He really captured wild mandolinist Frank Wakefield perfectly in this one:
Check out the rest at 2008joeval.weebly.com.
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
Frank Wakefield Photo
Based on his comment on this post, I was taking a look today at my friend Steve Ide's photos from this year's Joe Val Bluegrass Festival.
He really captured wild mandolinist Frank Wakefield perfectly in this one:
Check out the rest at 2008joeval.weebly.com.
He really captured wild mandolinist Frank Wakefield perfectly in this one:
Check out the rest at 2008joeval.weebly.com.
Richard Shindell's Blog
Richard Shindell has started a new blog. So far, he has posted a long meditation about file sharing and a short on-the-scene report from Argentina vis-a-vis some of the recent protests there over agriculture.
I was most surprised to read the following: "That copy is what economists call a non-excludable, intangible, non-rival good." And worlds collide.
I am thoroughly enjoying the Duke Ellington Birthday Broadcast on WKCR today. It lasts until midnight EDT. I think that my understanding of Ellington's style has been very limited in the past; today's broadcast has exposed me to some of his music that is more discordant and rhythmically aggressive than the music I associate with him. Quality stuff.
If you fail to catch the broadcast this year, tune in next April 29th. It will be there then from 12:00 a.m. to 11:59 p.m. (at least).
Sadly, WKCR does not have a Willie Nelson or Rev. Gary Davis Birthday Broadcast slotted for tomorrow, although I have wanted to put the latter together for years and just haven't gotten my act together to do it.
I was most surprised to read the following: "That copy is what economists call a non-excludable, intangible, non-rival good." And worlds collide.
On a Completely Different Note...
I am thoroughly enjoying the Duke Ellington Birthday Broadcast on WKCR today. It lasts until midnight EDT. I think that my understanding of Ellington's style has been very limited in the past; today's broadcast has exposed me to some of his music that is more discordant and rhythmically aggressive than the music I associate with him. Quality stuff.
If you fail to catch the broadcast this year, tune in next April 29th. It will be there then from 12:00 a.m. to 11:59 p.m. (at least).
Sadly, WKCR does not have a Willie Nelson or Rev. Gary Davis Birthday Broadcast slotted for tomorrow, although I have wanted to put the latter together for years and just haven't gotten my act together to do it.
Monday, April 28, 2008
The Greatest Resophonic Guitar Player on the Planet
Last Wednesday night, Allan and I made our way to B.B. King's for a night of country and newgrass music. I think that's what you might call it. I'm not really sure.
The opening act was The Wrights -- in their New York City debut! Adam and Shannon Wright are a husband-and-wife songwriting team from Nashville. They opened their set with the only song of theirs that I would know: "You're the Kind of Trouble," a terrific tune that Solomon Burke put on his masterful Nashville CD. (That disc, recorded at Buddy and Julie Miller's house with an all-star cast of musicians is a really fine collection of music and highly recommended.) After having opened with one of their songs that has been recorded by someone else, they segued into an unusual cover song of their own, giving us their take on Boston-based alternative rock group Morphine's song "In Spite of Me." They did a pretty nice job with that one.
They talked about being from Georgia and sang "On the Rocks," after telling the New York City crowd that it was "not like crack." That was a jazzy, nightclub-style duet between the two. Two more covers appeared later in the set: Linda Rondstadt's "These Memories of You" from the Trio album with Dolly Parton and Emmylou Harris and "In the Summertime," a Roger Miller song. They wrapped up the set with a song that Adam had written for Shannon called "You Got the Thorns" (with the lyric concluding "I got the rose.").
Their set was fine, but the stage at B.B. King's kind of ate them up. They simply did not have the stage presence to really lure the crowd in. So people sat and listened relatively politely but did not get all that excited about the set. The Wrights seemed lost on the big stage and let some downtime slip in between songs. It reminded me of Shaz Oye's opening set before Black 47's St. Patrick's Day set, where the B.B. King's stage with its two screens and constant light show had similarly eaten up a performer made for a more intimate venue.
When Jerry Douglas and his band took the stage, however, they were in full command of the room. They opened with a real spacegrass number: "Unfolding," a tune written by bassist Edgar Meyer and featuring a marvelous bass solo by Jerry Douglas Band member Todd Parks. (Sadly, after this fantastic opening solo, Todd Parks really didn't get to show off his stuff again during the show.) "The Wild Rumpus" and "We Hide and Seek" followed. The melodic figure in "We Hide and Seek" is super-inviting, this slowly descending ripple of music, essentially three notes with a couple of grace notes thrown in that keeps coming back.
Luke Bulla on fiddle consistently impressed throughout the night. From "Unfolding" onto "Route Irish" (a tune written by Jerry Douglas for the troops in Iraq and referring to the road from the airport to the Green Zone), his playing was dead on. Vocal duties also were his, so Luke sang Johnny Cash's "Don't Take Your Guns to Town" (on which Flux switched to a lap steel) and later a song called "The Suit." His voice is quite pleasant, although the Johnny Cash song stands out in my mind as a little too pretty, and the other song has not stayed with me.
Jerry Douglas's introductions to the songs were spoken slowly and with rural grit. After introducing "The Emphysema Two-Step" with the story of it being a response to a joke by an unnamed accordion player about "The Emphysema Waltz," he said, "Nice talkin' to you." I was able to later twice get Allan to laugh out loud during quiet moments in the show by repeating this simple phrase.
Introducing a tune by the jazz fusion band Weather Report, Jerry quoted some wise words from long-time Bill Monroe fiddler Kenny Baker: "You put too many chords in your number, you'll ruin your number." But they pressed ahead anyway under the guitar leadership of Guthrie Trapp, who had some mighty fast fingers but played in the "get as many notes in as you can without concern for phrasing or flavor" style that Cody Kilby also favors. I bow down at his virtuosity, but I can't entirely get behind it at the same time. It seems like it's not put to the best use possible.
Jazz also reared its head (overtly -- it was all over the place obviously) in the form of "Cave Bop," a song that Jerry wrote after -- this is what he told us -- imbibing some magical substances at the Telluride Bluegrass Festival and having a dream in which Fred Flintstone and Charlie Parker were riding in Fred Flintstone's car, which was being pushed along by Barney Rubble. Whoa. This was followed by the Alison Krauss + Union Station setlist standard "The Choctaw Hayride." The encore included "Patrick Meets the Bricbats" and one other tune.
The show was solid, but not out-of-this-world. I would have taken one or two more vocal numbers. After all, Flux does some of his finest work when he's backing up Dan Tyminski and Alison Krauss or playing with Peter Rowan. It would be great if he could incorporate this into his own band, too. Luke Bulla really did impress me, both with his fiddling and his smooth vocals, and Todd Park's opening bass solo was terrific. And at the end of the day, Jerry Douglas is the greatest resophonic guitar player on the planet, so one needs to sit back and soak that in whenever possible.
The opening act was The Wrights -- in their New York City debut! Adam and Shannon Wright are a husband-and-wife songwriting team from Nashville. They opened their set with the only song of theirs that I would know: "You're the Kind of Trouble," a terrific tune that Solomon Burke put on his masterful Nashville CD. (That disc, recorded at Buddy and Julie Miller's house with an all-star cast of musicians is a really fine collection of music and highly recommended.) After having opened with one of their songs that has been recorded by someone else, they segued into an unusual cover song of their own, giving us their take on Boston-based alternative rock group Morphine's song "In Spite of Me." They did a pretty nice job with that one.They talked about being from Georgia and sang "On the Rocks," after telling the New York City crowd that it was "not like crack." That was a jazzy, nightclub-style duet between the two. Two more covers appeared later in the set: Linda Rondstadt's "These Memories of You" from the Trio album with Dolly Parton and Emmylou Harris and "In the Summertime," a Roger Miller song. They wrapped up the set with a song that Adam had written for Shannon called "You Got the Thorns" (with the lyric concluding "I got the rose.").
Their set was fine, but the stage at B.B. King's kind of ate them up. They simply did not have the stage presence to really lure the crowd in. So people sat and listened relatively politely but did not get all that excited about the set. The Wrights seemed lost on the big stage and let some downtime slip in between songs. It reminded me of Shaz Oye's opening set before Black 47's St. Patrick's Day set, where the B.B. King's stage with its two screens and constant light show had similarly eaten up a performer made for a more intimate venue.
When Jerry Douglas and his band took the stage, however, they were in full command of the room. They opened with a real spacegrass number: "Unfolding," a tune written by bassist Edgar Meyer and featuring a marvelous bass solo by Jerry Douglas Band member Todd Parks. (Sadly, after this fantastic opening solo, Todd Parks really didn't get to show off his stuff again during the show.) "The Wild Rumpus" and "We Hide and Seek" followed. The melodic figure in "We Hide and Seek" is super-inviting, this slowly descending ripple of music, essentially three notes with a couple of grace notes thrown in that keeps coming back. Luke Bulla on fiddle consistently impressed throughout the night. From "Unfolding" onto "Route Irish" (a tune written by Jerry Douglas for the troops in Iraq and referring to the road from the airport to the Green Zone), his playing was dead on. Vocal duties also were his, so Luke sang Johnny Cash's "Don't Take Your Guns to Town" (on which Flux switched to a lap steel) and later a song called "The Suit." His voice is quite pleasant, although the Johnny Cash song stands out in my mind as a little too pretty, and the other song has not stayed with me.
Jerry Douglas's introductions to the songs were spoken slowly and with rural grit. After introducing "The Emphysema Two-Step" with the story of it being a response to a joke by an unnamed accordion player about "The Emphysema Waltz," he said, "Nice talkin' to you." I was able to later twice get Allan to laugh out loud during quiet moments in the show by repeating this simple phrase.
Introducing a tune by the jazz fusion band Weather Report, Jerry quoted some wise words from long-time Bill Monroe fiddler Kenny Baker: "You put too many chords in your number, you'll ruin your number." But they pressed ahead anyway under the guitar leadership of Guthrie Trapp, who had some mighty fast fingers but played in the "get as many notes in as you can without concern for phrasing or flavor" style that Cody Kilby also favors. I bow down at his virtuosity, but I can't entirely get behind it at the same time. It seems like it's not put to the best use possible.
Jazz also reared its head (overtly -- it was all over the place obviously) in the form of "Cave Bop," a song that Jerry wrote after -- this is what he told us -- imbibing some magical substances at the Telluride Bluegrass Festival and having a dream in which Fred Flintstone and Charlie Parker were riding in Fred Flintstone's car, which was being pushed along by Barney Rubble. Whoa. This was followed by the Alison Krauss + Union Station setlist standard "The Choctaw Hayride." The encore included "Patrick Meets the Bricbats" and one other tune.The show was solid, but not out-of-this-world. I would have taken one or two more vocal numbers. After all, Flux does some of his finest work when he's backing up Dan Tyminski and Alison Krauss or playing with Peter Rowan. It would be great if he could incorporate this into his own band, too. Luke Bulla really did impress me, both with his fiddling and his smooth vocals, and Todd Park's opening bass solo was terrific. And at the end of the day, Jerry Douglas is the greatest resophonic guitar player on the planet, so one needs to sit back and soak that in whenever possible.
Sunday, April 27, 2008
Scenes from This Morning's Moonshine Show
This morning on the Moonshine Show, I was joined by clawhammer guitarist Alec Stone Sweet. He plays an extremely unique guitar style that builds off of clawhammer banjo playing. He uses only his thumb and index finger on his right hand and then does a ton of hard work with his left hand in terms of pull-offs and hammer-ons. He strings his guitar with a skinny first string in the sixth string spot and uses a lot of drone notes to get the haunted, modal sound of the Appalachian hills. It is very original material and well worth checking out.For the second half of the show, the Columbia University undergraduate bluegrass ensemble, Lion in the Grass, played a full set of music from our main studio. These kids get credit -- academic credit, I mean -- for playing bluegrass. They did a nice set of bluegrass classics: "Back Up and Push," "Fox on the Run," a banjoless version of "Talk of the Town," a beautiful duet version of "Lay Down My Old Guitar," "Drifting Too Far from the Shore," "Big Spike Hammer" and "Wreck on the Highway," and then they wrapped up with a version of Frank Wakefield's "New Camptown Races." There were a lot of them!
Thanks to Dan Shapiro for coming by and taking some photographs!
Thursday, April 24, 2008
What's for Breakfast?
Wow. People are blogging about what they eat while listening to the Moonshine Show. And including photos no less.
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
A Transplanted Minnesotan in New York
A few weeks ago, I received an e-mail from a young man named Carl Creighton asking if he could make an appearance on the Moonshine Show to promote his upcoming CD release party. I took a cursory listen to the tracks on his MySpace page and wrote back saying, "Sorry, kid, you need a few more banjos and mandolins to be Moonshine material. But I'll make a note of the show in my calendar." Well, I did write down the gig in my calendar, but I didn't actually expect to go.
However, a later e-mail from Teddy Goldstein, an old friend from the Postcrypt days and an artist that Ellen used to do some booking for, said that he was playing the Living Room on the same night. So I figured that I would check out the evening. (Of course, the usual New York scene prevailed at the venue -- the folks who had come to hear Carl mostly got up and left when Teddy hit the stage, and a new crowd of Teddy Goldstein fans came in to take their seats. Neither artist made reference to each other during their set. And so goes the New York acoustic scene.)
Carl Creighton's set was a very pleasant surprise. He started off on piano and switched to guitar for the majority of the set with a brief visit back to the piano. He had a bassist and a drummer playing with him, and a couple of guest harmony vocalists graced the stage over the course of the night (Erin Regan and also Mimi Lavalley, who herself has recently appeared on the Moonshine Show with the band Hogzilla). The sound of the band was straight ahead, and they played together well. The best part was that Carl's vocals stayed very clear and out front of the band -- dynamically speaking, not rhythmically speaking -- this was great because this guy has some clever lyrics up his sleeve.
As far as I can remember, Carl played exclusively songs from the new CD Minnesota -- this being a CD release party and all. The two main themes of the CD are that of boy from Minnesota making his way in the big city and the family that Carl has left behind, including a sister who died.
The first song on the CD, "Smoking is Ugly," jumps right into the first theme with its chorus of "If money's an issue in New York, / You can go back to where you're from. / Mother's holding down the fort, / Sending you props so you will come back home." The second verse nicely describes paying too much for coffee, tipping the waitress for being pretty and giving her a gig flyer in the hopes that she'll come.
Similarly, both the title track, "Minnesota," and a song called "El Paso," look outward to those places from New York.
"Minnesota" is sung with a haunting Great Plains pace and a beautifully sparse piano accompaniment. A verse that comes around twice is
"'Cause my home is in Minnesota --
You can't compete with 10,000 lakes.
And I won't regret one iota;
I've already made my fair share of mistakes."
But the real kicker is the chorus that gets altered a little bit each time:
"If I ever do come back to you sometime,
Momma's going to worry herself sick.
If I ever do come back to you sometime,
You're going to have to be less of a prick,"
and then
"If I ever do come back to you sometime,
It'll be to visit, not to stay."
"El Paso" similarly is about trying to figure out where you belong. Over the course of the song, the lines, "We weren't meant for this town; / You were meant for me," evolve into the repeated demand at the end of the song, "We weren't meant for this town; / We were meant for us."
In a more whimsical song, Carl pontificates on the existence and extinction of lightbulbs:
"There's a lightbulb in the garbage
Waiting to be taken out
To meet all its fallen brothers
That it left back in aisle nine
When some sucker came and bought it
For to burn bright and die a sudden death."
The chorus on "Never Gave You My Guitar" has a few clever turns of phrase and seems like one that many of us can identify with:
"Sure I could play 'Sweet Jane' or 'Heart and Soul,'
But the quarter notes don't make me whole.
I need a left hand to play to my right.
Sure I could play 'Sweet Jane' or 'Heart and Soul,'
Before the liquor finally takes its toll.
I think I'll cover Leonard Cohen and call it a night."
(Leonard Cohen also gets name checked in the song "Live Tonight" on the CD.)
One of the nicest things about Carl's compositional style is his wise use of rhythm. On different songs, he arranges the words in such a way that you don't get what your ear is expecting. This is never done in a jarring way; rather, Carl is able to add emphasis to his lyrics through his vocal phrasing in a way that many more established musicians should find themselves envious of.
Teddy Goldstein's set was very similar to one that I heard him perform at the Living Room back in January. As in that set, he had the excellent bassist Tim Luntzel playing with him on the upright bass, although I felt that back in January, Teddy let Tim open up a bit more on bass -- I was dying for Teddy to throw him a solo because I really do dig his playing.
With Teddy taking requests, I asked for "Refugee" from The Love Lot CD, and Teddy obliged, although he forgot the third verse, and I could be of no help there, so I ended up feeling bad about the request. (In retrospect, I think I should have asked for "Montana," a great tune that I haven't heard him play in a while.) Some other audience members asked for "Off-Road Automobile" from Teddy's first CD, which is a solid tongue-in-cheek song about trying to figure out whether or not you should trade your baby in.
And after Teddy's set ended, rather than sticking around to see who was next -- certainly no one announced the name of the performer -- I did the New York thing and headed out into the lovely spring evening air.
Carl Creighton's next gig is at Fat Baby on May 3rd. I've only been there once -- to see Mother Banjo! What a show that was!
However, a later e-mail from Teddy Goldstein, an old friend from the Postcrypt days and an artist that Ellen used to do some booking for, said that he was playing the Living Room on the same night. So I figured that I would check out the evening. (Of course, the usual New York scene prevailed at the venue -- the folks who had come to hear Carl mostly got up and left when Teddy hit the stage, and a new crowd of Teddy Goldstein fans came in to take their seats. Neither artist made reference to each other during their set. And so goes the New York acoustic scene.)
Carl Creighton's set was a very pleasant surprise. He started off on piano and switched to guitar for the majority of the set with a brief visit back to the piano. He had a bassist and a drummer playing with him, and a couple of guest harmony vocalists graced the stage over the course of the night (Erin Regan and also Mimi Lavalley, who herself has recently appeared on the Moonshine Show with the band Hogzilla). The sound of the band was straight ahead, and they played together well. The best part was that Carl's vocals stayed very clear and out front of the band -- dynamically speaking, not rhythmically speaking -- this was great because this guy has some clever lyrics up his sleeve.As far as I can remember, Carl played exclusively songs from the new CD Minnesota -- this being a CD release party and all. The two main themes of the CD are that of boy from Minnesota making his way in the big city and the family that Carl has left behind, including a sister who died.
The first song on the CD, "Smoking is Ugly," jumps right into the first theme with its chorus of "If money's an issue in New York, / You can go back to where you're from. / Mother's holding down the fort, / Sending you props so you will come back home." The second verse nicely describes paying too much for coffee, tipping the waitress for being pretty and giving her a gig flyer in the hopes that she'll come.
Similarly, both the title track, "Minnesota," and a song called "El Paso," look outward to those places from New York.
"Minnesota" is sung with a haunting Great Plains pace and a beautifully sparse piano accompaniment. A verse that comes around twice is
"'Cause my home is in Minnesota --
You can't compete with 10,000 lakes.
And I won't regret one iota;
I've already made my fair share of mistakes."
But the real kicker is the chorus that gets altered a little bit each time:
"If I ever do come back to you sometime,
Momma's going to worry herself sick.
If I ever do come back to you sometime,
You're going to have to be less of a prick,"
and then
"If I ever do come back to you sometime,
It'll be to visit, not to stay."
"El Paso" similarly is about trying to figure out where you belong. Over the course of the song, the lines, "We weren't meant for this town; / You were meant for me," evolve into the repeated demand at the end of the song, "We weren't meant for this town; / We were meant for us."
In a more whimsical song, Carl pontificates on the existence and extinction of lightbulbs:
"There's a lightbulb in the garbage
Waiting to be taken out
To meet all its fallen brothers
That it left back in aisle nine
When some sucker came and bought it
For to burn bright and die a sudden death."
The chorus on "Never Gave You My Guitar" has a few clever turns of phrase and seems like one that many of us can identify with:
"Sure I could play 'Sweet Jane' or 'Heart and Soul,'
But the quarter notes don't make me whole.
I need a left hand to play to my right.
Sure I could play 'Sweet Jane' or 'Heart and Soul,'
Before the liquor finally takes its toll.
I think I'll cover Leonard Cohen and call it a night."
(Leonard Cohen also gets name checked in the song "Live Tonight" on the CD.)
One of the nicest things about Carl's compositional style is his wise use of rhythm. On different songs, he arranges the words in such a way that you don't get what your ear is expecting. This is never done in a jarring way; rather, Carl is able to add emphasis to his lyrics through his vocal phrasing in a way that many more established musicians should find themselves envious of.
Teddy Goldstein's set was very similar to one that I heard him perform at the Living Room back in January. As in that set, he had the excellent bassist Tim Luntzel playing with him on the upright bass, although I felt that back in January, Teddy let Tim open up a bit more on bass -- I was dying for Teddy to throw him a solo because I really do dig his playing.With Teddy taking requests, I asked for "Refugee" from The Love Lot CD, and Teddy obliged, although he forgot the third verse, and I could be of no help there, so I ended up feeling bad about the request. (In retrospect, I think I should have asked for "Montana," a great tune that I haven't heard him play in a while.) Some other audience members asked for "Off-Road Automobile" from Teddy's first CD, which is a solid tongue-in-cheek song about trying to figure out whether or not you should trade your baby in.
And after Teddy's set ended, rather than sticking around to see who was next -- certainly no one announced the name of the performer -- I did the New York thing and headed out into the lovely spring evening air.
Carl Creighton's next gig is at Fat Baby on May 3rd. I've only been there once -- to see Mother Banjo! What a show that was!
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
Graduate Students with Too Much Time on Their Hands
On his development blog, Chris Blattman posted some links to two recent music videos produced by graduate students in Berkeley's economics department: "(I Can't Write No) Dissertation" and "Stronger." (For those of you not hip to maximum likelihood estimation techniques, I fear that many of the jokes will be lost, however.)
These reminded me of some classics from the Columbia Business School: "Dean, Dean Baby" and "Every Breath You Take."
Now you know what graduate students do all day. (And professors and deans, too, apparently.)
These reminded me of some classics from the Columbia Business School: "Dean, Dean Baby" and "Every Breath You Take."
Now you know what graduate students do all day. (And professors and deans, too, apparently.)
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
Rose Cousins and Edie Carey in Portland
Alright, I have been shamefully absent here, and all I can say in my defense is that I just bought a house and that was somewhat time-consuming. BUT, I did have a chance to discover a great new singer-songwriter last Thursday at Portland's Mississippi Studios. Her name is Rose Cousins, she's from Halifax, Nova Scotia, and she shared a bill with headliner/longtime favorite of mine, Edie Carey (probably one of the most frequently promoted Shining City artists, up there with Tracy Grammer, Myshkin and maybe Jeffrey Foucault.). Rachael Sage played a set in between.Now Edie had been telling me about Rose for years, but I had never
managed to hear her. She is the real deal in the singer-songwriter category. She really blew me away (and this does not happen often), and the friend I brought fell in love with her, too. She has a voice that you could listen to forever, and she has the folk-pop songwriting things nailed. Honest vulnerable lyrics and catchy choruses. And, the best dry sense of humor. One, in fact, extremely similar to Edie's (and I have always said she makes me laugh more than most people in the world). They were on stage together a good amount of the time, and the harmonies and banter were priceless; they absolutely nailed both. And, at the end of the night, they did a cover of the 80s hit "Broken Wings" by Mister Mister. You know, Take these broken wings, and learn to fly again, learn to live so free... They had everyone belting it out. And admit it, there's nothing more fun than singing cheesy 80s songs at the top of your lungs, or hearing your favorite artists make the song sound way better than it ever was before.
I would highly recommend that anyone reading this go order Rose's most recent album, If You Were For Me, right now (also available on iTunes). It's won a slew of Canadian music awards and is just gorgeous. Plus, I am fond of the cover art.Rose and Edie are currently touring the southwest (CA, AZ, NM), and you really owe it to yourself to see them together. I'm sure it'll happen again in other parts of both their countries, if you miss them this time. After this tour, Rose will be at Club Passim in Cambridge MA on May 2 and Edie heads to the Midwest (and is pretty much on tour all summer and at all times).
I promise to try to post more often here, and am probably prone to writing mostly about female singer-songwriters, but if you miss me, you can visit my personal blog or my business web site. See sidebar.
Tongue of Wood
My pseudononymous friend Divad Snevets has started a new Onion-style blog called Tongue of Wood. Check it out.
The Irish Have Been Coming Here for Years
As the previous posts on this blog suggest, I can often be found at the more hip and exclusive folk music venues around town. This was again the case on Sunday afternoon when I found my way into the rec room of the Lenox Hill Neighborhood House, the Upper East Side equivalent of a senior citizens' center, to hear a touch of Celtic music.
Although I was a minority in the age demographic, everyone started having a grand time as soon as Munnelly, Flaherty and Masure took the stage. I had seen accordionist David Munnelly play with his full band this past summer at the Old Songs Festival, where his Friday night concert set was marred by some rather unfortunate sound problems, and the band's discontent with the situation became increasingly apparent over the course of the set. But he had stuck in my mind as a notably energetic and enthusiastic performer, and I was certainly ready to make the trek over to the forbidden land of the Upper East Side to see what he had up his sleeve with this new trio that includes Scottish vocalist Helen Flaherty and Belgian guitarist Philip Masure.
The band opened with a set of reels, and David Munnelly's leg slapped down the beat on the stage with great force--he lets it bang around loosely, like a limberjack's leg--and he would punctuate the tunes with the occasional loud yelp as well. (If you were not paying attention and you heard him do this, you might think that he had caught his nose in his accordion or something.) Then Helen Flaherty showed off her vocal skills on a classic Scottish ballad where the young lady's father kills her suitor and then tries to make recompense, but the daughter is having none of it. Munnelly greeted the applause at the end of this song with an appropriate "T'anks very much!" (I guess he hasn't gotten the memo yet.)
"Dr. Picard," given to a Belgian friend as a birthday gift, was the next tune, and Helen Flaherty started playing some bodhran on it. As she would describe at the end of the concert--when the audience was allowed to ask questions--her bodhran was Bavarian in origin. To me, it seemed much deeper than a typical bodhran, and she also spent a fair amount of time tuning it (sticking her head inside the drum to hear the change in tone), which I have not noticed before at Irish concerts.
Some other nice tunes in the set included a set that began with a Venezuelan dance (simply called "La Partita") and segued into an Irish tune and then a Flemish tune and then another Irish tune. Munnelly let loose a loud scream during that one! And then "Whenever," the title track from their CD, which might have been composed either by David or his brother. As David tells the story, he brought home the tapes from the recording session and started playing them, and his brother said, "Oh, you've recorded my tune!" And David said, "I didn't think so, but maybe I have." David also pointed out for us that CDs are "multi-functional": "You can buy a CD for people you like... or for people you hate!"
A New York composer cropped up at last when David announced, "We're going to really annoy you now by playing two Jewish tunes. The great thing about playing Irish music is that you can play more of other types of music because nobody really wants to hear Irish tunes." These were two Andy Statman tunes--Andy received applause from no one in the audience besides me, I am sad to report--and David had learned them during his time playing with legendary Irish band De Dannan. Philip Masure picked up the cittern for these tunes and for the final set of the afternoon. (During the final set of tunes, he even gracefully shifted capo position mid-set. I always appreciate feats of skill like that.)
David Munnelly introduced that final set by saying, "We're coming to the end of our performance," and then when the sounds of disappointment from the crowd were not as loud as expected, "I said, 'We're coming to the end of our performance here,'" and then finally, "Let's try that again! Say it like you mean it! Raaarh!" And so we did. The band answered a few questions after the performance.
I am pleased to note that they will be making a stop in my future home of Champaign, Illinois, on April 20th, playing at the Piper's Hut. I am pleased to note this because it indicates the presence of an Irish music series in the Champaign-Urbana metropolitan area! Woo!
And finally, for completists, you can find the band's stage specifications and meal preferences here.
Since that afternoon concert clearly was not enough Irish music for me, I joined up with Rebecca and Dan who were going to a session at a pub on 30th Street called The Crooked Knife. (Rebecca was in the midst of a weekend of celebrations surrounding the successful defense of her dissertation. Dan threw quite the party for her on Friday night!) The session had been recommended by their friend Tim who is a guitarist that attends a number of different Irish sessions around the City.
Unfortunately, the band described on the pub's website--Heather Martin Bixler on fiddle, Jon Hicks on guitar and Brian Conway on fiddle--was not the band performing on Sunday night. Instead there was a female vocalist and guitarist and a lead tenor banjo player. Although I never caught their names, they proved ready to put on an enjoyable evening of tunes. The banjo fills and solos were particularly nice.
I mostly did not know the songs that they were playing--and I have no ear for recognizing Irish tunes when they are not being introduced. So the only song from the first set that I really knew was "The Raggle Taggle Gypsy," although several others sounded familiar. When they covered the Saw Doctors' "The Green and Red of Mayo" during their second set, I really started to feel it. And then the next song was a cover of Dougie Maclean's "Caledonia," which is a brilliant song. But the hour was getting late, so we couldn't stick around to see what was next in store for us but rather headed out into the New York night.
Although I was a minority in the age demographic, everyone started having a grand time as soon as Munnelly, Flaherty and Masure took the stage. I had seen accordionist David Munnelly play with his full band this past summer at the Old Songs Festival, where his Friday night concert set was marred by some rather unfortunate sound problems, and the band's discontent with the situation became increasingly apparent over the course of the set. But he had stuck in my mind as a notably energetic and enthusiastic performer, and I was certainly ready to make the trek over to the forbidden land of the Upper East Side to see what he had up his sleeve with this new trio that includes Scottish vocalist Helen Flaherty and Belgian guitarist Philip Masure.The band opened with a set of reels, and David Munnelly's leg slapped down the beat on the stage with great force--he lets it bang around loosely, like a limberjack's leg--and he would punctuate the tunes with the occasional loud yelp as well. (If you were not paying attention and you heard him do this, you might think that he had caught his nose in his accordion or something.) Then Helen Flaherty showed off her vocal skills on a classic Scottish ballad where the young lady's father kills her suitor and then tries to make recompense, but the daughter is having none of it. Munnelly greeted the applause at the end of this song with an appropriate "T'anks very much!" (I guess he hasn't gotten the memo yet.)
"Dr. Picard," given to a Belgian friend as a birthday gift, was the next tune, and Helen Flaherty started playing some bodhran on it. As she would describe at the end of the concert--when the audience was allowed to ask questions--her bodhran was Bavarian in origin. To me, it seemed much deeper than a typical bodhran, and she also spent a fair amount of time tuning it (sticking her head inside the drum to hear the change in tone), which I have not noticed before at Irish concerts.
Some other nice tunes in the set included a set that began with a Venezuelan dance (simply called "La Partita") and segued into an Irish tune and then a Flemish tune and then another Irish tune. Munnelly let loose a loud scream during that one! And then "Whenever," the title track from their CD, which might have been composed either by David or his brother. As David tells the story, he brought home the tapes from the recording session and started playing them, and his brother said, "Oh, you've recorded my tune!" And David said, "I didn't think so, but maybe I have." David also pointed out for us that CDs are "multi-functional": "You can buy a CD for people you like... or for people you hate!"A New York composer cropped up at last when David announced, "We're going to really annoy you now by playing two Jewish tunes. The great thing about playing Irish music is that you can play more of other types of music because nobody really wants to hear Irish tunes." These were two Andy Statman tunes--Andy received applause from no one in the audience besides me, I am sad to report--and David had learned them during his time playing with legendary Irish band De Dannan. Philip Masure picked up the cittern for these tunes and for the final set of the afternoon. (During the final set of tunes, he even gracefully shifted capo position mid-set. I always appreciate feats of skill like that.)
David Munnelly introduced that final set by saying, "We're coming to the end of our performance," and then when the sounds of disappointment from the crowd were not as loud as expected, "I said, 'We're coming to the end of our performance here,'" and then finally, "Let's try that again! Say it like you mean it! Raaarh!" And so we did. The band answered a few questions after the performance.
I am pleased to note that they will be making a stop in my future home of Champaign, Illinois, on April 20th, playing at the Piper's Hut. I am pleased to note this because it indicates the presence of an Irish music series in the Champaign-Urbana metropolitan area! Woo!
And finally, for completists, you can find the band's stage specifications and meal preferences here.
Feel Like They Own the Place
Since that afternoon concert clearly was not enough Irish music for me, I joined up with Rebecca and Dan who were going to a session at a pub on 30th Street called The Crooked Knife. (Rebecca was in the midst of a weekend of celebrations surrounding the successful defense of her dissertation. Dan threw quite the party for her on Friday night!) The session had been recommended by their friend Tim who is a guitarist that attends a number of different Irish sessions around the City.
Unfortunately, the band described on the pub's website--Heather Martin Bixler on fiddle, Jon Hicks on guitar and Brian Conway on fiddle--was not the band performing on Sunday night. Instead there was a female vocalist and guitarist and a lead tenor banjo player. Although I never caught their names, they proved ready to put on an enjoyable evening of tunes. The banjo fills and solos were particularly nice.
I mostly did not know the songs that they were playing--and I have no ear for recognizing Irish tunes when they are not being introduced. So the only song from the first set that I really knew was "The Raggle Taggle Gypsy," although several others sounded familiar. When they covered the Saw Doctors' "The Green and Red of Mayo" during their second set, I really started to feel it. And then the next song was a cover of Dougie Maclean's "Caledonia," which is a brilliant song. But the hour was getting late, so we couldn't stick around to see what was next in store for us but rather headed out into the New York night.
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