sitting at the holiday inn in birmingham
I have to admit that I had a great time playing in this joint up in the hills above Birmingham tonight. Right now I'm back at the hotel with a bottle of Jameson's that a nice liquor salesman gave me. Privacy + itunes shuffle + work over + whiskey = happy reflection time. Bill Carlisle and the gang were just singing "Love Love Love" preceded by Ali Farka Toure. Earlier in the rotation I was assaulted by a fleeting thought, to wit:
"I like singers who you can immediately tell who they are before they sing because they start the song singing through their hands. Charlie Rich and Doc Watson, I'm looking at YOU!"
That was my thought, and it happened before the Jameson's seal got broken. What I'm mainly thinking about now, post-seal, what's got my mood all feather-light, is the show and the people at it. What was different about them? Was it the region? I'm pretty used to audience variations; some get going after you hit them with a combination of serious lyrics and easy talking and fast picking, and some get going mainly on funny songs and profanity, and some just never get going. Most of them don't get going without your having to work them, a little...saying something funny, playing something fast or difficult, putting them at ease. This one tonight was with me right away. I hardly had to do a thing -- the first song, a soft midtempo thing, had a gentle and fluid guitar break that my partner played, and they got excited by that, and I thought, Holy Moses. I'm gonna hold them off a bit, keep hinting at what my abilities are, like cockily romancing a girl, and then really dig into this mother with all my might and knock the walls fucking down. I know it sounds conceited, but it's rare, and I got a charge out of it.
I kept thinking about the regional thing, though. I sing a lot about the southeastern states, and I play music indigenous to them. A pair of white boys picking flattop guitar in the tradtion of Doc and all the fiddlers before him, channeling lonelieness and death and nostalgia, and you'd think that would translate like Ali Farka Toure anywhere, and it pretty much does -- but here, it seems to move with lightning preverbal speed and no translation needed.
In 1993, after a decade living in Chicago and trying to establish a listenership for my wares there, I went to Nashville. The reaction at the publishers and performing rights orgs I visited -- its positivity and immmediacy -- shocked me. I obtained industry champions at once and a job writing songs shortly after. All the while I was thinking, "Have I just been living in the wrong place for the music I play? Are my feet in one place and my voice in another?" Screwy thought, because I love Chicago in twelve different ways, and it's where my family and I are planted, period. But I did think that, and I thought it again here, tonight. What a great feeling of welcome -- thanks to everyone who was there.
8 comments
So you LOVED Nashville and wrote "Fuck This Town" about that fair city. What's in store for Birmingham??
Robbie,
That was an awesome concert at Moonlight. I was the guy who told you I was going to burn my guitar and mandolin when I got home. I didn't but good golly Ms. Molly after seeing you guys play....wow.
Thanks for coming to Birmingham.
Beck
Robbie--
As I think I shared with you last night, operating The Moonlight has always been an uphill climb--- what keeps me at it are the intermittent successes, of which your show was certainly one. An even greater mark of achievement for me is being mentioned in the blog, with a generous salutation of overt gratitude... mostly due the audience, yes, but I'll credit myself for getting them here in front of ya.
It's an uphill climb, aye--- my thanks to you for helping to push the wagon. We'll keep at it long as we can, and hope to see you here again next year---
keith
I was at the show and it was great. The spaces are too long between City Stages, Zydeco and Moonlight. I was at all those shows. You should travel this way more often.
It's a beautiful thing. I wish I had been there.
What a privilege to hear you and Rob play at the Moonlight that night! I had never heard of you before, but everyone else there seemed to be a fan already. As I listen to your CD's, I think about that night and how perfect the two of you sounded together, how you knew each other and could play perfectly together, and how the extra instruments on the CD's detract, rather than enhance, from your nuanced sound. I will spread the word to my daughter in Chicago to go hear you at the Hideout, but I think you are right...there is an appreciation in the South for the music you play that you might not get in Chicago. Thanks for such a memorable musical evening for us!
Thanks for making it back into Birmingham. My hatred of crowds kept me from seeing you at City Stages,and I never knew you played at Zydeco.
My wife and I saw you in Dallas at the Gypsy Tea Room back in 2001 and we've both been big fans since then. You signed a copy of "Happy" for me on Sunday night.
I really just wanted to drop you a line and let you know how much I appreciate you coming to the 'ham. I sincerely hope it won't be so long before you're back here (or even somewhere fairly close).
Thanks for doing what you do. Hope to see you again soon.
Cason Butterworth (yes,that's my real name).
File this under What you Should Say to a Performer After a Show:
"That was an awesome concert at Moonlight. I was the guy who told you I was going to burn my guitar and mandolin when I got home. I didn't but good golly Ms. Molly after seeing you guys play....wow."
Good stuff.