Nels Cline and Julian Lage in support of their new album convincing guitarists everywhere to give up their instrument.
[Nels Cline and Julian Lage at The Egg Swyer Theater]
As no one listens without pictures anymore, the industrious nimble-fingered children at Sounding Stone cobbled together some random trail running iPhone footage to tell the story. Don't worry, it's jiggly on purpose.
[Local Hero video]
You would think more concerts like this would happen given our proximity to New York City. Instead, a recording session at Firehouse 12 and a flight to Argentina brings improvised music from the West Coast. More please...
See similar noises here:
[Melford + Goldberg - Toulouse]
That's right, the Elks Lodge. Mostly family and friends (I am neither) showed up to have minds blown. Very cool. A taste can be found on the KEXP YouTube channel linked under these words.
[Zammuto on KEXP (YouTube)]
Acoustic performance showing off the ridiculous skills of Stuart Duncan, Keith Sewell and Viktor Krauss. Russ Kunkel on drums and John Hagen on cello did not slouch either.
In honor of the 20th anniversary of attempts to write the great American prog-rock-folk-experimental-death-metal-free-jazz-alternative-klezmer-dubstep-turtle-fart song, Bender Melon created a Bandcamp page for those who are afraid of 20th century web logging technology. He obviously has nothing better to do and hopes you don't either.
[Bender Melon Bandcamp page]
No one wants to hear someone complain about the state of the planet... and yet Mr. Melon did it anyway. He's very annoying, but we've got a pretty good deal, why not try to protect it.
The title and tag are stolen from
this movie that everyone ought to place in front of their eyeballs.
Practicing 6ths turned into a thing.
[Lydia's Frappe Door #6]
Arrived at the San Francisco hotel and Josh noticed a tall bald man with a porn mustache. I said "That guy looks like Tony Levin, hey wait, that is Tony Levin, hey wait that's King Crimson!" Josh got out of the car and talked at Tony about our 9th grade Discipline obsession while Jakko Jakszyk and Bill Reiflin squirmed waiting for someone to hurry them off in their black SUV. We turned to let them escape just as Robert Fripp steps out the door clutching a man purse. I stared, he noticed me staring and quickly darted into the waiting escape vehicle before I could demand his signature on my boobs... and so the trip started. We passed the rest of the time in San Francisco meeting up with a friend at 21st Amendment Brewing on Saturday and on Sunday a long walk to but brief immersion in the Hardly Strictly Bluegrass Festival, at which we witnessed performances by Jimmie Dale Gilmour solo on an Airstream fashioned into a stage and Robbie Fulks with a super group of Robbie Gjersoe, Missy Raines (!), and Jenny Scheinman (finally YAY!) while children loudly discussed slaying dragons behind us. Then up 101 to Healdsburg for a week of cycling the Dry Creek, Alexander Valley, Russian River and Sonoma Coast. Beer, wine, food and general enjoyment of life have been documented for your eyeballs here.
Art, wooden bicycles, fancy guitars, picking with friends... oh, and some of the best musicians in the world entertaining a receptive crowd. Good stuff.
Also, Nate was immortalized in a Berkshire Eagle article that documents some resemblance to what actually happened... follow the link below.
[FreshGrass finds its jam at Mass MoCA - Berkshire Eagle
Pleasant evening in Bovina, NY with Frog Holler, Disciples of Agriculture, Esquela, The College Farm and Dan Baird and Homemade Sin. Missing are the earlier performers; reports were of excellence.
Jason Isbell and The 400 Unit, played through most of Southeastern, a few songs from the back catalog, and some of his Drive By Truckers songs. The band was tight. The witnesses were pleased. Jason Isbell, Sadler Vaden, guitar; bassist Jimbo Hart; drummer Chad Gamble and keyboard player Derry deBorja.
Opted to do a loop starting at the trailhead to Devil's Path up and over West Kill returning to Spruceton Rd. I'd leave a bike at the Spruceton Rd. trailhead next time as feets were tired by the end of the 3-mile (pleasant) walk-jog back to the car. A dip in the falls before heading home cured all that.
[West Kill Mountain Loop]
Jerry Douglas makes me angry, and he bores me to death. Simultaneously, because he never makes mistakes and plays cleaner than a chip fab plant. An opinion I formed based on prior experience watching him perform from a distant perspective at larger venues, mostly festivals, either with his own band or as support. From far away, it could be an animatronic dobro player. Ignorance formed from never actually seeing the man work up close; the expression on his face, fingers working each note. Whether it's originals, bluegrass standards or covering Hendrix, the intensity and good humor of his playing comes through in a smaller club. Alison Krauss called him one of the greatest musicians in the world, something I once thought was hyperbole.