, Barry, and Skoota (my favorite of the many drummers that have passed through the band)—and this evening featured many special guests: G.E. Smith, Larry Campbell, Teresa Williams, Lincoln Schleiffer, Bob Margolin, Bill Kirchen, and the wonderfully named Cindy Cashdollar. The material from <i>Steady as She Goes </i>prominently featured Larry and Teresa, particular the latter’s harmony vocals. Larry Campbell played some killer violin, starting with the opening number, and he sat down to do some pedal steel on a couple of tunes. His guitar playing, meanwhile, is superb, and if you have not heard the recording of Tuna’s Beacon shows from 2010, which include his tasteful licks on “Genesis,” among other Tuna classics, you are missing out. But he and Teresa shone most brightly when, in the middle of the first set, they did an extended jam on the Grateful Dead’s “Sugaree,” a great surprise. Bob Margolin was a guitarist in Muddy Waters’ touring band back in the 1970s, and he contributed some fine solos, particularly on “Rock Me Baby,” and a couple of his own songs, most prominently “She and the Devil,” in which Bob gets down on his knees to pray: “Lord, give me strength / don’t let me kill this woman,” later followed by an assurance: “someday she'll surely go to hell.” Bill led the band on Dylan’s “The Times They Are A’ Changing,” another nice surprise, and Cindy played some mean lap steel on that one and on a couple of others. But the greatest contributions, I thought, came from “George,” as Jorma called him (and that *is* G.E.’s name, after all). His loud, distorted chords on “I See The Light” and “Hit Single #1” made those two the real highlights of the first set, and his solos on “Rock Me Baby” and “Bowlegged Woman” stole the show. And in the second set, he brought Richard Shindell’s “Arrowhead” to life. I hope he gets to play with these guys more often.<br />
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Since I’m a Hot Tuna fanboy, it’s hard to write about the band without simply raving. These guys are instrumentalists without peer, and it’s such a treat to hear Jorma, in particular, play electric guitar. His sound is very much his own, and it hasn’t changed too much in the past 45 years (at least not to my ears). The guitar solos (and let us never forget, Jack Casady’s bass solos) were consistently exciting, but it was the ensemble playing that I liked most. “I See the Light” is a thing of beauty, and G. E.’s contributions rocked the song like I haven’t heard before, and his contributions were every bit as great to “Hit Single #1,” which is also Barry Mitterhoff’s moment to shine. Other than those two, and the electrified version of “Keep Your Lamps Trimmed and Burning” toward the end of the second set, my favorite moment was when Larry played pedal steel and Teresa sang harmonies on “Bar Room Crystal Ball.” If my memory serves me correctly, the last time I heard them play this song was my first Tuna show back in the fall of 1999 (at the Beacon), and it’s one of my favorite, most lyrical moments from the <i>Yellow Fever</i> (1975) album. I see <a href="http://tunabase.com/setlists/1999/19991127.html">here</a> the set list from that show; time flies! <br />
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Hot Tuna doesn’t tour the electric band as often as they used to, so get it while you can is my advice. <br />
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Nick Toloudishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05638120254852746608noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7569396753917546637.post-53812518785641433072012-12-03T10:06:00.001-08:002012-12-03T10:06:06.004-08:00Rodriguez @ World Cafe Live, Philadelphia PA, October 28th, 2012<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br />
</div>After a hectic travel day from Portland, ME to Philadelphia PA that featured a delayed flight and plenty of worry about whether hurricane Sandy would strand me up north, I made it down to World Café Life with Amanda to see Rodriguez. I had imagined that we were like most of the folks at the venue in that we first became aware of the great man through the recent movie, <i>Searching for Sugarman</i>. In fact, given how knowledgeable many audience members seemed to be about his music, I sense that Amanda and I were behind the times. Given that Sixto Rodriguez has been touring on and off since 1998, when he made his first visit to South Africa, this is really not too surprising.<br />
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Rodriguez’s performance was relaxed and quietly confident. He opened the show with “(You Give Me) Fever,” performed with some nifty strumming on his nylon-string guitar. Much of the rest of his set consisted of switching between his own songs and covers of traditional rock songs (“Blue Suede Shows”) and ballads (“It’s Just One of Those Things” and “I’ve Only Got Eyes for You”). He performed these covers with a lot of enthusiasm and remarked that these songs meant a lot to him. His own songs—“Crucify Your Mind,” “Establishment Blues,” “Sugarman,” “I Wonder,” “Inner City Blues,” and others that I could not identify but the audience seemed to know—felt different, as stripped away from the elaborate arrangements on <i>Cold Fact</i> (1970) and <i>Coming from Reality</i> (1971). The ethereal imagery and turns-of-phrase of his own songs contrasted strikingly with the more plain-spoken oldies that he enjoyed so much.<br />
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The overall feel that Rodriguez exuded in his performance was of a man who was simply happy to be there. Pretensions were limited, and so was stagecraft. He stood and smiled at us. He retuned the guitar after almost every song, turning down the volume to pick and strum the next song just for himself, making sure he knew what he was doing before turning the volume back up to play for the rest of us. He told corny jokes and stories—about Mickey and Minnie Mouse going to marriage counseling, about how to keep successful relationships together, about the unfortunate city of Detroit, about his own luck at getting to play music for a living at his late age—that his audience, me included, ate up and applauded. He mentioned his performance on David Letterman, pointing out that the full arrangement of “Crucify Your Mind” would have sounded even better if he had not been playing at all. The self-deprecation might have sounded self-serving from another performer, but knowing what we all know about the decades he spent away from professional music, it was a poignant reminder of how challenging his life has been. I sense that that is what a lot of his current audience actually hears. Rodriguez is a survivor, a soulful, big-hearted professional who for too long was denied the vessel best suited for his self-expression and managed against the odds to resume his calling. His songs are good, but they pale in comparison to the example set by his life.<br />
Nick Toloudishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05638120254852746608noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7569396753917546637.post-58623636231853846342012-10-19T07:32:00.001-07:002012-10-19T07:32:45.397-07:00Fourth Annual Champaign-Urbana, Illinois, Folk and Roots Festival November 2-3<p>Urbana, Ill. (October 4, 2012) – Now in its fourth year, the Champaign-Urbana Folk and Roots Festival (CUFRF) is coming to Downtown Urbana on November 2-3.
<p>“Each year, the festival has gotten bigger and bigger,” explained Brenda Koenig, chair of the CUFRF steering committee. “The fall festival is a culmination of a year’s worth of planning by our committee and a number of concerts that have brought national and regional performers to the community. The annual festival is entertaining, hands-on, and accessible, which is what folk and roots music is all about.”
<p>This year’s festival will host over 80 performers, artists, and storytellers celebrating American roots music, dance, and stories. This year's festival activities will also include jam sessions, dances, workshops, sing-a-longs, storytelling, and family activities.
<p>“Champaign-Urbana is already a rich musical environment,” said Ed Hawkes, one of the organizers. “The Folk and Roots Festival brings in well-known national and international performers and it celebrates our local music scene as well.” A plethora of performers includes a turn-of-the 20th Century mandolin orchestra, folk, blues, and bluegrass, Klezmer music, and Irish fiddle music can be enjoyed within a few blocks of each other.
<p>The Charleston, Illinois band, Resonation Station, will kick off the festival on Thursday, November 1, at Krannert Center’s UnCorked, from 5:00-7:00 p.m. The event is free and open to the public. Singer-songwriter Robby Fulks heads the list of featured acts at this year’s festival that includes the Freighthoppers, Storyteller Mike Anderson, Canada’s Tequila Mockingbird Orchestra, Devil in the Woodpile, John Lilly, Blind Boy Paxton and Brandon Bailey, Mugdock Pipers, Red Tail Ring, Irish fiddler Rose Duffy, harmonica master Deak Harp, The Curses (jug, swing, blues), and The Blue Ribbon Revival.
<p>A number of area artists performing at various venues include members of the Champaign-Urbana Singer/Songwriter’s Collective, Black Coffee Fridays, David Howie, Kevin Elliot, Almost “A” Quartet, accordianist Jay Landers; plus, a Nightjar Productions showcase with Gloria Roubal, Justin Rondin, Midas the Crow and Vivian McConnell, the Mugdock Pipers, The Shanties (Celtic), The Stay Gold Boys (rockabilly), The Young & Fretless, Emily Otnes, and Margaret O'Brien.
<p>On Friday and Saturday, there will be a variety of jam sessions throughout the day. Bring your uke and jam with the Homebrew Ukulele Union. Free public workshops, sings, storytelling, and art sessions are also scheduled throughout the festival including instrument "how-tos", children’s activities, sing-a-longs, and community jams in a variety of styles. Scheduled dances include contra, Cajun, square, and folk styles.
<p>A festival wristband costs $25 (children 12 and under are free) for access to all performance venues and activities. Tickets for single events, including dances, can be purchased at the door of the individual venues. Wristbands are available at Heartland Gallery and the CUFRF booth at the Urbana Farmers’ Market on Saturdays through October.
<p>Visit <a href="http://www.folkandroots.org/">www.folkandroots.org</a> for a complete schedule of events and performances, to purchase a wristband, to become a sponsor, or volunteer during the festival. The C-U Folk and Roots Festival is a not-for-profit, all-volunteer organization dedicated to the promotion of accessible art forms and community building in East Central Illinois. In addition to many area sponsors, the festival funded in part by a grant from the Illinois Arts Council and the City of Urbana Public Arts Commission.Matt Wintershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06800809930302332420noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7569396753917546637.post-25921101917832999362012-09-30T17:41:00.000-07:002012-09-30T17:41:24.579-07:00John Fullbright on Prairie Home Companion<br />
This great singer-songwriter, who is currently on tour with Devil Makes Three, performed on Prairie Home Companion over the weekend. <a href="http://prairiehome.publicradio.org">Have a listen</a>. Nick Toloudishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05638120254852746608noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7569396753917546637.post-66723612184043458162012-09-16T16:41:00.001-07:002012-09-16T16:41:04.225-07:00Jorma Kaukonen w/ Loudon Wainwright III @ The Colonial Theater, Phoenixville PA, September 14th, 2012Not long after entering the Colonial Theater in Phoenixville, I entered the men’s room, just in time to hear a couple of guys, at least two decades my senior, talking about their excitement about seeing <a href="http://www.jormakaukonen.com">Jorma Kaukonen</a>. I was a bit irritated, however, to hear one of them announce, apropos of his excitement, how great <i>Bless Its Pointed Little Head </i>(1969) is, and the other swear that that album, Jefferson Airplane’s first and best live album, goes together with their third album, <i>After Bathing at Baxter’s </i>(1967). I was irritated not because I disagree about the greatness of either (although listening back to Baxter’s now, it’s a bit uneven, though its great moments are some of the Airplane’s greatest), but because you’d think Jorma hadn’t done anything since the ‘60s were over. But he had just gotten started. In any case, Jorma Kaukonen and Hot Tuna shows seem to attract folks who, if their offhand comments and in-concert whooping are any indication, checked out after the Airplane landed, or perhaps after Hot Tuna cooled off at the end of the 1970s, and were out to recapture something. This is not the first time I’ve noticed this—and as someone who was born in the later 1970s himself, I’m at a generational disadvantage in assessing an audience that in some broad sense I’m not a part of—but it’s the first time I found myself a little annoyed. Jorma Kaukonen plays a lot of traditional material—folk songs, let’s say—but he’s not a nostalgia act. Over the past decade or so, he’s been recording some excellent albums, including the first new Hot Tuna studio album in over 20 years, and he doesn’t shy away from performing those songs in concert.<br />
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The opening act for the evening was <a href="http://www.lwiii.com">Loudon Wainwright III</a>, who takes generational solidarity more seriously than most touring singers his age simply by writing the personal songs that he’s always written and not pretending that he is anything other than he is. At the moment, what that means is that he knows that most of his life is over, and death is very much on his mind. Several of the songs from his set came from his most recent album, <i>Older than My Old Man Now</i> (2012), which contains entirely songs about “death and decay,” as he told us. He preceded two of the songs he played from that album—the title track, along with “Something’s Out to Get Me”—with recitations of Life Magazine columns that his father had written, one about his own father (Loudon Wainwright I, that is) and another about his own impending demise. The generational disjuncture made itself felt about halfway through the set, when he made a show out of peering into the audience and claiming to notice that he could see his demographic out in the crowd. That comment led into “My Meds” from the new album, a recitation of all the substances he was on (or would be on by the end of the night, he assured us). “Heaven” and “The Picture” both featured death in their own way, one moving me to laugh out loud, the other making me tear up. “Over the Hill” he co-wrote with his late wife Kate McGarrigle, before either had turned 30. When they weren’t playing music together or raising their son, he said, “we were trying to kill each other.” “The Morgue” was the highlight of the night, as it combined “death and decay” with his favorite theme from earlier in his career, “shitty love.” And there was also time for “Ode to Pittsburg,” which he wrote in 1969 and was trying to prepare for his show in that city the next night, where he went to college. He forgot about half the words, prompting him to announce, as he struck the final chord, that he was going to have to go home and google the song so that he could memorize the words in time for the show.<br />
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While Loudon Wainwright’s performances tend to be emotional roller coasters, Jorma Kaukonen’s performances (at least his solo acoustic ones; Hot Tuna is another matter) are, by contrast, steadier enterprises. This is a function of the kinds of material they perform, their performing styles, and their own particular quirks and talents. Jorma is a blues singer, plain and (not so) simple. His set with Barry Mitterhoff, as usual, combined a handful of original songs with traditional blues songs, some of which have been in Jorma’s repertoire since the 1960s, like “Good Shepherd” and “Come Back Baby” which, probably not by coincidence, are also the two songs that featured the longest jams of the night. “Hesitation Blues” and “How Long Blues” were recorded for the first Hot Tuna album and elicited some of the loudest applause of the evening. As usual there were plenty of Reverend Gary Davis songs, this time including “Children of Zion” and “Let Us Get Together Right down Here.”<br />
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Jorma was a gracious host. While Barry did most of the talking, introducing songs and doing the usual thank yous, Jorma’s stage presence was wry and warm. He pointed out that the ukulele that Barry Mitterhoff took up for “The Terrible Operation” dated back to the 1920s. He shrugged off a particularly loud request for “Killing Time in the Crystal City” by saying “now there’s a cheerful song.” He dedicated “What Are They Doing in Heaven Today?” to his old friend and bandmate Jack Casady, whose wife passed away not long ago. He referred to Miller Highlife as “the champagne of bottled beer.” And, as usual, he let Barry advertise their merchandise: CDs, t-shirts, and an assortment of teas which, as Jorma said, was for our benefit, not theirs. He bade us all stay healthy and take good care of ourselves so that we could all make it to NYC for the Beacon Theater shows after Thanksgiving. The musical high points were when Jorma got flashy. His solo on “Barbeque King” was especially fine, and the uptempo segment of “Hesitation Blues” is always marvelous to behold. And the encore of “Embryonic Journey” was a great moment. It was the Jefferson Airplane song that the crowd had been waiting for. And I’m glad they, I mean <i>we</i>, got it<br />
Nick Toloudishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05638120254852746608noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7569396753917546637.post-90695636329758839242012-07-30T07:36:00.001-07:002012-09-13T15:19:48.413-07:00Marshall Crenshaw with The Bottle Rockets @ World Cafe Live, Philadelphia PA, July 25th, 2012<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br />
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For my first evening of live music in Philadelphia (not counting a rather lonely evening at <a href="http://www.ortliebslounge.com">Ortlieb’s</a>, watching a jazz guitarist solo over some r&b backing tracks for half an hour), I stuck with the tried and true—<a href="http://www.marshallcrenshaw.com">Marshall Crenshaw</a>—and something new –<a href="http://www.bottlerocketsmusic.com">The Bottle Rockets</a>. I hadn’t heard of this band other than in the context of Marshall Crenshaw, who has been playing with them on and off for the past couple of years. It turns out they’ve been putting out albums for the last 20 years, pretty good ones according to Robert Christgau, although I did absolutely no research on them prior to the show. They played for about an hour, before returning later as Marshall Crenshaw’s backing band.<br />
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I associate the term “World Café” with <a href="http://www.npr.org/programs/world-cafe/">the radio show</a>, hosted by David Dye, which I’ve been listening to ever since I discovered WFUV about a week after moving to New York City in the summer of 1999. The venue of the same name is a place reminiscent of the now long-defunct Bottom Line in NYC, with a couple of rows of tables, one elevated a little , close to the bar, and a second cluster closer to the stage (which is where I was, very close to the sound engineer). Unlike the Bottom Line, there was also a big standing room area close to the stage. I was afraid at first that the standers would be in the way, but the stage was high enough for that not to be a problem. There were over 100 people, maybe as many as 150, at the show, and that was not quite enough to convey the impression of anything close to a sold-out show. I think all the sitting room was filled up, but there just weren’t enough folks up and dancing close to the stage and, toward the end of the show, it felt like the crowd was getting restless. I overheard at least one woman say that it was past her bedtime. This was clearly an audience full of Marshall Crenshaw fans, most of them well over the age of 40. The only clear Bottle Rockets fans were about a dozen or so younger folks—some college aged, a few around my age—who were clustered close to the stage, at least a few of whom seemed to vanish after the Bottle Rockets finished their opening set.<br />
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So, I didn’t know what to expect from the BRs. What I got was an hour’s worth of loud, raucous rock n’ roll. The crunching guitars were loud enough to drown out a lot of the singing (except when the bass player harmonized; I wish he’d done more of that), but it didn’t matter, because the band was great. Pretty much every song deployed a short, catchy riff, and every one had at least one guitar solo to absorb. Best of all was the drummer, who looked totally relaxed and was clearly having a great time. He held things together. They were tight and focused and clearly have been doing this for a long time. Some songs veered toward rockabilly, a few were slow. But most were uptempo and hard-rocking, and nothing bored me. They were a bit reminiscent of <a href="http://www.ely.com">Joe Ely</a> at his loudest. If you’ve heard Joe’s album <i>Live at Liberty Lunch</i> (1990), picture an hour’s worth of stuff like Joe’s “Are You Listening Lucky?” from that album. Song fragments I picked up included an opener called, I think, “Shame on Me,” “Indianapolis,” “Mountain to Climb,” “I Fell Down,” and a really great one called “Welfare Music.” Great stuff, and I’ll seek them out in the future.<br />
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Marshall Crenshaw, on the other hand, I know a thing or two about. The first time I saw him, he played as 1/3 of an acoustic trio, at NYC’s Rodeo Bar, but the next two times I saw him, in Brooklyn and in Northampton, he played alone on stage. He’s quite a guitar player, and I’m partial to his singing voice, but for years now I’ve craved seeing him with a rock band to back him up. And last night my craving got satisfied. I was not disappointed. The Bottle Rockets fit Marshall’s songs superbly. If anything, they sounded particularly good on the two newer songs, from the <i>Jaggedland</i> (2009) album: “Live and Learn” and “Stormy River.” They both featured some extended guitar solos that really worked. The ensemble playing was excellent throughout and have I mentioned that drummer they’ve got? He’s really something.<br />
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But it wasn’t the newer material that this crowd wanted to hear, it was the songs that made the man’s career, 30 years ago. “There She Goes Again” and “Cynical Girl” opened the set back-to-back, and “Mary Anne” came a few songs later, with “Calling Out for Love at Crying Time” and “Starless Summer Sky” in between. The final four songs of the set went from great to greatest: “Whenever You’re On My Mind,” “Something’s Gonna Happen,” “Someday Someway,” and, to end the set, “Better Back Off,” a song that Marshall described as “a happy song about anxiety.” But to me it’s simply a song about a man trying to get his lover to stop being so critical of herself. Why don’t more people write those kinds of lyrics? The same guy also wrote “What Do You Dream Of?” which came in the middle of the set, and is incredibly beautiful, one of my most favorite songs by anyone. The covers of Buddy Holly’s “Crying, Waiting, Hoping” and Richard Thompson’s “Valerie” soared, and the encore of “Not For Me” left me wanting more. Here’s hoping these two acts start teaming up more regularly. And here's a young man and his upbeat band <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YKZkhdvSNSI&feature=related">getting famous in 1982</a>.<br />
<br />Nick Toloudishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05638120254852746608noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7569396753917546637.post-9231610924092437922012-06-14T16:33:00.001-07:002012-06-14T16:33:57.309-07:00Aoife O'Donovan w/ John Fullbright @ One Longfellow Square, June 13th, 2012<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br />
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Wednesday night's concert at OLS was a beauty. I know <a href="http://www.aoifeodonovan.com">Aoife O'Donovan</a> as the lead singer for <a href="http://www.crookedstill.com">Crooked Still</a>, who I've seen half a dozen times or more, and who I hope to see perform again sometime. For the time being, though, that band has fragmented, with its constitutive parts all doing their own thing. Aoife has lately been touring with her own band and recorded a short CD called the <i>Peachstone EP</i> (2012) which I regret not buying. On the basis of what I heard at OLS, this is one to buy.<br />
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Before I get to her, though, there is the matter of <a href="http://www.johnfullbrightmusic.com">John Fullbright</a>. He took the stage with a wry, "how ya' feelin' out there Wichita?" He was an Oklahoma native and, we learned, doesn't play out east too much. After that greeting, he let us into his world with the following: "Don’t tell me that you love me / I’ve got nothing left in turn / Except this empty bag of promises / And second degree burns." He had barely 30 minutes to perform, so he kept between-song commentary to a minimum and, instead, let his crisp guitar playing and big soulful voice fill the room. By the end of that first song, "Satan and St. Paul," he had clearly won over the audience. The applause from the still-only-half-full room was big and enthusiastic. It's always exciting when something like this happens, and after the fourth song, "Forgotten Flowers," which conveyed heartbreak with a splitting cry in the singing, I realized that I was watching a star being born. After that one, he told us about the two CDs he had for sale at the show. You'll probably like the first one better, he explained. The second one was recorded live in concert. So if we liked what we were hearing this evening, maybe that would be the one to buy. "It's no better or worse than what you're seeing." In other words, he's a pretty funny guy. He ended with "Jericho," in which he howled about walls come tumbling down, and in which I didn't hear anything funny at all. Watch for this guy.<br />
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The featured act came onstage at about 10 minutes before 9:00, accompanied by a 5-piece band: Ryan Scott on guitars, Jacob Silver on bass, Robin MacMillan on drums, Maine native Jed Wilson on keyboards, and Charlie Rose on pedal steel. They played for a little over an hour, and almost all the songs were Aoife originals. Many of them were from the <i>Peachstone EP</i>, including "Lay My Burden Down" which, I now learn, Alison Krauss recorded for her newest album. "The Beekeeper" was particularly striking, as was "Electric Ponies," which was the longest song of the evening and featured Jed Wilson playing some xylophone, some enticing shifts of melody, and some particularly nuanced percussion. Throughout the performance, Aoife sang beautifully, but the real attractions were the arrangements and ensemble playing. There was obvious care taken to build sophisticated music around the lyrics to "Pearls," "The Beekeeper, and "Electric Ponies," in particular. It felt ambitious, a gently psychedelic folk-rock with the pedal steel adding an eerie undercurrent to every song, and Ryan Scott alternating between soft functional accompaniment and searing bluesy solos that I can imagine competing with the banjo in a Crooked Still arrangement. Like I said, I really should have bought the CDs that were on sale.<br />
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Throughout the show, Aoife was a charming hostess, smiling and friendly. During the music, though, she was focused on her guitar-playing and singing. She and her band seemed very comfortable with each other, and there were plenty of little in-jokes tossed back and forth between the half dozen people on stage. For the encore, they gave us Bonnie Raitt's "Love Letter," with Aoife dancing a bit, grinning up a storm, and smiling at Ryan Scott, who let it all hang out.Nick Toloudishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05638120254852746608noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7569396753917546637.post-25876785720511445462012-05-25T13:50:00.001-07:002012-05-28T11:48:34.017-07:00Chris Smither @ One Longfellow Square, Portland ME, May 20th, 2012<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUIGyIq3Z0H5AR7wtzUkK7LXJ2JTNQZm7YAZEf1SIsBRBUX1vMCKtyg7CBVKm-70-SHfdc9ubqAIOynJmRcd4lhi2-1ewEJJ2aBFbQ-0fs_9UfpleX2paTsFkmndKBYqzjeE3CDZ4k/s1600/HDV.jpg" imageanchor="1" style=""><img border="0" height="280" width="280" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUIGyIq3Z0H5AR7wtzUkK7LXJ2JTNQZm7YAZEf1SIsBRBUX1vMCKtyg7CBVKm-70-SHfdc9ubqAIOynJmRcd4lhi2-1ewEJJ2aBFbQ-0fs_9UfpleX2paTsFkmndKBYqzjeE3CDZ4k/s320/HDV.jpg" /></a></div><br />
A few songs into Chris Smither's Sunday night performance, I found myself wondering what it would be like to hear Chris Smither again for the first time. Not possible for me, of course, and every person's first connection with a musician or work or art that becomes meaningful cannot be duplicated. But before the show I was wondering if hearing the great man could ever feel as meaningful as it did a decade ago, at the Falcon Ridge Folk Festival in 2002, or at the Joe's Pub shows in the years that followed, or even the performance at the Green River Festival in 2009. Perhaps thinking in that way put me in the right frame of mind, or maybe sitting less than 5 feet away from the performer had something to do with it, but Sunday night's show was one of the greatest performances I've seen from him. I sat front row center and looked up into the great man's worn, serious face as he picked and stomped and sung song after song with more power than I've heard from him in years. My attention rarely swayed after that one moment early on.<br />
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One thing that made the show unusual was that the performer was promoting a new album. He played most of the songs from <i>Hundred Dollar Valentine </i>(2012), which is now available. The only ones from the album that he didn't do were the oldies that he rerecorded, the profoundly plain-spoken "I Feel the Same" and the dark but hopeful "Every Mother's Son." I haven't listened to the CD yet--I bought it after the show--so I didn't know any of the new songs. There was some dense verbiage in several of them, and one was a blues that the writer remarked he didn't write too much of anymore. If you think you've heard it before, he told us, there's a good reason for that. There wasn’t a single dull moment in the entire show, including the new songs whose hooks and twists seemed familiar somehow, offhandedly borrowed from the same wellspring of blues and folk music that are the square root of everything the great music plays.<br />
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He played two one hour sets, separated by about a half hour intermission. The early set featured mostly recent material. After the opening manifesto "Open Up" and the diseased love song "Lola," he unveiled the new material, and it sounded glorious. The foot-tapping was as simple as always, and as profound as always too, as it complemented the lyricism in the words, the rough depth of the voice, and rhythmic syncopation of the guitar. The new album's title track was particularly fine, especially with the line about the airline taking away his lighter. And "Don't Call Me Stranger" from <i>Time Stands Still</i> (2009) elicited laughter and applause with its greatest couplet, "I'm not evil / I'm just bad."<br />
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The second set began with "Link of Chain" and "Can't Shake These Blues," songs that date back to the mid-1990s. Smither's longevity and reluctance to play any original material that he recorded before 1990 allow for the labeling of those two songs as oldies. Much of the rest of the second set consisted of familiar material, like "No Love Today," which elicited some of the loudest applause. Dave Carter's "Crocodile Man" smoked, and so did "Seems So Real," which sounds ok on the <i>Train Home </i>(2003) album, but really gathers steam in concert. The set concluded with "Leave the Light On," which will probably conclude his sets for many years to come.<br />
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For the encore, he played the oldest of the oldies, "Sitting on Top of the World," which dates back to the 1920s. Or back to the 1984 album <i>It Ain't Easy</i> if, like me, you think that Chris Smither reinvented the song. Which brings the "oldies" question back onto the table…and reminded me of the performance I heard earlier in the day of a trio performing a honky-tonk version of the same song, at <a href="http://www.localsproutscooperative.com">Local Sprouts</a>. As I once heard Stephin Merrit say in an NPR interview, song lyrics don’t convey enough information to direct a singer how to sing them—or something like that. I’ve heard this particular song over and over again, in different arrangements with different attitudes. Earlier in the day, the trio played the song for good times and smiles. At night, Chris Smither’s performance evoked peaceful quietude, hiding something sad, even dreadful, as the stolid foot-tapping transformed the suppressed hurt into graceful forbearance.<br />Nick Toloudishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05638120254852746608noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7569396753917546637.post-36386412447793251202011-11-27T16:59:00.000-08:002011-11-27T17:01:52.062-08:00Article on Tom Russell and His New DiscThere's <a href="http://www.chron.com/life/article/Tom-Russell-adds-to-his-storied-past-2292274.php">a nice piece</a> in the Houston Chronicle talking about Tom Russell's new CD <i>Mesabi</i> and generally covering Russell's life and career.Matt Wintershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06800809930302332420noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7569396753917546637.post-1047342793759509272011-11-22T18:28:00.001-08:002011-11-25T09:12:13.656-08:00Bearfoot w/ Hoots and Hellmouth @ One Longfellow Square, Portland, ME, November 20th, 2011<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsIGPYz3rYrxL5dtc0gHwI9vm1ZiwXnPWZ3m16n9-OQN-TMaMAX0pijiDcBVi3qjvmuvchiLjMzsuaHXjRkCVbJz4LgkbqXIf9dMcBspXyQN5dngZonrviB8eQqspaqU5WGzYaAjnn/s1600/bg_top.png"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 121px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsIGPYz3rYrxL5dtc0gHwI9vm1ZiwXnPWZ3m16n9-OQN-TMaMAX0pijiDcBVi3qjvmuvchiLjMzsuaHXjRkCVbJz4LgkbqXIf9dMcBspXyQN5dngZonrviB8eQqspaqU5WGzYaAjnn/s320/bg_top.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5678981927748424786" /></a><br /><br />This past Sunday night, I walked up the hill for a lovely evening of music at One Longfellow Square. This was my second time at this venue, and I've grown very fond of it very quickly. In fact, I was first alerted to Sunday night's show at One Longfellow when I was there a couple of weeks ago to see Jorma Kaukonen. I had never even heard of <a href="http://www.bearfootband.com">Bearfoot</a> until then.<br /><br />I wasn't aware that there would be an opening act until after I arrived. <a href="http://www.hootsandhellmouth.com">Hoots and Hellmouth</a> are a Philadelphia-based band--guitar, stand-up bass, drums, and mandolin--that played a mixture of mellow folk-rock and jazz, with a touch of spacey, psychedelic instrumentation. A couple of songs into the set, I found myself thinking about a group called The Secret Life of Sophia, which I saw open for the Black Spoons over 5 years ago, in New York City. TSLoS was a much harder, edgier group, but something about H&H's vibe reminded me of them. At any rate, the drummer was the man to watch, at least at first, as he switched off between sticks and brushes to dictate the feel of each piece. There were some great rocking moments on a song called "I Don't Mind Your Cussing" and there were some sweet harmonies, especially on something called "City Lights on a Country Ceiling." By the end of the set, though, I was paying more attention to the singer-guitarist, whose picking was nimble and confident. "Apple Like a Wrecking Ball" featured a particularly nice guitar part and, listening back to it now, courtesy of the band's <a href="http://www.hootsandhellmouth.com">website</a>, it's making me want to buy their album. And I just might do it.<br /><br />The featured act, Bearfoot, was every bit as good as I was hoping they'd be. They are a five-piece band--Angela Oudean on fiddle and Jason Norris on mandolin, Alaskans who founded the band 10 years ago, along with Nora Jane Struthers on guitar, PJ George on bass, and Todd Grebe (another Alaskan) on guitar--who play mostly original material (although I really enjoyed their cover of AP Carter's "Single Girl" and, for an encore, the Stanley Brothers' "Sweet Thing"). They performed all the songs from their recent album, <span style="font-style:italic;">American Story</span> (2011), and they ranged from good to great. I was especially partial to the ones that Todd Grebe took the lead on--"Mr. Moonshine" and "Midnight in Montana" and "Must Be Hard Being You"--he apparently is in charge of the band's M songs. Nora Jane Struthers sang "When You're Away," the video for which One Longfellow had used to advertise the band when I saw Jorma Kaukonen there a couple of weeks ago. That's the one, in other words, that made me want to come see the band. She also sang a great song called "Country Girl Yodel #3," which isn't on the recent album, and one called "Come and Get Your Lonesome," which is.<br /><br />Their music was mostly upbeat, and each band member had a moment to shine. PJ George had a solo or two, but he mostly was unobtrusive, alternating between stand-up bass and bass guitar. He was there to serve the songs, and I actually found myself paying a lot of attention to him, precisely because of how understated he was. I understand he's a newer member of the band--I hope for their sake he stays. Jason Norris sang some great harmonies and played some loud, flashy mandolin solos, although there was some problem with the placement of his mandoline mic for the first couple of songs. Angela Oudean had some tasty solos and harmonized wonderfully in song after song. And Nora Jane Struthers and Todd Grebe, newer members of the band (I've since learned) who did the lion's share of the songwriting for the recent album, were excellent hosts, introducing songs, chatting up the audience, and singing and playing with a lot of enthusiasm. At one point, the men left the stage, leaving Angela and Nora Jane alone to sing a duet. It took an uncomfortably long time for Angela to get her guitar in tune, leaving her bandmate to make small talk with the audience. During this sequence, Todd Grebe poked his head out from backstage and gestured intently to his watch. The song that the two women sang, "Romance," wound up being the only one for the duo, as the guys came back to help out with "Country Girl Yodel #3."<br /><br />On my way out, I shook hands with a couple of members of each band. A bit tired, as the adrenaline rush of the show was already ebbing, I didn't stop to chat and pay them the big compliments they deserved. According to their website, Bearfoot won't be playing another show around here for awhile. But they're <a href="http://www.bearfootband.com/tour.php">worth seeking out</a>.Nick Toloudishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05638120254852746608noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7569396753917546637.post-83372185352047503762011-11-05T20:27:00.001-07:002011-11-06T14:35:44.523-08:00Jorma Kaukonen @ One Longfellow Square, Portland, ME, November 5th, 2011Saturday night, I walked up the street to attend my first One Longfellow Square concert. This is a great venue, small and intimate, yet still managing to fit a couple hundred people or so. While I can't imagine what it would be like to hear a full band play there, it was ideal for the show that I just saw: Jorma Kaukonen, accompanied by his Hot Tuna bandmate Barry Mitterhoff. It was a sold-out show, the venue's first sold-out show for some time, we were told.<br /><br />I've seen Jorma play a number of times now: 7 or 8 Hot Tuna shows since 1999, plus Jorma's set at the Half the Sky benefit show last year. But I've never been as close to him as I was Saturday night. I sat in the second row, a stone's toss from where he and Barry were stationed onstage. My view of Barry was almost completely unobstructed. Jorma had his music stand with him and it, and the sheet music that was on it, blocked my view of his right hand. But I sat right in front of where his left hand was positioned all night. Watching his left hand on the fretboard over the course of two 75 minute sets, including an encore, was a truly humbling experience. Over the past year or so, I've been trying to learn to play several of his songs, and watching the master himself at work, at such close range, was awe-inspiring. When the encore turned out to be "Water Song," I leaned forward, trying to make sure his fretting looked familiar to what I was trying to do when playing it.<br /><br />Jorma and Barry were clearly in a good mood. Jorma was chattier than he's been on the previous occasions I've seen him, and his banter with his bandmate was fun. One of the themes of the night was presidents. Almost every time they played a song that was written before 1975 or so, Barry would mention the name of the president in office into the microphone. Before "Bread Line Blues," Herbert Hoover. Before "Vicksburg Stomp," FDR. And so forth. It was much more amusing, however, whenever it was a Jorma original. In fact, the matter first came up about five songs into the set, when Barry informed us that the next song was first recorded when Richard Nixon was president. That turned out to be "Sea Child," a high point of the first set. Nixon came up again, just prior to "Genesis." And a third time just after "I See the Light," prompting Jorma to say "Gimme a break." I was close enough to the stage to hear Barry say, "C'mon, your songs stand the test of time!" Jorma: "Better than he did."<br /><br />After the second song, "Let Us Get Together Right Down Here," someone in the audience called out, "the Reverend!" "They're very sharp," Jorma said to Barry, gesturing to the crowd. "What did he say?" Barry asked. "I believe I heard someone say, 'the Reverend.'" "I thought he said, 'the rapper.'" "Different show, Barry." Later on, Jorma talked about a deranged fan who, sometime in the 1970s, wanted to have a gold tooth just like Jorma's, so he actually had one of his own teeth knocked out. "He knocked out the wrong one," Jorma said, grinning, so we could all see the gold. The same guy wanted to have a tattoo just like Jorma's, so he went to the tattoo parlor with a crumpled up poster of Jorma that depicted the tattoo. And the tattoo artists proceeded to reproduce not just the tattoo, but the wrinkles that the crumpling had created in the poster. Oops.<br /><br />The show began with "What Are They Doing in Heaven Today?" which Jorma recorded for his <span style="font-style:italic;">Blue Country Heart</span> (2002) album. It's one of his gentler numbers, and it preceded "Let Us Get Together Right Down Here," the first of several Reverend Gary Davis songs he'd perform. In my mind, I always hear the recording from <span style="font-style:italic;">Burgers</span> (1972), with Papa John Creach on fiddle, but it sounded just fine last night with Barry's frills and flourishes.<br /><br />There were plenty of high points. I am partial to "Sea Child," a <span style="font-style:italic;">Burgers</span> song whose guitar part is one of Jorma's greatest creations. I never tire of hearing that song. The same goes for "I See The Light," which makes me realize how much I love the man's songwriting. Of his more recent songs, I'm particularly fond of "Things That Might Have Been." He also did "Second Chances," which I remember hearing at the Half the Sky concert last year. The second set included "Good Shepherd" which featured the longest jam of the night. Barry outdid himself on that one, which Jorma pointed out afterward, asking him to "please remember that," because "you might have to do that again sometime," or something like that. The end of the second was "Parchman Farm," which segued into "Keep Your Lamps Trimmed and Burning," another great moment. Beyond all those, every song that Jorma originally recorded for the first Hot Tuna album in 1970 elicited big applause when he played them Saturday night: "Know You Rider," "How Long Blues," "Hesitation Blues," and "Uncle Sam Blues."Nick Toloudishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05638120254852746608noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7569396753917546637.post-42984775572778802292011-10-06T19:13:00.001-07:002011-10-08T11:20:12.620-07:00Madeleine Peyroux w/ Nellie McKay @ The State Theater, Portland, ME, October 6th, 2011<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2Rd26OC-3E9E33Ayw0HQ-PO4T1WnUZWh2APc1dhegXe21cFVIwtC7sz37uWfA697g9xr5jqF1GKqGTQxPKRT2T6HSZQiSm3t3zOkgXModYqSx6QnO9d1nL0hc86BRhRWOwnKmns_7/s1600/Madeleine%252BPeyroux.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2Rd26OC-3E9E33Ayw0HQ-PO4T1WnUZWh2APc1dhegXe21cFVIwtC7sz37uWfA697g9xr5jqF1GKqGTQxPKRT2T6HSZQiSm3t3zOkgXModYqSx6QnO9d1nL0hc86BRhRWOwnKmns_7/s320/Madeleine%252BPeyroux.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5661186012395366754" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYntOHw6bH2SvhMnEizUxOpje-2yfWE5uJWGf-jJC9_iTsdYHOrcbadna4NQY3FYr-y-IBr3PsTPNdApkgnNoTse5oS8d7bcCPWvys1QBfcJlfvmJDReZeJ_YoXnScUvgN34YJROWI/s1600/nellie-homesweet-1.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYntOHw6bH2SvhMnEizUxOpje-2yfWE5uJWGf-jJC9_iTsdYHOrcbadna4NQY3FYr-y-IBr3PsTPNdApkgnNoTse5oS8d7bcCPWvys1QBfcJlfvmJDReZeJ_YoXnScUvgN34YJROWI/s320/nellie-homesweet-1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5661185709018638210" /></a><br /><br />Thursday night, I returned to the lovely State Theater for the first time since January of 2008. Back then, I was living in Brunswick, ME, and I had to rent a car for the evening to make it down for the Ani Difranco show. I seem to recall listening to a Celts-Mavs game on the radio for the ride back, but my memory might be playing tricks on me. Anyway, I now live within walking distance of the State, and it takes 15 minutes to mosey over and 15 minutes to mosey back home. And rather than rock out with a theater full of screaming Difrancophiles, this time I sat quietly through a mellow 75 minute set of Madeleine Peyroux's jazzy crooning.<br /><br />But before I get to her, there is the matter of <a href="http://www.nelliemckay.net">Nellie McKay</a>. I will never forget listening to WFUV one evening in May of 2003, alone in my girlfriend's apartment on the Upper West Side, when Rita Houston interviewed this then-19 year old for Words and Music from Studio A. She was simultaneous giddy, shy, nervous, and self-effacing. Lots of stuttering, but in a really charming way. It peaked with her referring to herself as a "ketchup whore," before wondering if it was ok to say that on the radio. As I type this, I'm listening to a recording of this interview, available via WFUV's archives <a href="http://wfuv.streamguys.us/cgi-bin/colinker.cgi?colink=102882903384418">here</a>, and it's as fun as I remember it.<br /><br />This was my second time hearing her perform live. The first time was in May of 2007, when she recorded a 20 minute set at Town Hall for a recording of Mountain Stage (which also featured The Roches, David Bromberg, and Joan Osborne). This time, she played for about half an hour, cramming 9 songs in, with very little chatter in between tunes. The set focused on older material, particularly from <em>Get Away from Me </em>(2004), and she opened with "Toto Dies" and "The Dog Song" and "I Wanna Get Married." Great song after great song, her voice rang and glistened, and her piano playing florid and strident and, for the third song, quiet and subtle. It was interesting listening to the audience respond to her. The majority were clearly there to hear the featured act, and it took until "I Wanna Get Married," with the line about reading Danielle Steele, to get some laughter. "Won't U Please Be Nice" is one of my favorites, and that got some some laughs too, but the set peaked when she got out from behind her piano, took up her banjo, walked up to the microphone center stage, and sang "Mother of Pearl" with its priceless opening line: "Feminists don't have a sense of humor." By then, everyone knew it was ok to laugh, and her "dance break" in the middle of the song was hilarious, with her high-heeled soft-shoe toe-tap and twirl performed with a big, charming smile. A couple of songs I didn't know came after that one, before she concluded with a song she said was about illegal immigration. Turns out that was "Don't Fence Me In," which I think was originally recorded by Bing Crosby sometime in the '40s.<br /><br />While Nellie McKay dealt mostly in sarcasm and double entendres and quirky musicality, Madeleine Peyroux is a romantic, pure and simple. She performed with a four-piece band (guitar, bass, keyboards, and drums), and her set of a dozen songs was smooth and loose and relaxing. The songs I know best are the ones from <span style="font-style:italic;">Careless Love</span> (2005), and she opened with three of them, "Don't Wait Too Long," "Don't Cry, Baby," and Bob Dylan's "You're Gonna Make Me Lonesome When You Go." That last one was the first of several to get to me. She cradles the words and melody in her voice with a lot of care, seeming to speak and sing the words simultaneously. Not that that quality didn't sound great in the first two songs, but "you're gonna make me give myself a good talking to" and "you can make me cry if you don't know" gave me goose bumps.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.madeleinepeyroux.org">Madeleine Peyroux</a>'s most recent album, unheard by me, contains mostly songs that she wrote herself. She played several of them at the show I saw. "The Kind You Can't Afford," about money, was lovely, although she spoke the words a bit too softly. "Don't Pick a Fight with a Poet" was jaunty and fun and I wasn't really paying much attention to the poetry on that one. She also played a Robert Johnson song from the latest album, "Love in Vain." That happens to be my favorite Robert Johnson song, and I was thrilled with her arrangement. It was slow and plodding and featured a slightly distorted single note on the guitar that cut through the verses and seemed to mirror the psychic agony permeating the words: "the blue light was my blues / the red light was my mind."<br /><br />Although, like the rest of the attendees, I was happy to hear Leonard Cohen's "Dance Me to the End of Love," I was more moved by her slower numbers. And her encore consisted of two of them. First, there was "J'ai Deux Amours," performed more slowly than the recording from <span style="font-style:italic;">Careless Love</span>. "Walkin' After Midnight" came last, and it left me wanting more.Nick Toloudishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05638120254852746608noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7569396753917546637.post-13205784768744450322011-08-13T10:59:00.001-07:002011-08-14T19:20:29.753-07:00Chris Smither @ Stone Mountain Arts Center, Brownfield ME, August 12th, 2011I took Hillary to the <a href="http://stonemountainartscenter.com">Stone Mountain Arts Center</a> (SMAC) on Friday night to share an even of Chris Smither music with her. I can't remember how many times I've seen him perform--a dozen? maybe more?--but his concerts are the very surest of sure things. And this was my first time at the SMAC since Anthony and I drove out there to hear <a href="http://www.alasdairfraser.com">Alasdair Fraser</a> and <a href="http://www.nataliehaas.com">Natalie Haas</a> over three years ago. Hillary and I arrived early and partook of their delicious chicken soup (with cornbread and watermelon on the side) and spent over an hour chatting with each other and with the couple sitting next to us. In fact, I even found myself defending <a href="http://www.hottuna.com">Hot Tuna</a> to the gentleman sitting next to Hillary, after my passing mention of them yielded expressions of contempt from him and his woman friend. <a href="http://www.jeffersonairplane.com">Jefferson Airplane</a>? That got more eye rolls. It turns out that this couple has being seeing Chris Smither play shows all around New England since the late 1960s. "Are you on a hot date?" the woman asked us.
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<br />Chris Smither looked and sounded great. "Does he wax his hair?" Hillary wondered, which made me laugh. What didn't make me laugh, but did make me smile, was the way the great man foot-tapped his way into "Open Up," which he's been opening his concerts with for years now. Ditto the way he picks the introductory guitar licks to "Link of Chain" before his feet and guitar launch the blues shuffle that backbones the song. The laughter began next, as he talked about losing his GPS machines, which he eventually began calling "Lola," his next song. "She's got hooks to make a fish think twice."
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<br />I've seen Chris Smither enough times, and listened to his music enough, to know what was coming. His stories, even when I've heard them before, are a delight. He talked about his daughter's question about royalties before playing "I Don't Know," the fruit and vegetable man from his New Orleans childhood before "No Love Today," his father's longevity before "Father's Day," the difficulties of writing topical songs before "Surprise, Surprise," and the first time he met Dave Carter before Carter's own "Crocodile Man." His sets don't vary too much from show to show, but the quality of his voice, the intricate guitar playing, the toneless foot-tapping continue to call me back.
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<br />Having been "called back" at different times over the past 9 years or so, certain songs make more of an impression on me. Friday night, I was particularly moved by two of his newer songs: "I Don't Know," which I'm convinced is one of Chris Smither's very best songs, and "Time Stands Still," which is not the only love song he's written, but it's as close as he comes to a romantic song. Beyond those two, his version of "Sitting on Top of the World" is stark and ethereal in his voice and hands, and I never tire of hearing him singing it. He sang his own "Drive You Home Again" with plain-spoken gravity, and the audience's chuckle at the final lines, "if I drive you to distraction / I will drive you home again" was a great moment. "Seems So Real" sounds just fine on his <span style="font-style:italic;">Train Home</span> (2003) album, but it really gathers steam in concert.
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<br />For the encore, he played Dylan's "Visions of Johanna" and got the last of the evening's big laughs with the song's greatest nonsense line, "geez, I can't find my knees." I'd forgotten how beautiful his version of this song is, performed in waltz time, with his rich easy voice delivering some of the greatest opening lines Bob Dylan has ever written: "Ain't it just like the night / to play tricks when you're trying to be quiet? / We sit here stranded / though we're all doing our best to deny it."
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<br />On our way out, Hillary and I watched the great man greet his fans and sign autographs, and I remembered the first time I ever got his autograph, at Joe's Pub back in the fall of 2006. That, and having heard him wish me a happy birthday from the stage in upstate New York in the summer of 2007 are enough for me. But I sure could use a dozen or so new songs from the great man, and it's those I await.Nick Toloudishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05638120254852746608noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7569396753917546637.post-51603150180983038662011-08-04T11:53:00.001-07:002011-08-04T11:54:48.275-07:00Weezer and The Flaming LipsKudos to Ben Ratliff for the following awesome paragraph from <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2011/07/30/arts/music/weezer-and-the-flaming-lips-in-concert-review.html">his review</a> of the integrated Weezer / Flaming Lips shows in the New York area last week: <blockquote>Rivers Cuomo, the geeky major-domo of Weezer, has grown famous on twitchy, distorted power-pop with strong melodic lines. If his songs were people, they’d be around 16, smart, self-absorbed and a little nasty; they would not like the taste of beer. Wayne Coyne, the relaxed, glad-handing singer and songwriter of the Flaming Lips, writes spaced-out, psychedelic singalongs. His songs might be around 21, kind of looking for an internship and very interested in who they were at 5. They have just dropped acid and want to talk to you.</blockquote>Matt Wintershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06800809930302332420noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7569396753917546637.post-49843257443521084712011-07-30T12:24:00.000-07:002011-07-30T12:27:09.735-07:00A Capella "Africa"Wow. It seems to have been over two years since we <a href="http://soundofblackbirds.blogspot.com/2009/03/toto-check-in.html">posted anything</a> about Toto's "Africa" -- what is happening to this blog?<br /><br />Luckily, the fabulous Marjorie Tucker has called our attention to an a capella version of the song that begins with the choir creating a full-on tropical rainstorm out of finger snaps, palms-on-thighs and cringe-inducing jumping on the risers.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.dump.com/2011/07/28/a-cappella-group-sings-africa-and-even-use-their-hands-to-make-a-thunderstorm-video/">Check it out</a>.Matt Wintershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06800809930302332420noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7569396753917546637.post-76938394619308903642011-07-27T20:55:00.000-07:002011-07-27T22:49:04.812-07:00Unforgettable Rain: U2 in Minneapolis<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhA6Xtz0V6HDQMXgGpwdvfReON7j41KqyGFPJcT9OOQor87IerGUANcmjEVsVCes_PBMuj3iCsixUMr6ZqtKN-hDk4xUfE9aEYLpwjFJXLzpQ5xCX4x-6DA5FqD-KMEMFy_k5Y3w18hwQ/s1600/Arial+View.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhA6Xtz0V6HDQMXgGpwdvfReON7j41KqyGFPJcT9OOQor87IerGUANcmjEVsVCes_PBMuj3iCsixUMr6ZqtKN-hDk4xUfE9aEYLpwjFJXLzpQ5xCX4x-6DA5FqD-KMEMFy_k5Y3w18hwQ/s320/Arial+View.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634273609594260834" /></a>As you no doubt read in <a href="http://soundofblackbirds.blogspot.com/2011/07/u2-at-soldier-field.html">Matt's post about U2's Chicago show</a>, we witnessed one of the best stadium shows I've ever seen...that is, until I saw their Minneapolis show at TCF Stadium (pictured left). While I had spent much of last week feeling sad I wasn't joining Matt and fellow Sound of Blackbirds bloggers Nick and Allan out at Falcon Ridge Folk Festival, I ended up having an amazing weekend of music. I even got to enjoy some great folk music myself at the 13th Annual Northeast Folk Festival, a fun festival of local talent at none other than <a href="http://www.grumpys-bar.com/nordeast/">Grumpy's Bar NE</a>. With music indoors and out, there was a great cross-section of the local roots and Americana scene with performances by <a href="http://www.charlieparr.com/">Charlie Parr</a>, <a href="http://www.stevekaul.com/">The Brass Kings</a>, <a href="http://www.jeffraymusic.com/">Jeff Ray</a> and more. Sporting my "Nordeast" t-shirt, I played with my <a href="http://www.motherbanjoband.com/">Mother Banjo Band</a> on the outside stage with <a href="http://www.myspace.com/pocahontascounty">Pocahontas County</a>'s Jake Hyer sitting in on fiddle, which was a real treat. We played U2's "Tryin' to Throw Your Arms Around the World," which has now become a band staple. This pleased the crowd, esepecially because I discovered many of them were going to the U2 show that night. In fact, <a href="http://martindevaney.com/">Martin Devaney</a>, who played a sweet set right after me, was also going after he stopped by yet another festival to play. (On a side note, I just found out that he's playing with <a href="http://www.robbiefulks.com/">Robbie Fulks</a> at the <a href="http://www.turfclub.net/">Turf Club </a>on August 12th--can't wait for that one!)<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKogVOeJAAYzDSj4e9LXAod90ivAaS0XI8L3fqlOOsLPTAdvT_szr9h9PCCE7DntArDc5ZtlGKt-Kjw0I4tW_pcBK6axZQdgzNwJJ5a685AenCTGlxxmOzIDZk4qznNwlQV02iV_p4HQ/s1600/216868_2082630224460_1206236818_32131391_3476381_n.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKogVOeJAAYzDSj4e9LXAod90ivAaS0XI8L3fqlOOsLPTAdvT_szr9h9PCCE7DntArDc5ZtlGKt-Kjw0I4tW_pcBK6axZQdgzNwJJ5a685AenCTGlxxmOzIDZk4qznNwlQV02iV_p4HQ/s320/216868_2082630224460_1206236818_32131391_3476381_n.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634269357068217986" /></a>After wolfing down a tasty pulled pork sandwich, I bused it down to Whitey's Bar, where I met up with some pals for pre-show whiskeys (important since the University-owned stadium has no alcohol). Although there was no U2 playing on the jukebox (as there was when Matt and I were in Chicago at that Irish hotel bar), it was still clear many of these folks were going to U2. In fact, really it seemed like everyone and their mom (literally) was going to the show. What with light rail construction on University Avenue and the crazy amounts of traffic headed to the University of Minnesota's new TCF Stadium, it was madness. Luckily, one of the gals going with us was able to get her husband to drop us off so we arrived with no problem. The very first concert to be held in this stadium (usually used for Gophers sporting events) and the biggest outdoor concert in the Twin Cities in decades, this was the event to be at. In fact, I keep finding out more folks were there (including our Democratic Senator Al Franken and our former Governor Tim Pawlenty, now making a Republican bid for US President). And with only 60,000 seats (compared to the 70,000 at Chicago's Soldier Field), everyone felt pretty close to the gargantuan stage set, including the folks watching from outside the gate.<br /><br />U2 has the stadium show down to a perfect art form--a spectacle that somehow seems personal. Ross Raihala captured this most eloquently in the <a href="http://www.twincities.com/entertainment/ci_18538984?nclick_check=1">Saint Paul Pioneer Press</a>. Although I couldn't take down the whole setlist due to the torrential downpours, I was able to find this <a href="http://www.u2gigs.com/article873.html">setlist</a> from U2's website. Normally I would just craft a little story to remember the song titles, but as you'll see, there were so many snippets of songs that Bono threw in (many rain-related) that I totally lost track of my Hitchcock-inspired story of the zoo that is the city where you go crazy with vertigo...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEintmZQKMNBPLdhzPEhWQfsIv6ViAXQIMRBiVWT5PQo7bgcYyw_iLLUlxei7ozvizClY2Dp74fmAOoyKtK4njZhVX5cxYw79DlV-uX5By5DJfzljB1UodQHGbe5u22puHvuP8JkIAEoGg/s1600/248430_2082622144258_1206236818_32131367_5390635_n.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEintmZQKMNBPLdhzPEhWQfsIv6ViAXQIMRBiVWT5PQo7bgcYyw_iLLUlxei7ozvizClY2Dp74fmAOoyKtK4njZhVX5cxYw79DlV-uX5By5DJfzljB1UodQHGbe5u22puHvuP8JkIAEoGg/s320/248430_2082622144258_1206236818_32131367_5390635_n.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634264115140233986" /></a>This show was supposed to be the final date of their tour, and although this rescheduled date was actually the third-to-last, U2 played it like it was their finale. And the crowd was with them the whole way, even amidst the threatening thunder and lightning, making this a truly unforgettable show. All week they had been predicting storms for Saturday, but the evening started out beautiful. The weather had cooled off a little and there was a light breeze while Interpol played their opening set. Fans bounced balloons and beach balls around from their seats, and in between sets, while the 360 screen scrolled world statistics, someone in our section actually released hundreds of balloons all at once. Like little kids, we all started cheering--a truly magical moment I was actually able to capture on camera.<br /><br />As the seats filled up with people, it was clear that this crowd was a crowd that was committed to seeing U2. When the first drops fell, and everyone started cheering. Even when the torrential rains came down, no one's spirits were dampened, especially not the band who powered through like it was nobody's business. Not staying under cover, Bono was on the runway most of the night, getting just drenched and adding in fun rain-inspired covers, most notably "Purple Rain" (Prince always gets a big reaction in his hometown) and "Singin' in the Rain." Adam Clayton's white shirt got so drenched, he ended up ditching the thing completely, showing off his good-looking abs (someone's been working out!). It made me really respect how dedicated this band is to performing a good live show. When I think of all the musicians I've seen, who complain because it's too hot or too cold or too wet, I will always think of these guys, and how they could have stayed undercover playing a solid but sedate set under a canopy. Instead, they brought the show to the crowd, getting soaked like the rest of us.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9KU01vp3RKnZUp_rWDY4neOcohr2Y0DHpmdcJeXyQdHK2qzfceDsi9ZdWqe9e3EpTRLVy2-77uoLubsYwzHgFaEmdF2r56SLwGLhkRsNPVip4QgW-qIXnr_JOyD8DAcphRbiTEH6x7A/s1600/Bono+in+the+rain.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 234px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9KU01vp3RKnZUp_rWDY4neOcohr2Y0DHpmdcJeXyQdHK2qzfceDsi9ZdWqe9e3EpTRLVy2-77uoLubsYwzHgFaEmdF2r56SLwGLhkRsNPVip4QgW-qIXnr_JOyD8DAcphRbiTEH6x7A/s320/Bono+in+the+rain.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634275491889003890" /></a>Local critics Jon Bream and Chris Riemenschneider put together some of their highlights along with cool pics in the <a href="http://www.startribune.com/entertainment/music/126095228.html">Minneapolis Star Tribune</a>, including the surprise guest appearance by Somali hip-hop artist and former Minneapolis resident <a href="http://knaanmusic.ning.com/">K'Naan</a> and the acoustic rendition of "Stuck in a Moment" that Bono and The Edge sang for Amy Winehouse. Another great moment was when the crowd continued to sing "Pride" long after the song was over. He kind of stood there awe-struck and then clapped for us. But my favorite moment came at the end. After the band took its final bows and started leaving the stage, Bono ran back to the mic and started singing "Singin' in the Rain" for the second time, leading us all in a grand sing-along. He then waved goodnight, and we all kept singing, drenched and happy.Ellen Stanleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02842010319718712311noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7569396753917546637.post-1524748787043951772011-07-26T19:26:00.001-07:002011-07-27T09:42:58.537-07:00Falcon Ridge Folk Festival, 2011A superb weekend of music at the <a href="http://www.falconridgefolk.com">Falcon Ridge Folk Festival</a> came to its conclusion Sunday afternoon, albeit not without a touch of sadness. Ever since <a href="http://www.daveandtracy.com">Dave Carter</a> passed away nine days before he and Tracy Grammer were scheduled to perform at the 2002 festival, the Falcon Ridge mainstage has been marked by souls departed. Curiously, Tracy’s stage presence on Sunday was upbeat and cheerful, with a little off-color humor and insular banter with her bandmates. I say “curiously” because the news had slowly been filtered to the festival goers by various sources that both Amy Winehouse and Bill Morrissey had passed away over the weekend. While Winehouse was not a part of the folkie scene, Morrissey certainly had his fans at Falcon Ridge, and there were plenty of solemn faces in the Sunday afternoon audience. Combine these strands with the loss of <a href="http://www.jackhardy.com">Jack Hardy</a>, whose songs were honored in a workshop performance early Saturday evening, and a web of wistfulness was woven into the musical architecture of the weekend.<br /><br />In years past, the New Artists Showcase has been a pleasure to behold, as the novices try to make good, but I barely caught any of it this year. My late arrival combined with the blistering heat meant that my slow, staggered efforts to set up camp happened out of sight of the mainstage. Not out of earshot, however. Among other things, I heard <a href="http://www.occidentalgypsy.com">Occidental Gypsy</a>’s catchy updated gypsy jazz, a song from I’m-not-sure-who that mentions trains and was co-written with Brooks Williams, a percussion-heavy trance/trip-hop performance by <a href="http://www.bulatgafarov.com">Bulat Gafarov</a> from Moscow (who I now see has a pretty impressive resumé), <a href="http://www.paulsachs.com">Paul Sachs</a> from Jack Hardy’s crew who sang with a strong and clear voice and was accompanied by Mark Dann on bass, and a band called <a href="http://www.ilyaimy.com">ilyAIMY</a> that sounded catchy. After nine or ten performers, I walked down the hill to peruse the vendors, drink lots of water, and wait for fellow Sound of Blackbirds bloggers Matt Winters and Allan Roth to arrive.<br /><br />While waiting, I stumbled on a tent devoted to <a href="http://www.jackhardy.com">Jack Hardy</a>. In attendance was Angie Page, Jack’s partner for many years, and the mother of some of his children, including Morgan, a former student of mine. There were dozens of photographs of the great man, along with LPs and CDs of his music and of the Fast Folk recordings, and plenty of other goodies. Some of it was on display only for educational purposes, but some of it was on sale to help pay for some of Jack’s outstanding medical bills. There were two photographs of particular importance: one of Jack with Tom Waits and Ramblin’ Jack Elliot, which was just plain cool, and another of him with Matt Winters and Matt’s dad. As I later heard Morgan say to Matt’s dad, “you’ve been hanging on my dad’s wall for years!”<br /><br />A little after 2:00, Matt and Allan arrived with Matt’s friend, Mandy, and we made our way up to the campsite to play some guitar together—for me, a Falcon Ridge first—and, eventually, head down to the mainstage to enjoy the rest of the new artists and explore.<br /><br />Another Falcon Ridge tradition is the Friday night song swap. This year, we were treated to <a href="http://www.myspace.com/redhorsefolk">Red Horse</a>, the trio comprising <a href="http://www.johngorka.com">John Gorka</a>, <a href="http://www.lucykaplansky.com">Lucy Kaplansky</a>, and <a href="http://www.elizagilkyson.com">Eliza Gilkyson</a>. After opening with Neil Young’s “I Am a Child,” the remainder of the set consisted of each musician singing a song written by one of his or her bandmates or, toward the end, by him- or herself. So, John sang Lucy’s “Don’t Mind Me,” Lucy sang John’s “Blue Chalk,” and so forth. Each member of Red Horse also played 45 minute sets the following day on the mainstage, one after the other, with each singer inviting bandmates to join him/her for various songs, including ones recorded for the Red Horse album. In the context of the festival, blurring the individual and group concepts worked just fine, as the communal spirit of the festival and the folk music tradition seemed to be reflected in the combination of the properly rehearsed and the casually offhand.<br /><br />Although I think of Eliza Gilkyson as being my favorite of the three Red Horsers, both as group participants and as individual performers, I now find myself thinking more about Lucy Kaplansky’s set. She began it with “Manhattan Moon,” from one of her recent albums that I’ve yet to listen to from beginning to end and made me want to revisit all her albums. Later on, she invited her 8 year old daughter onto the stage to show off her drumming lessons on a few songs, including “End of the Day” and “Don’t Mind Me.” “Written on the Back of His Hand” is one of her best melodies, and she even found time for Loudon Wainwright’s “Swimming Song.” As for Eliza, I missed the first half of her Saturday solo performance, unfortunately, but I returned in time for “Dark Side of Town,” which Matt had requested at the top of his lungs from the seat next to me. Finally, John Gorka, who began the mainstage performances at noon on Saturday, played eight or nine songs of his own and others’ and kept my attention. The most memorable moment of his set was his performance of Tim Hardin’s “The Lady Came from Baltimore,” which fit the contours of Gorka’s warm voice just right. And, pretty much for the first time at a folk festival, I found myself hooked by some of John Gorka’s own material. Not so much the newer “Where No Monument Stands,” but older stuff like “I’m from New Jersey,” “Writing in the Margins,” and “Semper Fi.” A pleasant surprise.<br /><br />Exhaustion led me back to my tent after the song swap, so I missed the night cap—Luther “Guitar Junior” Johnson and The Magic Rockers—which sounded great from my tent, and I’m sorry I missed them. Friday night’s music was dominated by two up-tempo acts: <a href="http://www.woodstockrecords.com/biog.html">Professor Louie and the Crowmatix</a> and <a href="http://www.thehoneycutters.com">The Honeycutters</a>, neither of whom I’d heard of before this weekend. Professor Louie was a colleague of the Band’s and worked closely with them on their post-Robbie Robertson records, like <span style="font-style:italic;">Jericho</span>, a song from which the band played during their set: Bob Dylan’s “Blind Willie McTell.” Their overall sound was very similar to the Band’s, with Professor Louie himself playing keyboards and accordion, singing Levon Helm-ishly, and talking about the late Rick Danko in between songs. The Honeycutters played country music, medium-to-fast, without any aggressiveness of rhythm or attitude, but plenty of assurance and poise. The feel of the band was more Tennessee Three than Garth Brooks. There were some mandolin solos, but they punctuated the songs rather than distracting from them. And some of the songs were very good, like “Lillies,” sung from the perspective of a colonist fighting the redcoats who dies after taking a bullet to the chest, or “Firebreathing” which includes the line “you’ve got no business on the wild side,” thereby summing up a folk festival audience, including the drug-addled participants in <a href="http://www.slambovia.com">Gandalf Murphy and the Slambovian Circus of Dreams</a>’ Saturday night dance party. One of the best acts of the weekend.<br /><br />I also missed all but the final two songs from the Most Wanted Song Swap, another Falcon Ridge tradition, wherein the most popular of the previous year’s new artists return for a round robin-style performance. I’m sorry I missed it too, because what I heard from <a href="http://www.thefolkadelics.com">The Folkadelics</a> and <a href="http://www.spuytenduyvilmusic.com/">Spuyten Duyvil</a> sounded great.<br /><br />The Saturday event I was most looking forward to was the Jack Hardy tribute on the workshop stage. I’ve been working on an essay about the great man for this blog, and the events of this past weekend have stoked my interest in finishing it. Since he died, I’ve been listening to his music more often, and I sense, perhaps without good reason, that more and more people have become aware of his songs and his contributions to the music scene in New York City and beyond. The initial plan had been to leave the mainstage at around 4:30, about halfway through Mary Gauthier’s set, to make sure I didn’t miss anything. But as so often happens at these festivals, plans got derailed; I wound up missing the first 10 minutes or so. And for a damn good reason. Matt and Allan weren’t around for <a href="http://www.marygauthier.com">Mary Gauthier</a>’s set, but Matt’s friend Mandy was, and she and I sat spellbound by an artist who was so supremely in command of her gifts as a performer, that I couldn’t imagine leaving her for anything. I’ve heard part of her newest album, The Foundling, and it sounds wonderful, but she only played one song from it on Saturday afternoon. Instead, her set emphasized the material that first put her on the map. Three of the first four songs were from her excellent 1999 album <span style="font-style:italic;">Drag Queens in Limousines</span>, and she also treated us to the three best songs from <span style="font-style:italic;">Mercy Now</span> (2003): “Mercy Now,” “Prayer without Words,” and “Wheel Inside the Wheel,” the last of which sounds like Chris Smither’s “Train Home” with celebrities doing the “graveyard dancing.” In between songs, she talked earnestly about the folk music tradition, emphasizing the need to tell stories, and she told great ones in her songs, about the death row convert to Christianity, Karla Faye Tucker (“Karla Faye”), the man once elected king of the hobos, Steam Train Maury (“Last of the Hobo Kings”), the dirty sugar business in Thibodaux (“Sugar Cane”), and herself (“Drag Queens in Limousines”). With Tania Elizabeth backing her up tastefully on violin and harmony vocals, the performance was also musically astute, each melody perfectly formed and each violin lick and harmony vocal perfectly deployed. Sometimes her music even became rhythmically propulsive, like on "Prayer without Words" and “Wheel Inside the Wheel.” The singer threw out the emotional fishing rod with her opening drawl, “I hated high school / I prayed it would end,” and had us caught on the line by time she hit the climax: “sometimes you’ve gotta do / what you’ve gotta do / and pray that the people you love / will catch up with you.” Best act of the festival, by far.<br /><br />There were other fine moments. The Jack Hardy tribute, of which I only missed the first song (John Gorka’s version of “Potter’s Field”), had some good stuff in it. My favorite was probably <a href="http://www.davidmassengill.com">David Massengill</a>’s version of “Tree of Rhyme” from the <span style="font-style:italic;">Landmark</span> (1982) album, and I also liked the way that <a href="http://www.dannavarro.com">Dan Navarro</a> put his full, deep voice into “I Oughta Know.” Mary Gauthier had made her way over to the stage after her set was over and quietly climbed onto the stage with her fiddler. When it was her turn, she damn near stole the show, first by talking about what great stories everyone was telling about the man (or was she talking about the stories in the songs?), before recapping her belief in the power of songs to tell stories, which she had just been talking about on the mainstage, and then wowing us with Jack’s unrecorded “Ain’t I a Woman,” sung from the perspective of Sojourner Truth. Then, after the dinner break and a fine set of bluegrass music from <a href="http://www.dirtykitchenband.com">Dirty Kitchen</a>, <a href="http://www.gregbrown.com">Greg Brown</a> played a leisurely, laid-back set of songs, peppered with some self-amused chatter and augmented with Bo Ramsey’s electric guitar. “The Poet Game” is a great song, and I was happy to hear it, and I was also happy to hear “Let the Mystery Be,” written by his wife, <a href="http://www.irisdement.com">Iris Dement</a>. “She’s funny,” he said off-handedly, practically to himself, as he mumbled about his wife, accounting for one of the funniest moments of the weekend. “Freak Flag” and “Tenderhearted Child” from the new album, <span style="font-style:italic;">Freak Flag</span> (2011), both sounded great, and “Fat Boy Blues” made me laugh out loud. The Sunday morning gospel wakeup call, another Falcon Ridge tradition, featured some great stuff from <a href="http://www.susanwerner.com">Susan Werner</a>, particularly the decidedly un-gospel “Probably Not,” and <a href="http://www.redmolly.com">Red Molly</a>’s take on “Come on In My Kitchen.” And there was a Band tribute on the workshop stage, led by Professor Louie and <a href="http://www.terrykitchen.com">Terry Kitchen</a>, which was a lot of fun, particularly when Professor Louie himself led the way through the songs. I smiled to see Katryna Nields with her two lovely children on hand to enjoy the Band tribute. And during their own set and during the gospel set, a trio called Bro Sun offered some soulful singing.<br /><br />I only caught a few minutes of Susan Werner's set, and I sense I missed out on something great. And by leaving during Sunday afternoon, I also missed the featured act, <a href="http://www.marychapincarpenter.com">Mary Chapin Carpenter</a>, who I haven’t seen live since a beautiful, understated performance at the Meyerhoff in Baltimore sometime in the late ‘90s.<br /><br />Finally, there was <a href="http://www.tracygrammer.com">Tracy Grammer</a>, one of the acts I was most excited to see, and someone who will forever be linked, for better and for worse, to the Falcon Ridge Folk Festival. I remember quite clearly how moved I was by her performance with Dave Carter in 2000 and 2001, when they upstaged acts like Gillian Welch and David Rawlings, among others. And Dave’s workshop stage appearances, and his warm stage presence, and the 2002 tribute to him, with Erin McKeown’s “Gentle Arms of Eden,” Chris Smither’s “Crocodile Man,” Mark Erelli’s “Cowboy Singer”…I could go on. Now, 9 years after Dave Carter’s death, Tracy Grammer has long since come into her own as a performer. This time around, she appeared with a five-piece band that included Massachusetts folk scene stalwarts Dave Chalfant and Ben Demerath. Her set included a Decemberists’ song that I didn’t know, the instrumental fiddle feature “28th of January,” and a series of Dave Carter songs, including “Gentle Arms of Eden,” his greatest, and “Shadows of Evangeline,” which benefited more than the other songs by the presence of the band. I also took note of her concluding song, “The Verdant Mile,” which gave this blog its name, and also hinted at the deaths that hung over the festival—“it’s everything and nothing / when the spirit cracks the sky”—even as it embraced life which, with her chipper stage presence and happening band, Tracy seemed to be doing. She mentioned Amy Winehouse and Jack Hardy in some between-song moments and joked about her band’s name, “The Hot Nuts,” in others. And as if to verify the power of positive, life-enhancing music, the very next act, the last act I stayed for, was a Zydeco band, whose danceable rhythms and soulful vocals pretty much epitomize life. In other words, it got people up and dancing. I was about halfway up the hill, on my way back to the car, when I had to stop and listen almost to the end of their set, as a searing electric guitar solo cut through the air, splitting through the polyrhythms.<br /><br />Looking forward to next year already.Nick Toloudishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05638120254852746608noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7569396753917546637.post-63133129444042960452011-07-09T08:19:00.000-07:002011-07-10T10:15:16.352-07:00Kasey Chambers @ The Iron Horse, July 7th, 2011<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdrSox2UpF2Wst-VbDPyRdRBkeZd8oR6ex_1k6Y70UjZ8ZYPWpjyL9Q32rQqhtSzrcyQFG78h8Wr_OrR3v1Xl3JsGAGRtCeKMg0qLjtG8kPSvjtZfVWyWiEYlMRjFMn4GB-fJ0MGrg/s1600/Kasey.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 170px; height: 170px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdrSox2UpF2Wst-VbDPyRdRBkeZd8oR6ex_1k6Y70UjZ8ZYPWpjyL9Q32rQqhtSzrcyQFG78h8Wr_OrR3v1Xl3JsGAGRtCeKMg0qLjtG8kPSvjtZfVWyWiEYlMRjFMn4GB-fJ0MGrg/s320/Kasey.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5627772756306664274" /></a><br /><br />I’ve now been living in Portland, Maine for two weeks. For the purposes of my Sound of Blackbirds contributions, that means exchanging the Iron Horse for One Longfellow Square and the Calvin Theater for the State Theater. In fact, there are more possibilities for live music in the greater Portland area than there are in greater Northampton, as near as I can tell, but there’s nothing quite like the Iron Horse. And that’s one reason why, for my first concert in a couple of months, I drove three hours back to the Valley for another concert at that magnificent room.<br /><br />The other reason is Kasey Chambers. I first heard of Kasey about 10 years ago. I recall sitting in my friend Joanna’s living room in Brooklyn, listening to her friends and roommates talk with great enthusiasm about the act that upstaged Lucinda Williams at her recent Roseland concert in the city. There was an album out called <span style="font-style:italic;">The Captain</span> (2000), and a couple of them raved about it. I wasn’t sure what to make of these reports at the time; had I missed out on something big? Lucinda Williams is great, no doubt, but I had seen her be upstaged before, most notably in Baltimore, when her Shriver Hall performance felt remarkably flat after Patty Griffin torched the stage with her <span style="font-style:italic;">Flaming Red</span> (1998) songs. And I’ve also seen her open for rocks icons—the Allman Brothers in 1999, Neil Young and Crazy Horse in 2003—in a way that didn’t do justice to her own greatness. <span style="font-style:italic;">Lucinda Williams</span> (1988) and <span style="font-style:italic;">Car Wheels on a Gravel Road</span> (1998) will always be great albums, but…I digress.<br /><br />I got the answer to my question when, in early 2002, I attended an acoustic WFUV-sponsored Kasey Chambers performance at the Museum of Television and Radio in midtown Manhattan. She was touring to promote <span style="font-style:italic;">Barricades and Brickwalls</span> (2002), but I don’t think I had heard an album of hers yet. I went to the show on the recommendation of Joanna and in the company of her friend Marisa. As I type this, I’ve accessed an audio recording of that performance, available from the <a href="http://www.wfuv.org/audio/archive">WFUV archives</a>, and it sounds fabulous. What I remember best is hearing a song that I figured had to be an old Hank Williams song that she’d updated slightly and being pleasantly surprised to learn that “A Little Bit Lonesome” was a Kasey Chambers original. I also remember being completely floored by her natural instrument; her voice, I mean. Listening back today, hearing her perform “On a Bad Day” makes me wonder why I haven’t been a huge fan ever since. But the whole performance was wonderful, and so was meeting her and getting her autograph after the show.<br /><br />Even after that, however, the real breakthrough for me was seeing her with Annie in the fall of 2004 at Irving Plaza with her full band. There, she rocked. I had only listened to <span style="font-style:italic;">Wayward Angel</span> (2004) once or twice before the show but, afterwards, I began listening to it constantly. The Irving Plaza show featured not only great songs from each of her three albums, but fantastic covers of Lucinda Williams’ “Change the Locks,” harsh and rocking, and Neil Young’s “Comes a Time,” slow and acoustic with lush harmonies from her bandmates.<br /><br />And it was Annie who I took with me to see Kasey on Thursday night. This was the first time she's accompanied me to an Iron Horse show since we saw Dar Williams there in the fall of 2009, as detailed <a href="http://sundaykindoflove3shells.blogspot.com/2009/10/dar-williams-iron-horse-october-16th.html">here</a>. She drove 90 minutes or so from Vermont, I drove 3 hours from Maine—the longest drive I’ve ever taken for a concert. Since Kasey doesn’t come to the states all that often any more, I figured this could be the last chance we’d have to see her for a long time. It turns out that Kasey is 6 months pregnant with her 3rd child.<br /><br />Before she took the stage, her bandmate and father Bill Chambers entertained us with about 20 minutes of solo guitar and songs. The originals—“Theresa,” “South-end Rain,” and, best of all, “Drifting South”—worked just fine, but I was particularly impressed by the two covers. First came Mary Gauthier’s “I Drink,” which I haven’t listened to in a long time and elicited some laughter, just like I remember it doing over 10 years ago when I first heard Mary play it (opening for Richard Shindell at the Bottom Line). It’s actually a deeply serious song, about alcoholism and selfhood, and the laughs were in the same vein as the laughter that Loudon Wainwright elicits with his best material. And then there was a Fred Eaglesmith song called “Just Dreaming,” which I had never heard before. The mood of the song was interrupted a bit by an Iron Horse waitress who starting topping off my water glass without noticing that I had hard cider, not water, in the glass. But whatever. By the time the music had begun, the show had sold out, and even watered down cider couldn’t dilute my excitement.<br /><br />Kasey Chambers hit the stage at about 7:35 with her band and launched a couple of songs from her new album, <span style="font-style:italic;">Little Bird</span>, out into the room. I didn’t know these songs, but they were delicious, especially one that, I’ve since learned, is called “Beautiful Mess.” After that, the band leaned into “Last Hard Bible” from her first album, <span style="font-style:italic;">The Captain</span> (2000), drawing big applause and, from there, she and her band took us through songs from each of her albums, with a focus on the new one, and included some ace covers along the way (including a Nancy Griffith song that I didn’t know). From the opening song, her huge voice filled the room and <br /><br />Her band is sharp. Along with her immensely talented father, a second guitar player was onstage, Michael Muchow, and so was a beautiful 18 year old fiddler, Ashleigh Dallas, who was, in her own shy, rather endearing way, having the time of her life on-stage. This was, it turned out, her first time in the United States. Kasey assured us that she’d done her best to acclimate Ashleigh to American culture…by having her watch the complete <span style="font-style:italic;">My Name is Earl</span> DVD set. Michael Muchow didn’t talk much, but he smiled and laughed at Kasey’s gags. After a particularly long story from Kasey, Michael discovered that his gear wasn’t yet ready for the next song. He fiddled with it a bit and said, into the microphone, “It’s not like I haven’t had enough time to get it ready.” That crack drew some of the hardest laughter not only from us, but from Kasey, not to mention Ashley, whose eyes widened in delighted shock at that comment. The band's accompaniment was functional, direct, and to the point. Not many solos. One song, whose title I did not catch, was a Bill Chambers-Ashleigh Dallas co-write, and it was really good. Michael had only recently learned the banjo, Kasey told us, specifically to play with her on tour. He did fine, and so did Ashleigh.<br /><br />Kasey was a charming, gracious hostess. She and her band were really happy to be there. <span style="font-style:italic;">Really</span> happy. And by "there," she meant the Iron Horse in Northampton, Massachusetts. She reported that this is one of her very favorite venues in the world, a place that she talks about and yearns for playing even while they’re on the other side of the world. She joked about her pregnancy, noting that “getting knocked up” was one of her only skills outside of playing music. She told stories about her band, her travels, her children. She was cheerful and upbeat and impossible not to warm to.<br /><br />Her newest album, <span style="font-style:italic;">Little Bird</span>, is already out in Australia, and it will appear in the US next week. Based on what she played Thursday night, I sense it’s a great one. Along with “Beautiful Mess,” there was a song called “Nullarbor (The Biggest Backyard)” about her childhood, growing up in the Australian desert, a theme she first addressed in “The Nullarbor Song,” from <span style="font-style:italic;">Barricades and Brickwalls</span>. All told, she sang half a dozen songs from <span style="font-style:italic;">Little Bird</span>, and they all sounded great to me.<br /><br />What else? She played “The Captain” alone on stage. There were a bunch of <span style="font-style:italic;">Barricades and Brickwalls</span> songs—“On a Bad Day,” “Not Pretty Enough,” “Still Feeling Blue” (one of the highlights of the whole show), and, for the final encore, “Barricades and Brickwalls”—but only one song from <span style="font-style:italic;">Wayward Angel</span> –“Pony.” As her band was getting in tune for “Pony,” someone from the audience asked if she would name her next child after Ralph Stanley, a reference to a line in the song. She laughed at that and talked about the problems with naming her second child, Arlo. She and the father had wanted to name him after a great songwriter. For the father, that meant Neil Young. But Neil didn’t seem quite right to them, particular given all the Neils in the world. So they decided they’d go with Neil Young’s middle name…until they learned that his middle name was Percival. “So that’s how we settled on Arlo,” she concluded, and we all laughed. Then, “Neil Young is the coolest guy in the world...but his middle name is Percival,” and we laughed even harder.<br /><br />Toward the end of her set, she mentioned that Australians are not particularly into bluegrass music, so they had to be eased into it. That was her introduction to the band’s bluegrass medley: get-down arrangements of “Not Pretty Enough” and “The Captain,” leading into the Bee Gees' “Stayin’ Alive” and Michael Jackson's “Beat It.” This was corny, but it was also a lot of fun, particularly on account of how big and powerful the band sounds when Kasey leads them in harmony.<br /><br />The set ended with “We’re All Gonna Die Someday” from <span style="font-style:italic;">The Captain</span>, and upon returning to the stage for the encore, she assured us that there was no way she wasn’t going to return for another song or two. We could have already left, she told us, and they’d have been back to sing to the empty room. And then came a highlight of the evening, as the band played a slow, elegiac, mournful version of Hank Williams’ “I’m So Lonesome I Could Cry,” before finishing off the evening’s music with “Barricades and Brickwalls.”<br /><br />Kasey is in the US through July 16th. See <a href="http://www.kaseychambers.com/tour-info">here</a> for tour details. Seek her out, is my advice.Nick Toloudishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05638120254852746608noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7569396753917546637.post-84872554704515250742011-07-07T12:27:00.000-07:002011-07-07T13:28:31.166-07:00U2 at Soldier FieldI know that there are some haters out there, so with my apologies to you, let me say that U2 is the best damn band on the planet. <br /><br />Ellen and I were 110 percent satisfied with their appearance at Soldier Field in Chicago on Tuesday night, which was the reason behind and the last event in a wonderful Fourth of July trip to Chicago.<br /><br />We pre-gamed the show with a healthy pour of Jameson at Kitty O'Sheas, a bar in the Hilton, up Michigan Avenue from Soldier Field. The place was full of U2 fans, and there was U2 coming off the jukebox. So it was great fun to hear folks reminiscing about The Unforgettable Fire tour and talking about having seen 18 previous U2 shows or to see them jumping up and down a little bit when "Bad" came on. Ellen and I were having a lot of fun reciting our favorite lines from <i>Rattle and Hum</i>, such as B.B. King protesting that he would not be able to play the chords on "When Loves Comes to Town."<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiatl9r6rgXSWlTmdi4EwcFsPIqffa8ZI438I-AeNgy5a3exlvXZ8wQxXXHjLmSfVbozgzl9DwHVukZgalwRpgql2SjHIqaJ_pswjzYQgFLPIBj5-mIS40bj-vl9jFSmdWpPGzLpSPvr30/s1600/IMG_1331.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiatl9r6rgXSWlTmdi4EwcFsPIqffa8ZI438I-AeNgy5a3exlvXZ8wQxXXHjLmSfVbozgzl9DwHVukZgalwRpgql2SjHIqaJ_pswjzYQgFLPIBj5-mIS40bj-vl9jFSmdWpPGzLpSPvr30/s320/IMG_1331.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5626698826835940258" /></a>We arrived at Soldier Field shortly after Interpol had started their opening set. I had not known who the opening band would be until shortly before the show, and I was super-excited to hear them. But the stadium swallowed them right up. The place was about half-full, and the crowd that was there wasn't terribly excited, and the band seemed to mostly be going through the motions. Certainly, this is the way that most opening acts at a U2 concert go down, but it was disappointing nonetheless.<br /><br />(By the way, here is my bold -- if ultimately disrespectful -- suggestion for some future U2 opening band. In order to gain maximum notoriety and possibly start a riot, why not take the stage and play a complete set of U2 songs without first getting U2's approval? How unbelievably insolent would that be? Would they bring the sound down? Would the fans storm the stage? It would be a happening at the very minimum.)<br /><br />In between the acts, we discussed the provocative statistics streaming across the LED screen at some length. Those faded away, and David Bowie's "Space Oddity" ("Ground Control to Major Tom") announced the band's entrance. That recording segued seemlessly into "Even Better Than the Real Thing," and we were off for a little <i>Achtung Baby</i> action to start off the show. "The Fly" was up next. And then "Mysterious Ways" with just a touch of "Tryin' to Throw Your Arms Around the World" tagged on. Oh my! Could the <i>Achtung Baby</i> festival continue? It could! "Until the End of the World" was next.<br /><br />Then they jumped back to <i>Boy</i> for "Out of Control." And then all the way forward to <i>No Line on the Horizon</i> for "Get On Your Boots (Sexy Boots)." <br /><br />Bono took a moment to elicit some boos from the crowd by talking about Larry Mullen Jr. going to see the White Sox play. And then he also announced that Chicago Mayor Rahm Emmanuel had declared Independence Week as an extended celebration of American independence.<br /><br />With "I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For," Bono stepped away from the microphone for almost a full verse to let the crowd sing it -- some 70,000 strong. And then he talked about the band recording the songs for <i>Achtung Baby</i> and <i>Zooropa</i> before playing "Stay (Faraway, So Close)."<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOBNfqfIrXBrMeJqyWsbm-e3br44_YUof7me-llY5KcfzX8UX-UDIVnnrD-vtz7Ky0UJ7RfMbONNk8zqr-y_tXFiBxhQWgJq9C9qOpp3CzHxaxq6cngTbwNSYnCfr6UOO6rbc0F_vUizI/s1600/IMG_1335.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOBNfqfIrXBrMeJqyWsbm-e3br44_YUof7me-llY5KcfzX8UX-UDIVnnrD-vtz7Ky0UJ7RfMbONNk8zqr-y_tXFiBxhQWgJq9C9qOpp3CzHxaxq6cngTbwNSYnCfr6UOO6rbc0F_vUizI/s320/IMG_1335.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5626705208794630626" /></a>Bono announced that they would be sending the next song out to Gabby Giffords. It was "Beautiful Day," and Giffords' husband Mark Kelly appeared from the International Space Station during the song. Bono took us out of "Beautiful Day" and back into "Space Oddity" before the band moved on to "Elevation."<br /><br />Introducing "Pride," Bono waxed a little poetic about the notion of America as an idea and not just a country, and then at the end of the song, the crowd kept the vocal part going for another few rounds.<br /><br />The reference back to The Passegers' CD with "Miss Sarajevo" seemed to leave a substantial portion of the crowd scratching their heads, but the band came out of that with the more familiar "Zooropa" and then the more recent "City of Blinding Light" and "Vertigo."<br /><br />Coming back to <i>No Line on the Horizon</i> for the second time of the night, they played a really altered version of "I'll Go Crazy If I Don’t Go Crazy Tonight" that concluded with a segue into a little bit of "Discotheque" (the only reference to <i>Pop</i> in the show). "Sunday Bloody Sunday" was given a set of graphics referencing the Arab Spring protests in the Middle East, and then "Scarlet" (from <i>October</i>) was dedicated to Aung San Suu Kyi and Nelson Mandela. As it faded into "Walk On," people holding Amnesty International candles came out and filled up the whole circle around the stage and the pit.<br /><br />There was then a recorded presentation by Aung San Suu Kyi about freedom and repression in Burma that led the band into "One." Bono used Carole King's "Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow" to lead into the iconic opening arpeggios of "Where the Streets Have No Name." Ellen and I both thought that was totally brilliant.<br /><br />The obscure "Hold Me Thrill Me Kiss Me Kill Me" was followed by "With or Without You."<br /><br />Bono then hinted at the band wanting to play "One Tree Hill" in honor of the 25th death anniversary of Greg Carroll for whom the song was written. He said that he needed to consult with "the professor," and I was really excited for a brief moment until I realized that he was talking about The Edge. <br /><br />In order to get everything in place, the band played "Moment of Surrender" (the third entry from the most recent CD). And then Edge had to find the right key and make sure that his fingers could still do it, but the band closed with "One Tree Hill." And what a special moment -- to see those guys have to figure out a song that they hadn't necessarily expected to play after all of the pomp and circumstance of the show, and then to put it all out there and end the night of music.<br /><br />And so Ellen and I walked out of Soldier Field feeling sated and satisfied. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3hR-kROzA6WsUO-7paLt0KoWP-14sz0USzpjG0icyhSwEhpMcM0lretZBvKRcmP-BcXTbbizCCDWyt6d4tje7qrWEV-OyRIUGY3xIQJnBNWR9IaQj7Xv2HUJGTVp2azN8y9x57QtoDxc/s1600/IMG_1333.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3hR-kROzA6WsUO-7paLt0KoWP-14sz0USzpjG0icyhSwEhpMcM0lretZBvKRcmP-BcXTbbizCCDWyt6d4tje7qrWEV-OyRIUGY3xIQJnBNWR9IaQj7Xv2HUJGTVp2azN8y9x57QtoDxc/s320/IMG_1333.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5626709822470290018" /></a>Matt Wintershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06800809930302332420noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7569396753917546637.post-67100550159518312162011-06-27T18:32:00.000-07:002011-06-27T18:44:44.795-07:00Elton John Still Wants Some PunchBack in February, <a href="http://soundofblackbirds.blogspot.com/2011/02/elton-john-wants-some-punch.html">we reported</a> Elton John's enthusiasm for bluegrass experimentalists Punch Brothers as described to <i>Rolling Stone</i>.<br /><br />In the 28 April issue (sorry, I was out of the country for a bit), he was back at it: <blockquote>The <a href="http://www.punchbrothers.com/">Punch Brothers</a> are the best jam band I've ever seen. It's like Miles Davis meets bluegrass. I've already talked to them about working together -- I want to make a record with them that combines the Band and Fairport Convention</blockquote> Wait, wait... "That combines the Band and Fairport Convention"? <br /><br />Ok, so I'm obviously psyched that Elton John wants to make something that sounds like Fairport Convention. I'm totally in favor of this.<br /><br />But it doesn't seem like combining The Band and Fairport Convention would be all that much of a stretch, does it? I mean, Fairport Convention's 1969 album <i>Unhalfbricking</i> includes "Million Dollar Bash" from <i>The Basement Tapes</i>, which features The Band, as well as Dylan's "Percy's Song" and "Si Tu Dois Partir" (the French translation of "If You Gotta Go, Go Now"). And in general, it seems like Fairport and The Band are working a lot of the same musical territory.<br /><br />So "Miles Davis meets bluegrass," I'll give that one to Sir Elton, but he needs to work a bit harder on who he wants to mash-up with Fairport Convention.Matt Wintershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06800809930302332420noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7569396753917546637.post-12875271486564233472011-06-25T13:33:00.000-07:002011-06-25T13:48:38.626-07:00Coen Brothers to Make Dave Van Ronk Film?The Los Angeles Times is <a href="http://latimesblogs.latimes.com/movies/2011/06/ethan-joel-coen-brothers-true-grist-dave-van-ronk-folk-dylan-music.html">reporting</a> that the Coen Brothers might make a movie about Dave Van Ronk based on the book <i>The Mayor of MacDougal Street</i>. <br /><br />Mike Regenstreif <a href="http://frfb.blogspot.com/2011/06/coen-brothers-to-do-film-about-dave-van.html">spread the news</a> over at Folk Roots / Folk Branches and included some nice memories of his encounters with Van Ronk.<br /><br />Van Ronk's <i>Going Back to Brooklyn</i> was a signature album for me during my early teenage years. (What 13-year-old wouldn't memorize "The Whores of San Pedro" and then go around singing it at summer camp after all?) I also was a huge fan from an early age of his recording of "Cocaine Blues" to be found on the <i>Blues with a Feeling</i> disc that collected recordings from the Newport Folk Festival. By my late teenage years, I was listening to the classic Vanguard sides that Van Ronk recorded and just learning a whole lot about the blues. <br /><br />I saw Dave Van Ronk twice -- once at the <a href="http://www.oldsongs.org/festival/">Old Songs Festival</a>, where he told some risque story that mildly offended my eight-year-old ears and then later on (when I was a bit more equipped to appreciate such things) at the University of New Haven, where Van Ronk sadly struggled to keep his breath on stage. <br /><br />I can't say that I listen to Van Ronk all that much these days, although interestingly enough, some sort of best-of album became part of the soundtrack for my recent bus ride from Galway to Dublin. I sat there, listening to "Cocaine Blues," and thinking to myself, "Man, if I could just learn to play this song..." Well, maybe that should be a new goal for the summer.<br /><br />Regenstreif appropriately cites Tom Russell's "Van Ronk" from his album <i>Hotwalker</i> in which Russell gives the rundown on what it was like to hang out at Van Ronk's place. It's a great piece and one that Tom nicely ornaments live, too, although here is the album version for you:<br /><br /><iframe width="425" height="349" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/7MTnKO_eUc8" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe><br /><br />"Shut up and listen!"Matt Wintershttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06800809930302332420noreply@blogger.com1