In This Issue:
Pickin' and Grinnin' in Austin Town - Stubb's Bluegrass Festival
A Guitar, a Grin, and a Caustic Wit - Vic Chesnutt
The Funk Will Fly and Stick to the Walls - The Funky Meters
Even Okies Get to Boogie Every Once in a While - Gordon Stone Band

First Annual Stubb's Bluegrass Festival
October 5th, 1999 Stubb's Barbeque - Austin, TX

By Eric Rothschild and Chris Gardner

If the high lonesome sound of bluegrass music elevates your spirit with it's solacing harmonies and lively twang, then the wooden plank fence of Austin's Stubbs' BBQ may have looked like the pearly gates of heaven on Sunday, October 5th.

The BBQ joint was home to The First Annual Stubbs' Bluegrass Festival, and boasted a stellar line up of steady pickers, young and old, in an event that seemed like a passing of torches between generations. Legends Del McCoury and Peter Rowan integrated young talent into their lineups for a day of good food, great beer and even better music. Spontaneous ensembles were thrown together in moments, workshops were held, harmonies melded, butts wiggled, mind's were blown, and barbeque abounded.

Austin's own Bluegrass Drive-By kicked off the affair in high flying style as they blazed through a number of tunes about loves lost, found, and a few by Bill Monroe. The quartet's traditional style of play is outshined only by their exuberant sound that had folks slapping their knees and wiggling in their seats early in the afternoon.

Drive-By 's set included ditties about ladies like "Little Maggie" and "Bare Foot Nellie", as well as their own "Texas City Blues". As the set wound down the sound turned sweet and soul stirring with its harmonious blend of bluegrass, gospel and folk.

We can regrettably not report on the Lone Star Bluegrass Band, nor the early set by Peter Rowan, nor the appearances by Austin's own mando-maestro Paul Glasse. We can, however tell you that Billy Bright, Bryn Davies, and Brian Smith, more commonly known as the Two High String Band, huddled around the event's single mic and chugged through a series of originals and standards that quieted, lulled, mesmerized, and finally dazzled the appreciative crowd. Bright, who could hold his own in most any mandolin fight, and Smith (guitar) have an impressive collection of wry and witty originals like "Pillow Over the Bed", a tale of tough choices and "Not For Pete's Sake or My Own", a yarn about the trials of fidelity and loyalty. They closed with the traditional "Rank Strangers" that jumped tempos smoothly and featured some of their finest playing of the night.

Two High left the stage only briefly, returning to join Pedro Rowan for his second set of the night. Rowan's voice, always rich and powerful, became even more so when coupled with the dead-on harmonies of bassist Bryn Davies, who anchored both the Two High and Rowan sets deftly. Rowan ran through Panama Red and Hobo Song before inviting fiddler Jason Carter of the Del McCoury Band out for Wild Horses. Things started to heat up. Carter's blistering fiddle lines thrust Bright to higher heights (that feels a little too Sound of Music, doesn't it? Well anyway, it IS true) as he trilled back in response to Carter's every step. Rowan allowed ample space for all of his friends to showcase their considerable talents, but the encore was his. He laid out a reggae groove that quickly became No Woman, No Cry. Rowan owns this song, so much so that one dead sober but fully dazed reveler turned to me with, "Dude, trust me" eyes after its close and swore up and down that Rowan had written it. No such luck, but he may as well have. His use of positioning around the mic, mere foreshadowing of the choreographed numbers to come from Del, lend a fade to his rhythm that sounded like a whistling bird flying overhead and disappearing. It was the least "bluegrass" moment of the day and one of the finest. Rowan graciously left the stage, and we waited on Del McCoury.

I had never seen a "real bluegrass show." I didn't know this when I walked in. I had been to plenty of shows where very capable bands played exclusively bluegrass music, so I made the logical assumption that I had seen a real bluegrass show. I was mistaken. Del McCoury took the stage with guitar in hand. Flanking him were sons Ronnie (mandolin) and Rob (banjo). Jason Carter brought his fiddle back, and Mike Bub toted out the upright. Del did a stint in the Bill Monroe band, and he carries on the tradition in full style. The band was dressed to a T, suits, suspenders, and shiny shoes taboot. The five huddled around the single mic and flattened the audience. Many had come to see Rowan, whose idea of bluegrass incorporates the Rolling Stones and Hawaiian shirts, and those fans were in no way prepared for Del. The harmonies between the five were leaps and bounds better than anything else throughout the day. The instrumentation was, in a word, masterful, but the most intriguing thing to me was the motion.

The single mic is a gift, not a hindrance. They step to and from it (in unison, singly, in pairs, etc...) throughout the set like five men dancing with a single beautiful lady. The logistics of this are complex when the banjo solo falls quickly on the heels of the mandolin's. Ronnie would strike his final note and fade it as he stepped away. In a single instant, Rob would swoop in and slide into a ridiculous banjo solo, and all the while, daddy Del is leaning high over their shoulders to lean in a strike a quick rhythm of notes. I was literally dumbstruck for an hour. I could laugh a loony little laugh, cover my mouth, and wiggle a bit, but I could form nary a word for an hour. The first, when it came, was a muffled, "Damn."

Del fittingly invited his fellow Monroe Band alumnus Rowan out for the encore. I can't imagine any bluegrass festival would be complete without a series of Monroe songs to close it out. This of course added a sixth man to the one mic equation, and it was a dancing, twirling, wandering sixth at that. The pair harmonized, complemented and traded verses as though they had been on tour together for ages, grins curling across each of their faced as they conjured the Father of Bluegrass Music.

That's the secret of course. Bluegrass, like the blues, is a formula. The pieces are, in theory, interchangeable. A quick nod of the head, a crook of the finger, a raised eyebrow and it's your turn to lean in on the mic. It is the catch that breeds the sense of community among players, and it is a feeling that accompanies most any bluegrass set. It is the same sense of community that drags Warren Haynes into a String Cheese set, Lesh into a YEM, or Trey into a LOS jam, and it is the element that keeps music, whether it be traditional or ground-breakingly fresh, alive and transcendent.

Vic Chesnutt
11/7/99 - Cactus Café, Austin, TX

By Eric Rothschild

Vic Chesnutt came to town wielding only a guitar, a mouthful of horn effects and his regularly sordid, sardonic humor. He wowed the small crowd with his morbid, romantic, and real visions of everyday life including songs about migrating, foam eating, giant grasshoppers that you can't catch fish with and a bilocating dog (a dog that is in two places at once) named Ralph.

Between songs the humor was laid on thick with commentary that had most in attendance in stitches, then the air would be filled by Vic's crooning with child-like innocence. The first set was filled with old songs that nobody's heard before and new ones that weren't too shabby, though rough around the edges.

By the second set, Vic was taking requests from the crowd. The twisted storyteller embarked onto vaulted tune's like "Little Vacation", "Gluefoot", and "Steve Willoughby", as well as an elegant rendition of The Salesman and Bernadette's (??) "Maiden on a Holiday".

To close the show he appeased all the Widespread Panic fans in the audience with his own "perennial favorite" Aunt Avis and Brute's "Sewing Machine". The entire night was a testament to the humble genius' songwriting ability, offering an intimate look into the mind of the man.

The Funky Meters
11/5/99 Stubbs' BBQ, Austin, TX

by Eric Rothschild

After booking problems that kept the fathers of funk on the small indoor stage of Stubbs' BBQ, instead of the airy outdoor amphitheater by Waller Creek, one may think the Meters would have given a less than par performance. To the dismay of the over 300 people that were turned away at the door, this was not true as the Meters brought the full on funk in a way that only the Uptown Rulers can.

Papa Funk Art Neville and bass in yo' face George Porter led the crowd in a "take it outside" chant that resurfaced in about every other song. The Meters tore through old favorites like "Fire on the Bayou", "Africa" and "Ain't No Use" before taking a break so short they didn't even get off the stage.

The Meters then tried to tear the little room down with a funkelicious "Meter Maid" that gave way to blazing guitars in a Santana jam and Jimi Hendrix's "Red House" > "Voodoo Chile". Though the room was packed tight, the show closing "Hey Pockey Way" had most testifying and begging for more as the night came to an all too quick end.

Gordon Stone Trio
10/25/99 Roxies BBQ, Tahlequah, OK

by Jennifer Kirk

Oklahomans are very rarely graced with the presence of musical acts coming through, we never really have been. Occasionally, a decent music act comes here, but they are few and far between. I find myself driving to every surrounding state just to catch a show. But not this time. On Monday, November 25, I found myself and other "Okies" in Tahlequah, to witness one hell of a performance! The Gordon Stone Trio put on one of the most fantastic shows, I've ever witnessed, and I'm glad I was there. Roxie's B-B-Q served as the venue, and by my standards, this is probably the best smaller outside venue I've ever seen. The inside consists of the restaurant and bar, then you walk outside to the big porch which serves as a stage , there is a balcony over looking the stage, a back yard complete with a bonfire, mini-bar, and the smokehouse. The entire building is built upon a huge rock, which is the beginning of the Ozarks, right next to the river. Absolutely beautiful!

Now on to the show. Gordon Stone played banjo and pedal steel, backed by Russ Lawton on drums, and Andy Cotton on bass. I don't think the band expected much of a turnout, I mean a Monday night in Tahlequah, Oklahoma? C'mon, who would? But we turned out, I'd say probably 200-300, maybe more. The band was impressed by the turnout and especially the attitude of the crowd - just there to have fun. The band play 3 sets, and just over 3 hours long. They played a couple from "Touch and Go" and a few from the trio's most recent studio release " Even With the Odds". Overall, the evening was fantastic. It seemed that everyone had a wonderful time. I highly recommend seeing the trio, if they are in a town near you. I know I will again. I would also like to encourage other "jam bands" to come here - us "Okies" can boogie just like the rest of ya'll!