I've had plenty of gigs from the other place (h-e-double toothpicks, as my brother used to say). But Saturday, June 26 was quite the other way.
I must say that I was not in the right frame of mind going in. Work had been difficult (not killer hours, but a stressful time). The gig had been "on the books" for a long time, which presents its own challenges (you think you have oodles of time, so you end up wasting it all). This particular weekend, it was one of four performances, with prior two weekends leading up being three-fers themselves.
So the gig in question was playing a concert in the series that the White County Historical Society had set up. I grew up in White County (Carmi, to be precise), and the local historical society had gotten a nice grant from the Smithsonian for a presentation on "Roots Music". They supplemented the museum presentation with concerts, and wanted me to do one on the history of blues and/or jazz, more or less. I had something of a free reign within that general directive to do what I wanted. A week or so before the concert I reviewed the write up I had done on what the program involved, and realized I had bitten off more than could reasonably be accomplished in a short evening:
"Program Description: We will trace the history of jazz and blues in the 20th century, giving an historical perspective of the music. That perspective will include the influences jazz and blues had on each other as distinct genres, the similarities and differences between jazz and the blues, and the influences of both on other popular music genres in the 20th century--most notably rock and roll, country, "soul" music and the big band/swing music of the 1940s.
We will also touch upon what makes jazz "jazz"? What kind of music do jazz musicians read? Do they in fact read music? How do they voice chords in a jazz style?"
Luckily, I saved myself by including a last line: "But mostly it will be about playing and listening to great music."
The bass player had unexpectedly canceled less than a week before the show. I lucked out and found a great replacement (not easy for a summer Saturday - it's wedding season!). When I sent around a tune list for the guys, David remarked I had enough for a three-day jazz festival. But I had not figured out exactly what we were doing by that time.
But I had been sorting it out in my head and had a decent idea. I drove to Carmi Saturday afternoon. I was exhausted when I arrived, so I took a nap, then about 4 p.m. jotted out the rough sketches of what we would play, in what order, and what I'd say in between. I'd made 50 copies of the program and the players' bios (John Farrar, guitar, Eric Marshall, piano, and David Certain, bass - no drummer because the acoustics of the First United Methodist Church would not have worked with that). I was wondering if I was wildly optimistic. I thought it a possibility 20 people might show - I would have been very happy with 50.
Nervous is not the right word to describe my feelings as I went down to the church. I didn't know who would show, I didn't know if the program would go over, I didn't know if I'd get tongue-tied. I thought people might just be polite after the concert (people in Carmi are not the types generally to say they didn't like something like that). I wondered if the musicians would be annoyed for having to drive 2+ hours from St. Louis to get to the gig. I didn't know if they'd show up five minutes before it started (or five after!).
But as I arrived at about 6:20 or 6:25, I was the last musician to arrive. Concert attendees had started to show. We got all set up, and I was miked up for talking. The wonderful grand piano dedicated to my grandfather Max had been rolled out prominently, with the lid up so it could be heard in all its glory. My max goal of 50 people had showed up by about 6:35 for the 7:00 show, and they were reproducing my program in the church office like mad for the anticipated crowd. The musicians went back to the church school area (like a giant "green room") and we just chilled out and talked before the show.
And we walked out at 7:00 p.m. sharp (you don't start late in Carmi!). The place was packed (137 they told me later - great crowd!). We smacked them with Back at the Chicken Shack, a Jimmy Smith blues. It was an hour and 20 minutes of jazz and blues, a little tutorial on some historical facts. We ended with the Chuck Mangione '70s classic Feels So Good, and I don't think the St. Louis guys were prepared for the reaction (neither was I, but they were completely flat-footed). They had no idea that was my "coming out" tune back in 1979 at my freshman year One Niter. Mike Croghan went nuts for it, as did everyone else. So much so, David looked at me and said "we need to do an encore" - so we demonstrated the I Got Rhythm changes using the Flintstone's theme. You get a sense for when people really like a show - and Carmi really really liked this show. And the musicians loved playing to this crowd who just ate it up, and could have sat there for another couple of hours, or so it seemed. And it was a real jazz program! Who knew?
Lots of great friends there too (Sarah (Lewis) Johnsoton, Scott Fechtig, and Jana Potorff, etc.) Wish Scott Wylie could've made it, but we hung out with him, Sarah, and the jazz musicians at the Yellow Tavern afterwards.
Anyway, it was exhilarating. My favorite concert in a long, long time. Thanks Marjorie, Gary, Mom and Dad, Croghan, Sarah, Scott, Jana (and Doug Hayes, for running the mike)! I'll remember this one for a long time.
Showing posts with label Blues. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Blues. Show all posts
Saturday, July 10, 2010
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
Main Entrance or Service Entrance?
Weekend before last was a lot of fun. Friday night was a Voodoo Blues Band gig at the Jeff Ruby's Steakhouse at the new River City Casino in South St. Louis. We were there with our wonderful singer, Roland Johnson, who uses the Voodoo band for some of his gigs. (Roland also makes frequent use of some of the members of Kim Massie's band - really wonderful musicians.) Roland really works well with the band, and tailors his material to the Voodoo band's and his mutual strengths - the Otis Redding, James Brown and Al Green "soul" songbook, breaking out some old Otis tunes in particular that featured the Stax lineup of Booker T & the MG's plus the Memphis Horns.
It was a treat in particular because "the boss" showed up - Cincinnati Restauranteur Jeff Ruby was at the bar checking out his newest spot: http://www.jeffruby.com/. Mr. Ruby thought the music was a bit loud for his taste, but a few cocktails later he was up on the bandstand with us, and by darn he knew some of tunes cold - not half bad on Knock on Wood!
The next night was the Siteman Cancer Illumination Gala. It was a fun evening with a good table - everyone knew each other and was happy to hang out. It was also fun to see the high-end auction and the special host - basketball legend Kareem Abdul-Jabbar. He is of course amazingly tall (7'2"), but his hands were so big and his fingers so long - imagining how he used to grip that basketball like most of us grip a softball. He was an excellent host, and it was fun to think about the fact that he is the NBA's all-time leading scorer. That's a pretty amazing feat. Like all records, it will fall some day, but to think of how many great players who have come before and since, and he outscored them all.
So I was thinking - it is nice to use the main entrance and be one of the "in" crowd (even if not that far in - I wasn't in a position (like some) to pony up a $100,000 donation on the spot). But I also like being the "help", having to slip in through the service entrance, toting my own gear, and accompanying the "boss-man" when he wants to take the stage. I wouldn't want to give up that aspect of my life.
It was a treat in particular because "the boss" showed up - Cincinnati Restauranteur Jeff Ruby was at the bar checking out his newest spot: http://www.jeffruby.com/. Mr. Ruby thought the music was a bit loud for his taste, but a few cocktails later he was up on the bandstand with us, and by darn he knew some of tunes cold - not half bad on Knock on Wood!
The next night was the Siteman Cancer Illumination Gala. It was a fun evening with a good table - everyone knew each other and was happy to hang out. It was also fun to see the high-end auction and the special host - basketball legend Kareem Abdul-Jabbar. He is of course amazingly tall (7'2"), but his hands were so big and his fingers so long - imagining how he used to grip that basketball like most of us grip a softball. He was an excellent host, and it was fun to think about the fact that he is the NBA's all-time leading scorer. That's a pretty amazing feat. Like all records, it will fall some day, but to think of how many great players who have come before and since, and he outscored them all.
So I was thinking - it is nice to use the main entrance and be one of the "in" crowd (even if not that far in - I wasn't in a position (like some) to pony up a $100,000 donation on the spot). But I also like being the "help", having to slip in through the service entrance, toting my own gear, and accompanying the "boss-man" when he wants to take the stage. I wouldn't want to give up that aspect of my life.
Sunday, October 11, 2009
As good as it gets
My sis once told me (before I had a kid) that there's no way to describe how much you love your own kid. I figured that was probably true at the time, but when you've had a kid, then you know - there is in fact no way to adequately describe it.
It's hard to appreciate as well how proud you can be of your kids as they progress in life. It dwarfs any feelings about what you yourself may have accomplished. When I see my son perform in any capacity (school play, graduation speech, living museum at school, his band at the Rock School), the chest swells out.
But man, how about jamming with him with your own beloved band in your hometown? I can't imagine it getting any better than that. On the Corn Day stage with the Voodoo Blues Band, having the boy come up and do his thing on Albert King. Whoah.
This was a great day. I wanted to share the band with my hometown folks. I wanted to share my hometown and my family and friends there with my band buddies. I've been happy to share my music with my son - and to see him take to Albert King and the blues (and start picking out tunes he wants to do) - ok, not his first, first choice of what to do--but, still, he's not playing the blues because Dad makes him; he digs it. And I wanted my boy to show everyone he's got game on the bass. Everyone came out a winner.
As great as it was to have the band play, the best two things were (1) having that boy on the stage grooving on I'll Play the Blues For You, and then Crosscut Saw (funky version, circa 1972), both out the Albert King playbook and (2) seeing the Voodoo Blues Band being welcomed by my wonderful family at my house. Thank you, thank you, thank you to my wonderful parents for being such great hosts - my Dad just talking to everyone, making them feel right at home, my Mom and her delicious pies (the look on their faces as they ate that wonderful crust!), and my sis and brother-in-law for the incredible work on the chowder. Those guys dug into that chowder like you'd never believe - I think some of the guys would have done just as well to pull up a chair to the pot! And thanks to the Voodoo Band for doing the gig--a long drive to some place they only vaguely knew about (except for Mr. Marshall). A leap of faith--thanks guys!
It's hard to appreciate as well how proud you can be of your kids as they progress in life. It dwarfs any feelings about what you yourself may have accomplished. When I see my son perform in any capacity (school play, graduation speech, living museum at school, his band at the Rock School), the chest swells out.
But man, how about jamming with him with your own beloved band in your hometown? I can't imagine it getting any better than that. On the Corn Day stage with the Voodoo Blues Band, having the boy come up and do his thing on Albert King. Whoah.
This was a great day. I wanted to share the band with my hometown folks. I wanted to share my hometown and my family and friends there with my band buddies. I've been happy to share my music with my son - and to see him take to Albert King and the blues (and start picking out tunes he wants to do) - ok, not his first, first choice of what to do--but, still, he's not playing the blues because Dad makes him; he digs it. And I wanted my boy to show everyone he's got game on the bass. Everyone came out a winner.
As great as it was to have the band play, the best two things were (1) having that boy on the stage grooving on I'll Play the Blues For You, and then Crosscut Saw (funky version, circa 1972), both out the Albert King playbook and (2) seeing the Voodoo Blues Band being welcomed by my wonderful family at my house. Thank you, thank you, thank you to my wonderful parents for being such great hosts - my Dad just talking to everyone, making them feel right at home, my Mom and her delicious pies (the look on their faces as they ate that wonderful crust!), and my sis and brother-in-law for the incredible work on the chowder. Those guys dug into that chowder like you'd never believe - I think some of the guys would have done just as well to pull up a chair to the pot! And thanks to the Voodoo Band for doing the gig--a long drive to some place they only vaguely knew about (except for Mr. Marshall). A leap of faith--thanks guys!
Monday, September 21, 2009
It's blogging time
To paraphrase Ben Grim, a/k/a, the Thing, from the Fantastic Four. (Which, by the way, is one of the worst comic book movie adaptations going. Trust me, I loved comic books and still love movies, so I should know!)
A busy week of playing last week. Wednesday I was the featured sit-in with the Park Avenue Jazz boys at Hammerstone's (always a treat). They always seem to call at least one tune I don't know that ends up going into my list of new favorites, and this was no exception--Triste by Jobim.
Saturday I was part of the Jazz and Blues Revue at the Old Webster Jazz Festival with Anita Rosamond. Actually, Anita and her manager put the group together, and it was billed as a triple leader feature--Anita, guitarist Rich McDonough, and pianist/singer Jessi Gannon. I was playing alongside Lew ("Blue Lew") Winer III on saxophone. It rained a bit but there was a nice crowd anyway. That gig went better than I dared hope--great band, but folks who had not played together in that configuration before. That is always risky, but we did a lot of pretty familiar material, which helped greatly. The program was put together as a smorgasbord of jazz and blues tunes by people with a connection to St. Louis (included some Chuck Berry, Albert King, Ike and Tina Turner review, and of course, one Miles Dewey Davis).
Sunday I took a break from the usual Voodoo routine and did a fundraiser with John Farrar at the Hidden Lake Winery in Illinois. A nice little trio gig that John has asked me to do about four or five years running now. David Certain rounded out the trio this time; the man can Certain-ly play. We played in a trio using Dave once before (he was worried it wouldn't swing without a drummer, but was pleasantly surprised), and he showed us a new way to do Softly, As in a Morning Sunrise, with frequent modulations, and now that's the way we do it.
And speaking of John Farrar, Nathaniel and I have tickets for Son Volt in early November. We are looking forward to hear John's brother's band at the Pageant!
A busy week of playing last week. Wednesday I was the featured sit-in with the Park Avenue Jazz boys at Hammerstone's (always a treat). They always seem to call at least one tune I don't know that ends up going into my list of new favorites, and this was no exception--Triste by Jobim.
Saturday I was part of the Jazz and Blues Revue at the Old Webster Jazz Festival with Anita Rosamond. Actually, Anita and her manager put the group together, and it was billed as a triple leader feature--Anita, guitarist Rich McDonough, and pianist/singer Jessi Gannon. I was playing alongside Lew ("Blue Lew") Winer III on saxophone. It rained a bit but there was a nice crowd anyway. That gig went better than I dared hope--great band, but folks who had not played together in that configuration before. That is always risky, but we did a lot of pretty familiar material, which helped greatly. The program was put together as a smorgasbord of jazz and blues tunes by people with a connection to St. Louis (included some Chuck Berry, Albert King, Ike and Tina Turner review, and of course, one Miles Dewey Davis).
Sunday I took a break from the usual Voodoo routine and did a fundraiser with John Farrar at the Hidden Lake Winery in Illinois. A nice little trio gig that John has asked me to do about four or five years running now. David Certain rounded out the trio this time; the man can Certain-ly play. We played in a trio using Dave once before (he was worried it wouldn't swing without a drummer, but was pleasantly surprised), and he showed us a new way to do Softly, As in a Morning Sunrise, with frequent modulations, and now that's the way we do it.
And speaking of John Farrar, Nathaniel and I have tickets for Son Volt in early November. We are looking forward to hear John's brother's band at the Pageant!
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
Monday was a Fun-day
After a long day at work, I stopped by the Broadway Oyster Bar before heading home. The Voodoo drummer, Kirk Gryce, is the Soulard Blues Band's drummer, and Kirk and SBB hold forth every Monday night at the BOB. I don't know if it is officially a jam session but they treat it as such, at least with folks they know. I wanted to show support for Kirk--Mondays are generally a tough slog after Sundays at Hammerstones--Kirk never mentions it, but you can tell he truly likes when his buddies show up.
A lot of familiar faces were there--Jimmy Stevens, a great alto player, and as well as the Voodoo's own Raul. The Soulard Blues Band's personnel has shifted over the years, but now is pretty regularly Kirk, Art Dwyer on bass and Tom Maloney on guitar, with another rotating player. I thought Matt Murdick (keyboard) was going to be there (that's what Kirk thought Sunday), but Matt apparently couldn't make it, so they called in trumpet player Brian "Big B" Casserly.
And boy what a treat. Brian used to be a mainstay of the SBB, but has developed his own career, principally with a group called Cornet Chop Suey, as well as the Big Bamou. He is a wonderful singer and an incredible trumpet player. He has got that style down pat. And they were inside (not on the roofed over patio), which meant it was a mellower sound. Brian plays a wonderful Selmer trumpet, with a big, buttery sound. He is the best blues trumpet player in town in my book. Jim's comment to me after a particularly memorable solo: "He doesn't suck." (If you haven't, go out and hear Brian some time.)
I was reluctant to sit in, but the fellas were having none of it. I'd never played with Brian, and he'd never heard me play before. At most we'd had a few quick conversations and I'd mentioned I was a trumpet player too--and he gave me that look ("Oh, isn't that niiice")--I don't say it with any mean-spirited-ness toward Brian (I've given that look many a time too, and I can spot it a mile away--hey I would've given me the same look!). It was nice, no blasting away, but some very fun ensemble playing. I felt good in that I played a couple of tunes then made it clear I'd had fun and was skedaddling off the stage and Brian said very gently but sincerely, "Where you going, man? Stay up here until you have to go." (Didn't hurt that it was a small crowd--felt like we were all just playing for our mutual pleasure.) Trumpet players don't often "play nice" with each other, but this was a true exception. I popped off some serviceable solos (and even some good ones) and was enjoying watching Brian work his magic (and learning--I was glued to those fingerings up close and I'll be copying some of those licks come Sunday). John Wolfe stopped in with his new E flat alto trombone and it was just a gas, especially when Raul also came up.
Fun playing with friends.
A lot of familiar faces were there--Jimmy Stevens, a great alto player, and as well as the Voodoo's own Raul. The Soulard Blues Band's personnel has shifted over the years, but now is pretty regularly Kirk, Art Dwyer on bass and Tom Maloney on guitar, with another rotating player. I thought Matt Murdick (keyboard) was going to be there (that's what Kirk thought Sunday), but Matt apparently couldn't make it, so they called in trumpet player Brian "Big B" Casserly.
And boy what a treat. Brian used to be a mainstay of the SBB, but has developed his own career, principally with a group called Cornet Chop Suey, as well as the Big Bamou. He is a wonderful singer and an incredible trumpet player. He has got that style down pat. And they were inside (not on the roofed over patio), which meant it was a mellower sound. Brian plays a wonderful Selmer trumpet, with a big, buttery sound. He is the best blues trumpet player in town in my book. Jim's comment to me after a particularly memorable solo: "He doesn't suck." (If you haven't, go out and hear Brian some time.)
I was reluctant to sit in, but the fellas were having none of it. I'd never played with Brian, and he'd never heard me play before. At most we'd had a few quick conversations and I'd mentioned I was a trumpet player too--and he gave me that look ("Oh, isn't that niiice")--I don't say it with any mean-spirited-ness toward Brian (I've given that look many a time too, and I can spot it a mile away--hey I would've given me the same look!). It was nice, no blasting away, but some very fun ensemble playing. I felt good in that I played a couple of tunes then made it clear I'd had fun and was skedaddling off the stage and Brian said very gently but sincerely, "Where you going, man? Stay up here until you have to go." (Didn't hurt that it was a small crowd--felt like we were all just playing for our mutual pleasure.) Trumpet players don't often "play nice" with each other, but this was a true exception. I popped off some serviceable solos (and even some good ones) and was enjoying watching Brian work his magic (and learning--I was glued to those fingerings up close and I'll be copying some of those licks come Sunday). John Wolfe stopped in with his new E flat alto trombone and it was just a gas, especially when Raul also came up.
Fun playing with friends.
Saturday, February 28, 2009
Love the Thing You Do
I talked to my friend Matt Farmer last night as he was driving to his two-guitar-man gig last night. Matt has taken to playing about once a month with Chicago guitar ace Brian Willkie at whatever bar will let them in, I think. (Actually, usually Finley Dunne's in the Wrigleyville area of Chicago.) Brian is one hell of a guitar player, a master of all styles, including the rockabilly influenced style that is in Matt's sweet spot. Matt sings and plays guitar, too. He has studied under the careful tutelage of Jamey Aebersold, I believe.
In any event, that has become something of a monthly thing for Matt. I've been playing with Matt (through and with my sax-a-ma-phone pal Neal Connors) for 10 years plus now. Matt has been working the six-piece full-on horn section bar band for all that time. He loves it, but it is a ton of work for him, corralling all us crazy players. It allows him to do a bunch of material he truly loves to do in a way that is very satisfying. Who wouldn't want to do Sweet Caroline with a horn section and all the trimmings? (OK, some of the trimmings.) But make no mistake, it's a slog, and it happens once every two months at best, and at times Matt decides to (or has to) take a break for half a year or better. All of that is frustrating for him, I can imagine.
But I think Matt started doing these two-man things to scratch his performing itch--fun for him, way easy for him compared to a six-person group, way less pressure to bring out a crowd, way less pressure to get good comp for the band members (Matt never takes any pay himself), likes to hang and play with Willkie (or their mutual buddy, Stevie Doyle). And I think he loves it.
Just the way I love doing my Sunday blues band. Easy, no-brainer in terms of scheduling, set-up and the rest. I love playing Wayne Shorter tunes with a full-on Miles Davis style jazz quintet, but the blues band thing is so cool and easy, I just embraced it, the way it sounds like Matt is embracing his two-man thing.
And things have a way of morphing anyway--the blues band has become a little hang for the jazz musicians in town. Last weekend, we played So What with the base band, as well as a blistering Red Clay with our good friend David Certain kicking our butts on bass. And absolutely smoking versions of The Jody Grind and Blue Bossa with John Farrar and Darryl Mixon sitting in--both the best versions of those tunes I think I've been a part of in my life, anywhere, anytime. And Matt similarly I think has quite a crowd of friends, sit-ins coming by his two-man thing. Both things are a "scene"--hence, the title of the blog: like Ray Sasaki's exhortation years ago--when you've got a chance to create a scene, do it.
My point is, it seems you can spend years picking at something or other, trying to make it work, which is a good, worthwhile and necessary thing. But then, seemingly out of nowhere, but related to that effort, there's another little thing that comes up, that you may ignore for a while, but it keeps presenting itself, insisting on itself, "Try ME!!" And you do, and that little thing turns out to be just the thing.
And you love it.
In any event, that has become something of a monthly thing for Matt. I've been playing with Matt (through and with my sax-a-ma-phone pal Neal Connors) for 10 years plus now. Matt has been working the six-piece full-on horn section bar band for all that time. He loves it, but it is a ton of work for him, corralling all us crazy players. It allows him to do a bunch of material he truly loves to do in a way that is very satisfying. Who wouldn't want to do Sweet Caroline with a horn section and all the trimmings? (OK, some of the trimmings.) But make no mistake, it's a slog, and it happens once every two months at best, and at times Matt decides to (or has to) take a break for half a year or better. All of that is frustrating for him, I can imagine.
But I think Matt started doing these two-man things to scratch his performing itch--fun for him, way easy for him compared to a six-person group, way less pressure to bring out a crowd, way less pressure to get good comp for the band members (Matt never takes any pay himself), likes to hang and play with Willkie (or their mutual buddy, Stevie Doyle). And I think he loves it.
Just the way I love doing my Sunday blues band. Easy, no-brainer in terms of scheduling, set-up and the rest. I love playing Wayne Shorter tunes with a full-on Miles Davis style jazz quintet, but the blues band thing is so cool and easy, I just embraced it, the way it sounds like Matt is embracing his two-man thing.
And things have a way of morphing anyway--the blues band has become a little hang for the jazz musicians in town. Last weekend, we played So What with the base band, as well as a blistering Red Clay with our good friend David Certain kicking our butts on bass. And absolutely smoking versions of The Jody Grind and Blue Bossa with John Farrar and Darryl Mixon sitting in--both the best versions of those tunes I think I've been a part of in my life, anywhere, anytime. And Matt similarly I think has quite a crowd of friends, sit-ins coming by his two-man thing. Both things are a "scene"--hence, the title of the blog: like Ray Sasaki's exhortation years ago--when you've got a chance to create a scene, do it.
My point is, it seems you can spend years picking at something or other, trying to make it work, which is a good, worthwhile and necessary thing. But then, seemingly out of nowhere, but related to that effort, there's another little thing that comes up, that you may ignore for a while, but it keeps presenting itself, insisting on itself, "Try ME!!" And you do, and that little thing turns out to be just the thing.
And you love it.
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
Saturday Results
The Voodoo Blues Band unfortunately pulled in the silver medal at last Saturday's Blues Challenge in Springfield. The winning band was from Springfield, and our fellas who stayed to hear them were complimentary but thought that we compared favorably. In any event, we played pretty well and had a chance to strut our stuff, including a lot of originals by Raul, our fearless leader.
Well, maybe we'll end up at the Memphis finals one of these times!
We heard overheard Biden and Obama while in Springfield, but were not able to really attend the event--even though it was close by, there was a completely different entry (complete with top flight security) that made it near impossible to do both things. There were numerous sharpshooters on the roof--I felt equal parts chilled by their apparent necessity and good that they were there and taking it seriously.
Well, maybe we'll end up at the Memphis finals one of these times!
We heard overheard Biden and Obama while in Springfield, but were not able to really attend the event--even though it was close by, there was a completely different entry (complete with top flight security) that made it near impossible to do both things. There were numerous sharpshooters on the roof--I felt equal parts chilled by their apparent necessity and good that they were there and taking it seriously.
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
Goings On
A big weekend coming up:
First, a show on Friday night in Chicago with the Blue State Cowboys (see sidebar link for Matty Farmer's great BSC blog). We are playing at McKellin's Tavern in Rogers Park, as a warm-up for a Cleveland wedding gig in early September (strange, but true).
Saturday, an early start to get to Springfield for the Voodoo Blues Band, who will be competing in the Illinois Central Blues Club Blues Challenge. 25 minutes to wow the judges for a shot at going to the 25th International Blues Challenge in February 2009 in Memphis! We hit the stage at 12:30, hoping for blues history (or at least a fun chapter in our personal lives) to be written. Check it out:
http://www.icbluesclub.org/
Finally, back to St. Louis for a one-song performance of a cover of Cake's cover of "I Will Survive" with my buddy Chris Lawhorn's band, Rule 3, opening for More Cowbell at a charity benefit for Annie's Hope at the Old Rock House in St. Louis (performance at around the 7:45 to 7:50 mark on Saturday night).
http://www.oldrockhousestl.com/events.aspx
Then, plain old jam session at Hammerstone's, 4-8, in Soulard, per the usual (see Voodoo Blues Band link at sidebar).
Did I mention we've started hitting Benton Park Studios for CD #2? Mostly originals. Sounding good so far....
First, a show on Friday night in Chicago with the Blue State Cowboys (see sidebar link for Matty Farmer's great BSC blog). We are playing at McKellin's Tavern in Rogers Park, as a warm-up for a Cleveland wedding gig in early September (strange, but true).
Saturday, an early start to get to Springfield for the Voodoo Blues Band, who will be competing in the Illinois Central Blues Club Blues Challenge. 25 minutes to wow the judges for a shot at going to the 25th International Blues Challenge in February 2009 in Memphis! We hit the stage at 12:30, hoping for blues history (or at least a fun chapter in our personal lives) to be written. Check it out:
http://www.icbluesclub.org/
Finally, back to St. Louis for a one-song performance of a cover of Cake's cover of "I Will Survive" with my buddy Chris Lawhorn's band, Rule 3, opening for More Cowbell at a charity benefit for Annie's Hope at the Old Rock House in St. Louis (performance at around the 7:45 to 7:50 mark on Saturday night).
http://www.oldrockhousestl.com/events.aspx
Then, plain old jam session at Hammerstone's, 4-8, in Soulard, per the usual (see Voodoo Blues Band link at sidebar).
Did I mention we've started hitting Benton Park Studios for CD #2? Mostly originals. Sounding good so far....
Saturday, June 28, 2008
Hey, baby....
How does one measure a life? How much money did you make? How many things did you accumulate? What did you accomplish at work?
Of course not. We all have and know our own measures which are of a much more personal nature, that carry far more value for each of us. But let me submit one variant for your consideration and amusement: How many times, and by how many people, and in what contexts, were you called "baby"? This seems as good as any to me. And the more the better, from my perspective.
This is a wonderful word, so versatile. Of course it can be innocent, or sweet, or sexy, or loving in the most innocent way (as between and a parent and a child), and everything up to and including much more sultry, adult versions. I love them all.
I've been thinking about this concept a lot lately, and I'll share with you why. The ending line is going to be my new mantra in life.
The Voodoo Blues Band sessions on Sundays at Hammerstone's are, among other things, great jam sessions, when some of the top St. Louis blues performers come by to say hello, share a drink, share a story, have a laugh, and, of course, lay down the blues. Our sit-ins are much more than people who just show up; they become and remain our dear friends.
One such friend who comes by often is both a wonderful drummer and a singer. An older gent who has been on the blues scene for years and years. Played with everybody. He doesn't just play the blues, he lives it, breathes it, drinks it in--it simply oozes out of the pores of his skin. A few weeks ago, he showed up after what for him had been a relatively extended absence. We were all so so glad to see him again, play with him again, just hear him again. As he was leaving the stage from sitting in, I gave a him a big pat on the back, smiled and beamed, "Morris, you sounded great!!"
He stared back at me with an expression I don't quite know how to describe in words (sort of like "huh?") and after a small beat, gave me a response I don't think I'll ever forget as long as I live:
"Baby, I always sound great."
And without more he moved on to his cheeseburger and listened to the rest of the set.
Morris, yes you do. My new mantra. Feel free to share your baby stories with us.
Of course not. We all have and know our own measures which are of a much more personal nature, that carry far more value for each of us. But let me submit one variant for your consideration and amusement: How many times, and by how many people, and in what contexts, were you called "baby"? This seems as good as any to me. And the more the better, from my perspective.
This is a wonderful word, so versatile. Of course it can be innocent, or sweet, or sexy, or loving in the most innocent way (as between and a parent and a child), and everything up to and including much more sultry, adult versions. I love them all.
I've been thinking about this concept a lot lately, and I'll share with you why. The ending line is going to be my new mantra in life.
The Voodoo Blues Band sessions on Sundays at Hammerstone's are, among other things, great jam sessions, when some of the top St. Louis blues performers come by to say hello, share a drink, share a story, have a laugh, and, of course, lay down the blues. Our sit-ins are much more than people who just show up; they become and remain our dear friends.
One such friend who comes by often is both a wonderful drummer and a singer. An older gent who has been on the blues scene for years and years. Played with everybody. He doesn't just play the blues, he lives it, breathes it, drinks it in--it simply oozes out of the pores of his skin. A few weeks ago, he showed up after what for him had been a relatively extended absence. We were all so so glad to see him again, play with him again, just hear him again. As he was leaving the stage from sitting in, I gave a him a big pat on the back, smiled and beamed, "Morris, you sounded great!!"
He stared back at me with an expression I don't quite know how to describe in words (sort of like "huh?") and after a small beat, gave me a response I don't think I'll ever forget as long as I live:
"Baby, I always sound great."
And without more he moved on to his cheeseburger and listened to the rest of the set.
Morris, yes you do. My new mantra. Feel free to share your baby stories with us.
Sunday, June 1, 2008
Taylorville BBQ, Blues and Cruise Fest
Thanks to the great folks at Taylorville, Illinois for having the Voodoo Blues Band open their first ever BBQ, Blues and Cruise festival. We played the early afternoon, and the festival went on despite severe weather the night before which almost trashed the county fairgrounds where the event was held. They had an amazing turnout, and everyone seemed genuinely glad we were there. Also thanks to STLBlues.net for booking us on the gig. Maybe this will be an annual event for us.
Here are a couple of web pieces on the event, for those who just can't get enough. Nice words about the band (albeit before anyone up there ever heard us):
http://www.downtowntaylorville.com/bbq/index.htm
http://www.illinoistimes.com/gyrobase/Content?oid=oid%3A7626
Here are a couple of web pieces on the event, for those who just can't get enough. Nice words about the band (albeit before anyone up there ever heard us):
http://www.downtowntaylorville.com/bbq/index.htm
http://www.illinoistimes.com/gyrobase/Content?oid=oid%3A7626
Monday, May 19, 2008
BB's
The Voodoo Blues Band packed up at 8:00 p.m. sharp last night to head over to BB's Jazz, Blues & Soups for a scheduled 8:40 p.m. slot at a cancer benefit for the Siteman Cancer Center hosted by STLBlues.net. We needn't have hurried--they were running horribly behind (what else when dealing with five blues bands?). We got a chance to see and hear many of our good friends (including the Soulard Blues Band, our "warm-up" act, so to speak--well, at least we hit the stage after them).It's always a hoot to hit the stage at BB's, consistently rated the best blues club in St. Louis, especially following the Soulard Blues Band, consistently rated the #1 area blues band (even if they were only the #2 band there that night--I mean, seriously, ya gotta have a horn section to really kick it!). We finished off the night helping out our good friend (and great blues diva) Erma Whiteside, who blew the roof off the place. [Steve and Barb, your album cover shot was used on a great poster promoting the event--that shot is everywhere!: http://www.stlblues.net/concert08.htm]
Next up--we are playing at a new venue in St. Louis, the Gramophone, on Wednesday night at nine. Also, don't forget to check out Blind Willie's daughter Cara, who will be doing a gig at the Lucas School House in Soulard on Thursday night, including Matthew Von Doran on guitar and Dave (Red Clay) Certain on bass. Dave is Certain-ly one of our favorite bass sit-ins on the Sunday jam.
At the end of the month the Voodoo Band will hit the road and be at the Taylorville Blues festival on May 30. Thanks to our friend Dave Beardsley at www.stlblues.net for getting us out there. Dave is also the webmaster for the Voodoo Band's website (see sidebar for a link).
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
Blog Mania
Faithful readers,
I want to encourage you to visit (and mark as a favorite) Matt Farmer's blog on the Blue State Cowboys: http://www.bluestatecowboys.blogspot.com/. The Blue State Cowboys is Matt's eclectic, semi-regular cover band. I've been gigging with Matt and the BSC for nearly 10 years now, since August/September 1998. We've had some very interesting gigs (Japan, Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in Cleveland, not to mention several taverns within easy walking distance of Matt's house).
I came to the band (then the Redstreaks) through my saxophone playing buddy, Neal Connors, who went to high school in Chicago with Matt. Neal and I had met in the jazz program at the University of Illinois in the early/mid-80s, then reconnected later in life. He asked in '98 if I wanted to go up a play a gig with him in a cover band in Chicago (he really thought I might say no). On the drive up I learned the songs (let's say I listened to a tape of the songs on the way) and also learned that the band was doing a demo recording that day to send to get a gig on the military base in Iwakuni, Japan. When we walked into the studio and Neal introduced me to Matt and the fellas (basically as my buddy Rob, he plays the trumpet), it was an interesting scene. Mildly pleasant hellos (not unfriendly mind you, simply not effusive), mostly silence (all warm-up ceased) and a series of whispered conversations between Neal and Matt and furtive glances my way from Matt. I asked Neal if he had told anyone he was bringing me, and he said "not so much". When they heard I could play a little, there was a palpable look of relief from the band. By the end of the night (we had a gig at Gamekeepers, a neighborhood bar, later than evening), I was a full-fledged member of the band. The rest has been history.
One of our most memorable gigs was at a tiny tiny bar in Hiroshima (the Jacara club), where Candy Dulfer had once played (her posters were up everywhere). They opened the bar up for us (I think it was a Sunday), and had other bands in. We were treated like American rock stars and shown a great deal of love and respect. We looked smugly to ourselves when an all-Japanese blues band on the bill got up to play, then had those grins wiped off our faces when they launched into their set. A few bands later (including an incredible acoustic set by a singer and two percussionists doing American pop tunes) John Tully and Mike "Waldo" Walsh whispered to me, "We're the worst band here tonight." And they were right.
Thanks for the memories, Matt and Neal.
I want to encourage you to visit (and mark as a favorite) Matt Farmer's blog on the Blue State Cowboys: http://www.bluestatecowboys.blogspot.com/. The Blue State Cowboys is Matt's eclectic, semi-regular cover band. I've been gigging with Matt and the BSC for nearly 10 years now, since August/September 1998. We've had some very interesting gigs (Japan, Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in Cleveland, not to mention several taverns within easy walking distance of Matt's house).
I came to the band (then the Redstreaks) through my saxophone playing buddy, Neal Connors, who went to high school in Chicago with Matt. Neal and I had met in the jazz program at the University of Illinois in the early/mid-80s, then reconnected later in life. He asked in '98 if I wanted to go up a play a gig with him in a cover band in Chicago (he really thought I might say no). On the drive up I learned the songs (let's say I listened to a tape of the songs on the way) and also learned that the band was doing a demo recording that day to send to get a gig on the military base in Iwakuni, Japan. When we walked into the studio and Neal introduced me to Matt and the fellas (basically as my buddy Rob, he plays the trumpet), it was an interesting scene. Mildly pleasant hellos (not unfriendly mind you, simply not effusive), mostly silence (all warm-up ceased) and a series of whispered conversations between Neal and Matt and furtive glances my way from Matt. I asked Neal if he had told anyone he was bringing me, and he said "not so much". When they heard I could play a little, there was a palpable look of relief from the band. By the end of the night (we had a gig at Gamekeepers, a neighborhood bar, later than evening), I was a full-fledged member of the band. The rest has been history.
One of our most memorable gigs was at a tiny tiny bar in Hiroshima (the Jacara club), where Candy Dulfer had once played (her posters were up everywhere). They opened the bar up for us (I think it was a Sunday), and had other bands in. We were treated like American rock stars and shown a great deal of love and respect. We looked smugly to ourselves when an all-Japanese blues band on the bill got up to play, then had those grins wiped off our faces when they launched into their set. A few bands later (including an incredible acoustic set by a singer and two percussionists doing American pop tunes) John Tully and Mike "Waldo" Walsh whispered to me, "We're the worst band here tonight." And they were right.
Thanks for the memories, Matt and Neal.
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
Upcoming Gig
On Sunday, December 9, Blind Willie and I will leave our posts early at the weekly Voodoo session and join Skeet Rogers and the Inner City Blues Band to open for legendary bluesman Bobby "Blue" Bland. We've done this a couple of times before (once to open for Mr. Bland, another time to open for Jerry "The Iceman" Butler). The crowds have been enthusiastic, and really know the music. They seem to be hanging on every note and react to every turn of phrase, and these gigs have been a blast. If you want to read more about Bobby Bland, there is a nice, relatively short article on Salon: http://archive.salon.com/people/bc/2000/03/14/bland/index.html. If you want to take it to the next level, check out Peter Guralnick's book, Lost Highway: Journeys & Arrivals of American Musicians, which features a chapter on Bobby Bland.
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