The Low Anthem...

Well, here we go with another rash of concerts for fall. I guess the word rash seems as though it's an uncomfortable thing but believe me, nothing is further from the truth. Music is my life and being able to see live music performed by favorite people is a kiss to the heart.

The Low Anthem, consisting of multi-instrumentalists Ben Miller, Jeff Prystowsky, Jocie Adams and sometimes Mat Davidson have been a favorite of mine ever since discovering them on cd Baby's website a few years ago. I bought the first album and quickly snapped up the others as they were released. With any album, there are favorite songs but with this group, I find it hard to actually choose. People have asked me and I can usually only narrow it down to five or six after a lot of hemming and hawing.

They are a unique and extremely talented trio [sometimes quartet] who between them all play 34 instruments. Almost all vintage or antique. It has been said that they have in their possession, more antique instruments than the museum in Providence Rhode Island where they hail from.
And each of them is able to play almost all of the 34! I got to see this first hand last Wednesday night, Sept 14 when we attended their concert at the World Cafe LIVE in Philly.

The evening opened with guest artist William Elliot Whitmore, a singer/songwriter I'd never heard of before. But he didn't disappoint and was the perfect choice to open for a band like The Low Anthem. William played banjo, guitar and bass drum. Yes, you read that right - bass drum! It had a wonderful effect with what he did and we enjoyed him a lot!



Then with virtually no real break at all, Low Anthem entered the stage. They began their program by announcing they would do the songs in chronological order which got a laugh from the audience but really ended up working well for those recording their favorite songs.



I could fill this post with video I took of the evening but I think it would be better if you went to see them yourself if they come to your corner of the world. Philly was the first concert of the tour and they will work themselves cross country to California before going on hiatus to work on new things at home in Rhode Island. You will not be disappointed and since this tour will be their last, you won't get another chance if you pass on this one.

To Ben, Jeff, Jocie & Mat, plus past member Dan Lefkowitz, - thank you for three incredible albums that filled so many of my days, plus an evening I will never forget.

Eric Clapton in the 'Burgh...

A lifelong dream of mine came true last Thursday night, February 25th when we battled to stay ahead of one of the worst blizzards of the year and get from Philly to Pittsburgh ahead of the storm. The goal was to see my guitar idol Eric Clapton who was going to be appearing at the dear old Igloo (Mellon Arena). Having missed the chance to see him a number of times already, I was very nervous it would happen again as they talked of record breaking snowfall the day before the concert.

Could we make the 300 plus mile trip before the storm hit? Well, we were about to find out because we were not going to be deprived of another opportunity to see him.
And see the Igloo for the last time too, because that wonderful old arena, the oldest in the NHL, was slated to also be torn down within the month.

So we left the Mustang in our garage, knowing better than to take it on a snowy trip and sliding off the road. Instead we hopped into my 15 year old Escort GT knowing that if we had any chance at all of making it to Pittsburgh, my Pokey was going to be the one to get us there.


~Pokey resting on Laurel Highlands

We arrived in the Burgh and had time to spare...the weather still holding strong in that fair city.

After getting settled and having something to eat it was off to the Igloo like we had done so many times while living there and going to so many Penguins games. It was so bittersweet being back, knowing I was going to see Eric for the first time in my life - and seeing the Igloo for my last time.

Roger Daltrey was appearing with Eric and opened the show with some of his older Who stuff but much of his stuff was new to the audience. He did many covers of other artists and endeared himself immediately with the crowd. Opening his portion with I Can See For Miles and The Real Me, he also did a Taj Mahal cover of Freedom Ride. Levon Helm's song, Gimme A Stone was perhaps the favorite of the Daltrey set -

Finally, the moment everyone had come for. Eric strolled out on stage without any fanfare whatsoever, looking like a college professor dressed for a weekend visit to the market. He wore jeans, a plain blue button-down shirt and sneakers, his hair long, his manner quiet and unassuming.

When he played the opening chords of "Goin' Down Slow" he was suddenly transformed — as was I and the rest of the audience — through his brief 15-song, 90-minute set. The brevity of the show didn't matter. Like other singular artists — think Pavarotti, Baryshnikov or DeNiro — Clapton's talent defies description, and astounds even as it takes place before one's eyes. He seems almost lackadaisical in his approach to his craft, but the genius that emerges as his hands fly up and down the length of his guitar is astounding.

Four songs into the evening Clapton played "Old Love," an atmospheric, sweetly melancholic tune that featured one of his indescribable guitar solos. You start to think nothing would top this ... until the next song, a rousing version of "I Shot the Sheriff" which featured yet another breathtaking guitar solo. So went the entire evening. Even the obligatory acoustic run of songs, which featured "Driftin' Blues," "Nobody Knows When You're Down and Out," "Running on Faith" and "I've Got a Rock 'n' Roll Heart," transcended the usual limitations of such forays.

Instead of seeming indulgent, Clapton transformed the whole arena into an intimate club. The lighting - the general feeling given off - his quiet rapport with his listeners, made everyone feel that he was playing for them...only them. Everyone had "their" Clapton song and he accommodated most by giving them that. How do you top that?

Well, we are talking Eric Clapton here right? It's easy. He trotted out "Badge" from his tenure with Cream, and even though a keyboardist added some odd-sounding accompaniment (much to Clapton's amusement) the grandness of this magisterial song shone through. With another stunning solo unleashed, of course.

Clapton followed with sparkling versions of "Little Queen of Spades," "Before You Accuse Me," "Wonderful Tonight" and "Cocaine," the audience response increasing with each selection. And that was it! Suddenly it was over, save for a truncated, almost carnival-like version of "Crossroads" that ended the evening much, much too soon.

I wish I could have captured more video of this concert but to be honest, I was so wrapped up in what I was experiencing, I simply forgot to turn the Flip on when I maybe could have. However, I did get a few and will leave you with one....



So I had finally achieved the thing I've waited my entire life for. And now I want to do it again!

Moonalice

Once upon a time in America, there were musicians who played the music they wanted to play. They didn’t follow musical fads, they created them. They had lots and lots of fun with that and we had lots of fun listening. They were based in California - more specifically San Francisco, but within a very short space of time, they were embraced by a continent of music lovers. Bands like Hot Tuna and Jefferson Airplane, evolving to Jefferson Starship, and of course the Eagles and Poco, Buffalo Springfield and just to name a very few.

Some of these bands have largely stayed together – others have disbanded and gone solo or started up new ventures. So it is with Moonalice.

Moonalice is a band/tribe (sic) comprised of musicians Jack Casady of Hot Tuna, Jesus H Moonalice, the incredible Barry Sless (David Nelson Band, Phil Lesh & Friends) on bass, guitar and pedal steel, Sir Sinjin Moonalice (British born Pete Sears, also from Hot Tuna, Rod Stewart Band, Jefferson Starship et al.) on bass and keys, Chubby Wombat Moonalice (Roger McNamee) on guitar, bass, Blue Moonalice, Ann McNamee (Flying Other Brothers, Ann Atomic) on angelic vocals and percussion, and finally, Barry Sless and Dawnman Moonalice, Jimmy Sanchez (Boz Scaggs, Bonnie Raitt) on drums.

Last and certainly not least is G.E. Smith. Leader of the Saturday Night Live Band for about ten years, he also toured with Hall & Oates for a number of years, plus played with Dylan, Jagger, and Bowie.

As the story goes, Moonalice is a Native American tribe that dates back to the beginning of time. In later times, the tribe evolved into two major clans, one agricultural, the other nomadic. The nomadic Moonalice clans were known as bands. They wandered the continent, surviving on their wits and music. Their specialty was low tones. From time to time, the Moonalice hippies and bands would gather in pow wows that were known as gigs. More Woodstock than livestock, Moonalice gigs were quintessentially American, combining the vibes of New York, San Francisco and all points in between. Moonalice legend speaks of a mysterious 7th player – a bass player, naturally – who possessed prodigious talent. It is said by those who say such things, that the day will come when all members of the tribe will play bass together. And on that day the notion of low will be taken to new depths. Or possibly the notion of depth taken to new lows. As with all things, it’s really a matter of perspective.

The band started out with mirth but on the right foot too, when they enlisted legendary producer T Bone Burnett to help transform the highly regarded Moonalice live sound into a recorded project. Can this album really go bad? Of course not.

Pseudonyms aside, this album will charm you. Moonalice’s debut harkens back to a simpler time – a time when the world too, was somewhat simpler. Every problem could be solved by making love, not war and every coming together of people was the simple sharing of anything you had to share. Love, hemp, opinion, and a hatred of ‘the establishment’.

For those of us who grew up on California folk rock with a psychedelic twist, this album is a breath of fresh air – what we know and love, albeit maybe not as soft as in those days of caftans and granny prints. I do think they’ll pick up a few new followers with this album though. How can they not?

I have to say I love this album. Hearing G. E. Smith master the Telecaster once again in the only way he can, was worth the cost of the album right there. But there are bonuses too - Jack Casady's legendary full driving tone and innovative melodic bass work was there as well, the stormy melodic lines & sweeping chord work that earned him a place in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. But aside from musical qualities they bring you great tunes as well. From the Mark Knofler-esque sounding’ "Kick It Open" to the haunting "Blink Of An Eye" this will definitely get many hours of play at our house. I highly recommend everyone give this a listen - once you have it certainly won't be your last.

Living With Kitty - Times Three

Oh yeah! Times this by three & you have my mornings! I suspect it even might include a bat, which might explain the pounding headaches some mornings.

This is a wonderful little piece of work entitled 'Wake Up Cat' and was done by the English animator Simon Tofield. Mr. Tofield works for an animation company called Tandem Films. This film won Best Comedy at the British Animation Awards. I just fell in love with it, hitting so close to home as it does.

Also the evening ritual...or afternoon, or morning or mid morning or...well I think you have the picture - the program you want to see comes at a time that just isn't appropriate for kitty.



And then of course there's the "let me in situation", which in Simon's video, the kitty actually does cross the threshold and come in. At our house, that's rarely the case. At out house they pat and paw, stretch and rub against the glass, mewing plaintively until someone takes pity and puts down whatever they're doing to goes to let them in. At which time kitty looks at us as if we're totally daft then turns and walks in the other direction. I think they are programmed to do these things. .




We used to have a kitty by the name of Dobie. Dobie wasn't allowed 'outside' outside, but was allowed in our screened-in porch. And 95% of the time, this was the best of both worlds for him...a place to enjoy the breeze and smell the smells, occasionally chasing an insect who was unfortunate enough to think the screened-in porch was a great safe place to take up residence. Dobie lived for those moments and was quite happy in his inside outdoors - until some human had to go to the outside 'outside' and mow the lawn or rake the leaves. This was unacceptable behavior! Leaving him behind while they walked in the grass? Gack, no!




















He needed to work out some deal here so he was included in the excursion. First was the caterwaul. Well, that didn't work! All the human did was move further away from the screen so he wasn't heard! There needed to be some way of attracting attention. Running up and down the screen? Well that worked when we were tiny but resulted only in getting hollered at as he got larger...something about 'don't rip the screen, bad boy!' or something like that.




Okay, so tears in the screen weren't acceptable - humans have so many rules - 95% of them inane. So how about a pluck? He would pick-pick on the screen to get our attention and if that didn't work he would stand on his head. A fella's gotta do what a fella's gotta do.

I sure miss you, Dobie. You were truly one of a kind. I think of all those times I told you to be a good boy and get down off that screen and I would suck it all back right now for just one hour more with you. RIP my beauty. Having just four short years to share with you was not nearly enough time. I hope there are plastic springs in heaven and angels who know how to play 'fetchies'.

Mr. Crayola

Don Marco is an incredible artist who didn't let the little things like proper medium stop him from creating some beautiful visions for us to enjoy. How come my crayons never did this, hmmm?

Don Marco - Mr. Crayola-part 1

and...

Don Marco - Mr.Crayola - part2

I didn't inherit my uncles gift of taking 8 wax crayons either, like Don Marco, and creating wonderful images that belie their origins. C'est la vie. But who knows? Maybe someday I will select just the right colors and I too, will appear in someones blog with my masterpiece.

Hey, it could happen!

What's left to be said about John Prine...

...that hasn't already been said a thousand times? The man is a lyrical genius admired over his long career by peers and audiences alike. John writes the songs we can all relate to. The songs about favorite cars, favorite dogs, and favorite times. And the bad times...a song writer can't ignore the bad times, but John writes those from a different, nay, a better perspective. Not so much in protest as in a nostalgic learning path. A more palatable reminiscence.



Returning home a star...



...favorites...



And then Bonnie & John doing one of my personal favorites.



I would have killed to be at this concert - Bonnie, Bryan, Bruce, and Jackson all doing John! OMG!



Still, I'm hoping to see John doing John in the next few months. A trip to my old stomping grounds - Pittsburgh and a close to the stage seat in the Mellon Arena. Can't ask for more than that.

I'll let y'all know how good it was...

The Fairy nests

~click on all images to enlarge~

I love to find the little treasures of life - the things my grandfather would always explain to me and no-one else knew about. The tiny Maple whirligigs, the propellers that the Nature spirits would use to come gently to the ground. I tried as a child to catch a glimpse of the spirits but I never could...oh, I saw the propellers for sure, but never was good enough to see the spirits.

Though never seen, I always felt their presence y'know, and I think that was what my grandfather was trying to teach me. The awareness of nature. The awareness of all things of nature, real or imagined.

But the fairy nests, well, I saw them everywhere as a kid and I did sometimes think I saw the their little faces hiding down under the canopies and laughing at my inability to catch them. I would gently blow on them - not enough to harm anything or tear the fiber of them, but just to make them dance and jiggle the millions of glistening droplets.

Very early today as I looked out at our misty morning, I was delighted to discover everything draped with fairy nests! All along our hedges they dwelt, outlined with dew and sparking in the soft morning light. A photo op if there ever was one! Something I was never able to do as a kid, and as hard as I tried to draw them, I could never capture their ethereal form or do it justice.

So I have them now - proof that they exist and to capture the beauty of them for ever.














A community of Fae - the preparedness of winter settling in. Berries in abundance and the protection of boughs from the cold snows that will be here soon enough. The quiet hush of autumn...














They choose their different places, much as we do - some picking the burnished red of the fiery bush while others preferring the smaller blades of grass. My grandfather would be so proud that I had remembered his tales of how they decided to live where they did, but for now I will leave you with just these images.














I must remember to watch closely to see if I will be treated to a sighting of the inhabitants. I have my camera ready...you just never really know.