Archive for the ‘Blues’ Category
Blues in the Schools (BITS) features little kiddies who’ve been taught all about blues music in a special program whose primary urgency is to reinterpret all those lyrics that might otherwise have been seen as lewd, crude and/or suggestive. Actually, the children seem pretty receptive to our music; what they learn is enough to stage a half hour performance every year at River Fest. This year, too, and we applauded and felt good, too. I do hope they don’t sanitize the lyrics overly much in the classroom and leave us with Pat Boone blues. (Learn)
There wasn’t a loser in the rest of Saturday’s program and I haven’t been able to say that in years, if ever, in the 14 or 15 years we’ve been trekking over the Marietta in the springtime. Veronika Jackson is a solo act who can make love to her guitar and sing sweet as a bird sitting among the dagwood blossoms in the spring…at the same time. A fitting appetizer for the Saturday afternoon lineup. (Buy)
And when you’ve said “Davina and the Vagabonds,” you’ve just about summed it up! Some would call them lightnin’ in a bottle. How that woman can dance around that electric piano without ever raising her butt off the piano stool is a mystery, even to me. Driven by a hard driving Dixieland beat, Davina, the lady of tattoos and every one of her band members are talented actors and musicians – entertainers even. (Must see) (Buy)
Then there was Little Joe McLerran who had given the maestro a great long list of his accomplishments in the public world of the blues. Won a big competition for solo and duet acts. Close your eyes as Little Joe tunes up with his dad (Ronnie Mack, the bass player) and you’re transported back to the hills of the Virginias and North Carolina and the rest of the Piedmont area. Unpolished but poised. People people on stage and off. Suggestions from the peanut gallery: Little Joe might work out the occasional kinks in his otherwise very good pickin’ style, and tone down his “aw-shucks” hicksteronstage personality (That’s a big OOPS if you-see-what-you-get!). (Buy)
Jumpin’ Johnny Sansone kicked off the evening session Saturday. Cajun! How can you not dance about and jump and shout like all the good folks of Marietta were doing in time with Jumpin’ Johnny’s beat. Understated. Splashed with warm spots of humor. . A wonderful let’s-pretend swagger. Play that accordion, Johnny. Tell us another one , Johnny. Don’t stop sanging, friend Johnny. Don’t stop! (See) (Buy)
‘Bout then I got tired from all that boogeying. Stayed for a couple of tunes from the big band sounds of Big Daddy (Charles) Stallings. New Jersey sounds. Smooth and silky. My only complaint is that it didn’t have the oomph a generous splash of soul would given it. Still, good listening, just that easy listening isn’t my idea of how to end the blues concert with an explosion of energy. Oh, well! (Semi-buy)
The crowd was Saturday lite, compared to other years we’ve attended. But no one, as far as I know, complained about my throne chair which sits in the middle of the first row for a perfect view, excepting when the dancers jump up and blind me to the stage with their belly buttons
Is it these funny glasses that distort the world for me and nobody else? Or is life as full of thrills and chills and spills as it continues to prove to me that it is? Or am I going to wake up any minute now from this (Is it “Alice in Wonderland” or “Great Expectations”) dream?
Naaawwww! I ‘spect it has something to do with my not-quite-departed mind gruadually losing its elasticity and leaving me with a concrete block for a drum!
Well, it’s Saturday morning and I just got waylaid by Don and CB looking for a jaunt downtown.
Went to both days of the festival; must have seen 15 – 20 acts. Enjoyed myself, running around on Junior, Jr, hellbent for arkansas, taking pictures, drinking beer and flat extracting a lot of pleasure out of lot. I didn’t stop often for more than time to take some pictures and fuel before racing, full tilt, onto the track. No standout music. Disappointment. I’m glad I’m learning to enjoy the event and not be stuck in the mud of mundane music. Unbeknownst to me, less than an hour after II Juicy died, I was watching her band brave on on stage. Jackie told me later and, in memoriam, tied a length of yarn around my wrist – it’s still there, still a vivid reminder of our music, of our pleasures and of our destination. I suppose Little Jimmie King was my favorite. Was most disappointed in Candye Kane (sp?); never dreamt she couldn’t sing. As always Dave pulled it all together on the main stage emceeing his butt off. Saw some shoes Don will be interested in. Saw friend Julie whom I haven’t seen in a year of Sundays. Can’t believe I got lost in the dark Friday night trying to find the parking lot. It simply wudn’t there. Until some kind lady looked at me with pity, pointed back over my shoulder and surmised if I scooted my butt down the railroad track thataway far enough I’d find what I’s looking for. Had a lot of fun with CB; would have been complete if my blues buddy Don had been there to yell at me for my unpitying music appraisals. 🙂
This is a test of a beginning of what I expect will be a gazillion photos and comments about genealogy, the lunchbunch, blues, photography and my written meanderings through what’s left of this misspent life. If it works, I think it’ll be easier than setting up my own URL, although I will continue to work on flebytes, as well. Enough nonsense, let’s see if this sucker publishes this BS.