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Southwest
Regional Report
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Edited by Chris Gardner
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Return of the Superfreek Rather than explode into another effusive word collage of love or steer myself into another blow by blow account of the greatness and grandeur of Keller Williams or resubmit my application on his behalf for sainthood or engage in any other manner of teeny-bopperish, laudatory behaviors that the Freek seems to inspire in grown folk, I will merely refer you to my starstruck fanboy piece from last spring and say that my opinions, though tempered by time, remain essentially the same, minus the drool and spittle. Yep, The Freek is up to his old tricks again. His jaunt through Smog City fell on a particularly rainy spring day, and his show appropriately opened with a Rain Trilogy, Sunny Rain>Thirsty In the Rain>Looks Like Rain, the last of which incited a group swoon. Between the show's sodden start and it's sweaty end, Keller tested and tweaked the toys in his bag of tricks. The loop is still the order of the day, and the effect increases in as he hones his craft. The 8 track loop that he created during "Breathe" was rich, thoughtful, and well-planned, so well so in fact that he constructed the dense underbelly in no more than 12 measures. Last year, Keller would set a loop and allow it to settle before pasting another into the mix. The effect verged on trance as each layer built, and it gave the crowd a chance to hoot and holler along as he constructed each groove. This year, he formed and shaped the sounds into wrinkles or folds, into alternating ridges and grooves as quickly as possible. He was all work and no play, creating the groove for the groove's sake rather than the crowd's sake. Where the line was fuzzy last year, he now utilizes the loop simply as a means to an end rather than as a gimmick Sprinkle atop all this Lou's increasing role as back up vocalist, the pointing from corner to corner as the sound ping pongs from speaker to speaker, the electric guitar, the occasional steel drum, and the occasional piano, and you find a Freek in persistent evolution. Keller claims the loop is a phase. If so, the next leap in the evolution should be all the more fascinating to watch.
moe. Hits the Fillmore As I entered The Fillmore in downtown Denver I felt a rush of warm air swallow my freezing cold face. It felt so good to be wrapped in that warmth after a day of sitting outside my friend's house in Boulder drinking green beer and rapping about favorite shows in the past month. While my friend are all big fans of the scene, I could convince not a one of them to make the journey down to Denver that night for moe.'s tour ending show. Finally I got a girl named Kristen I met at the house to head down "Denver-way" with me. The inside of The Fillmore was already jumping when we got in around 7:30 pm. Yonder Mountain String Band was on stage and the local favorites were ripping up the stage. I swear Jeff Austin plays the meanest mandolin this side of the Mississippi (although I just last month stated that Drew of Leftover Salmon should hold that title) as was displayed in their set ending romp through "Whipping Post". If you haven't had the opportunity to see these Nederland, CO boys yet, make it a priority. There is no one out there right now playing bluegrass with this much youthful energy and respect for traditional sound. After a lengthy set change the boys from moe. rambled out onto the stage and after a few remarks by Rob about the crowd not being drunk enough for St. Patrick's Day, the band launched into "Plane Crash". I have not seen moe. in a few years (in fact the last time I saw them, Jim had not yet rejoined the crew) and thus I was blown away from the opening note on by how tight and insanely good these guys had become. "Plane Crash" is a great song to start a show with and it really got the crowd going. Kristen had never seen them before and as "Plane Crash" came to screeching halt she yelled to me, "Holy Shit!" "Can't Seem To Find, It", and "New York City" followed as each song had its moments, but none of them could compare to what was to come next. The band ended the set with a "Jazzwank > Buster > Roll > Irish Jig". "Buster" has never been one of my favorite moe. tunes but with it wrapped inside this momentum carrying jam, I loved it. The lead-in to the familiar first notes was spectacular, and during that time I finally took notice at how great a light show these guys put on. Obviously, the "Irish Jig" was perfectly appropriate for the day. The set ended and I led the rush to bar along with about a thousand other people who for one day claimed love for the Emerald Isle. During the set break Kristen and I downed a couple of Guinesses and headed to the back of the venue for a little more room to dance. Since this was the last show of the tour I figured that moe. would tear the roof off The Fillmore during the second set, and I was not wrong. St. Augustine opened the second set with an amazing lead-in that got me really going. I absolutely love that song and after the set break it really got the blood going again. My favorite moment of the night followed as Jeff Austin of YMSB joined the boys on stage with his mandolin for a rousing rendition of "Time Again". I coined the song a fine example of "moegrass". This was followed by "Mexico", another a song I was hearing live for the first time and man, some songs just can't be heard on disc after hearing them live. What a great tune with both Al and Chuck showing their skills. The second set wrapped up with an incredible jam, "Kyle > Brent Black > Bring It Back Home" The wall of noise that kept smacking me in the face as I spun around the back of the venue in sheer ecstasy was so cool. Kristen and I just kept smiling at each other as Rob pounded out a fantastic bass line amidst the pounding of Jim and Vinnie's drums. The boys exited to a tremendous applause as Colorado thanked these wandering minstrels from the east coast for the amazing evening of music they shared with us. For an encore moe. returned to play a spicy Voodoo Lady and I was so disappointed when they said that they had to stop playing at the end of the song (thank you city of Denver noise ordinances). Kristen and I gave each other hugs and walked back out into the cold Colorado air with huge smiles on our faces. I had such a tremendous time and can't wait for moe. to come back around this way.
In Further Praise of Keller Williams For the many years that I have been engulfed in the music world, I have developed my own senses of what I like, what I feel is pure, what's authentic. Being a guitarist, I've found a multitude of musicians which have inspired me to achieve more, to delve into the great tempting abyss that is music. In light of this need to continually get deeper and deeper into what sounds move me and why and to create a tapestry of music that is my own while staying true to my influences, I must say I have found my master. Not one to worship or to blindly praise, but one who embodies what I love about music and life......spontaneity, humbleness, grace, love, honesty, and a hopeful sense that what you create can be greater than yourself, and a true reflection of what you are. On Friday night, after experiencing what was quite honestly the most inspiring show of my life, I feel closer to the things I love and the possibilities that lie within and around us all. Keller weaves a tapestry that extends out from himself to such a point that you can't simply revel in his skill and emotion, but the very thing that is music. That is pure.
Bluegrass Stew - The
Fourteenth AnnualOld Settler's Music Festival Bluegrass is just a touchstone out here in the Bluebonnet filled hills of Texas west of Austin. Bluegrass is first base. Bluegrass is Playdoh. Bluegrass is the broth, and the participants in this year's 14th Annual event threw in all manner of complements. After completing the first stage of the Cannonball Run on the way up from Houston, we threw up tents, darted through the gates, and blindly dashed across the tracks, where the six-engine train of Blueground Undergrass promptly flattened us like pennies on the rail. The wide open, chugging and churning "Orange Blossom Special" stated the weekend's most cogent and convincing argument in favor of drums and electric bass in a bluegrass outfit. The drums, always a sore spot for traditionalists and even rule benders like David Grisman, push this Special down the line with exhilarating and dangerous velocity, as the frantic and flying elbows of the breathless crowd would attest. Reverend Jeff Mosier's electrified outfit never equaled their Friday night freight train feat for pure, adrenaline-pumping, fevered dizziness, but no one else did either. BGUG's loose stew is rich in jazzy flavor and sprinkled with a rock and roll spirit which, when they hit as they did with their "Bill Monroe in a blender" encore, rings honest and true, but the same formula can also spit out bland and tepid semi-rockers like "Man in the Glass". While the drums and flashy bass work perfectly on some numbers, their heavy hits turn some otherwise inoffensive tunes into stompy clunkers. Nonetheless, these plain folk from Atlanta offered some of the festival's most riveting and innovative permutations of the genre. The Larry set that followed dazzled the easily dazzled crowd to the wee hours, but their jumpy and nonsensical time changes, fractured compositions, lack of a top notch soloist, and the absence of a single memorable melody showed why these local boys are still struggling to find a foothold on the national scene. The campgrounds were filled with hot-pickin' amateurs and scattered professionals who plucked and trilled till sunrise, which opened another gorgeous day. Yonder Mountain String Band greeted the noon day sun with their high speed, downhill mountain grass. Eschewing the electric tastes of their contemporaries in the bluejamgrassband scene, this foursome simply adds their exploratory spirit to traditional bluegrass. Their acoustic banjo/bass/guitar/ mandolin line up and lonesome harmonies may wander into a reggae from time to time, but their music is undoubtedly rooted in rich bluegrass soil. It was a step between the traditional and electrified that appeased, enlightened, and impressed the gamut of ages and tastes. Flatly said, these kids absolutely cook, and every fool in the sea of fools could recognize their talent, which allowed them to see how the other half lives. By one o'clock I must have been dreaming. I could swear that I watched an 8 year old kid strap on a banjo, mount the stage between his father and uncle, and draw the crowds from all the other stages on talent alone. From the very first notes of "Pig In a Pen" to the final plink of "Foggy Mountain Breakdown", Ryan Holladay, the kid who took the Grand Old Opry stage for the first time at age 5, converted everyone within shouting distance. He picks like he is a nimble fingered 50, and he sings like he is at least eleven. Okay, so the kid can't sing a convincing lead. No one cared. His high harmonies were dead on, and his picking was exemplary by any standard. "Groundspeed" was the first step in a series of tunes that increased in speed and complexity as he closed his set. The descending scales flew by, proving that the kid has the chops. Flatt and Scruggs "Shuckin' the Corn" proved that the kid could solo effortlessly, and "White House Blues" confirmed it all when he made a noticeable mistake, his first in 50 minutes. Ryan Holladay may not be able to distinguish between the pronunciation of the letters "b" and "v" (as in "walking obation" as opposed to standing), but he can absolutely shred the "Foggy Mountain Breakdown". BGUG played their second set of the weekend next, and their main stage set, which featured "Friend of the Devil" and "Highwaymen" back to back, seemed tailored to grab the now typical hippies and cowboys crowd at Old Settler's. Their reworking of Ralph Stanley's "Oh Death" is fantastic, but this version seemed aimless and lost in the jammed sections. They were only able to capture flashes of the previous night's energy, but even that was enough to wow the unprepared crowd. Texas own Two High String Band seems to have adopted Eamon MacLachlan as a full time fourth to their acoustic trio. Good call. Eamon's fiddle is the ideal complement to Billy Bright's tasteful mandolin, and the second soloist makes all the difference. This 4:20 set also featured Bill Holden on the banjo. I don't know where Bill Holden comes from, but I bet they do nothing but grow large, bearded banjo players of the highest caliber there. Half the fun of this festival is knowing that much of the world's finest bluegrass talent is on the grounds. Well, Bill Holden would have walked away from the weekend with the "You Gotta Be Kidding Me" Banjo Award for the second year running. His set last year with Rowan, Rice, and Friends featured him in the shadows, but he shone bright Saturday. The Two High String Band mines the traditional song books for both songs and inspiration, and their music seems to leap at you from ages long forgotten. They rendered another fantastic set that many felt was the highlight of the weekend. The fivesome, completed by bassist Bryn Bright (Congratulations!) guitarist Brian Smith, headed to the Discovery stage where they gawked with the rest of us at the unassuming talent of Nickel Creek's 21 year old Chris Thile. If there is a finite amount of mandolin talent in the world, twenty-two people must have put theirs down for good when Thile first picked up his. When this kid's solo album hits the racks, run, don't walk. Local luminary Pedro Rowan was joined by the Brights, MacLachlan, Holden, and the Rev. Jeff Mosier, all of whom ran through the many standards of the Peter Rowan Song Book as well as a few from some of Pete's predecessors. "Hobo Song", "Panama Red", and ""In the Pines" all dripped with bluegrass tradition before I darted off to catch Smokin' Grass on the other end of the spectrum. Their bluegrass stew swings more than BGUG's, and the addition of 19 year old Vermonter Patrick Ross on fiddle fleshes out this side of their sound perfectly, conjuring the scratchy sounds of western swing 78's right before your eyes. The band knocked down the barriers between classic rock, bluegrass, and swing with authority on "Tow Truck Song", whose Crossroads>Owner of a Lonely Heart>Tom Sawyer>Fire Medley with reworked lyrics sent the crowd into titters of laughter again, but their best work seems to be in the jazzgrass area now, as their excellent new release, In the Barn confirms. The set was marred by faulty sound that virtually eliminated Adam Frehm on the dobro, but that did not temper the enthusiastic crowd which was thrilled to welcome the boys back to Texas. Peter Rowan then took the big stage with his host of friends, which now included a drummer from Trinidad, his usual percussionist, and a keyboardist from Kingston. Their set included Rowan's reggae-tinted originals like "Pullin' the Devil By the Tail" and "Fetch Wood, Carry Water", both of which took on added depth with the rich percussion, as well as his now standard take on "No Woman, No Cry". The experiment was not a rousing success, as the keyboards added little, but it is further though unnecessary proof that Rowan is not done playing with traditions and perceptions. Sunday morning came down to the sounds of the Two High Gospel String Band, the Two High quartet joined by Austinite Caroline Herring. Caroline's exquisite voice forced Bryn to sing higher than normal harmonies and brought out the best in Brian Smith. Eamon even dropped some startling low end harmonies into the mix. Their deft and soft touch on the traditional gospel tunes proved the perfect coda to another great year in Dripping Springs
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