Tony Rice's Voice - a Lost Treasure

I love Tony Rice's musicality. His guitar playing is sublime--superior--soaring above whatever song he plays and whomever joins him. Tonight I salute and sincerely regret the loss of his singing, even while his guitar picking remains. Tony, 61, suffers from dysphonia, and hasn't been able to sing since the early 1990s.

I first became aware of Tony's genius when he was playing "Dawg Music" as part of the David Grisman Quintet. He left in 1979, but he stayed active, and released albums as the Tony Rice Unit. This was instrumental, in the style of Grisman.

These days, I listen over and over to his incredible album, Tony Rice Sings Gordon Lightfoot. I savor Lightfoot anyway--having virtually every bit of his work (minus one tough-to-get concert album--probably available in vinyl only). This album is the aural equivalent of a massage. I put it on and lay back and enjoy--and often fall asleep. It got so I had to put the CD on in the middle so I'd get to hear the later tracks at all. This is no fault of Tony--the songs are good rousing bluegrass--but the musicality of everyone is so profoundly affecting that I simply relax. One especially stressful evening when I couldn't sleep I went out to the living room and put it on to try to get some sleep. It worked.

I have a CD called Quartet, by Peter Rowan and Tony Rice from five years ago. It features Tony with bluegrass legend Rowan and two fantastic female musicians/vocalists playing mandolin and bass. The ladies also sing the harmonies, because Tony can no longer do it.

I'll continue buying Tony's music, one album at a time, on iTunes. The Lightfoot tunes are spread across several, but he also has recorded many great bluegrass and folk classics. After listening to my collection as I washed the mountain of Thanksgiving dinner dishes, I just ordered up another album, Cold on the Shoulder. That's a Lightfoot, song, yes. So now I have two copies of Tony's rendition.

But, someday, I'll have all the Tony Rice singing there is, and there won't be any more. That's very sad.

Weekend of Music and Beer

Somehow, the last three days became a whirlwind tour of music and beer. Today, starting with my oatmeal with almonds, I will get back to normal.

Friday night, I met three people from a company I work with through my job at the Devil's Canyon Brewing Company's monthly public events. Music was by Billy Manzik, featuring Billy on guitar, a guy on saxophone and a lady upright bass player (always a treat). It went well with the two beers I sampled--a light champagne style and the Kaleidoscope dark.

Afterwards, we went to a Louisiana style restaurant where a third beer, along with a pound of spicy shrimp, went down much too easily.

Saturday evening I went to hear the highly talented Stadler Gibbons Band, featuring Mike Stadler, Mary Gibbons, with ace pedal steel and dobro player Jon Mitguard and incredible bassist Chuck Irvin--who makes it look easy (it's not). They played at the Urban Island Concert Series, which takes place at the loading doc behind the Urban Island used furniture store. The evening began with a surprisingly entertaining duo, The Red Shoes, comprising two young ladies that appeared to be high school seniors playing fiddle with cello, occasionally switching up for ukelele. Their stage presence and apparent total lack of stage fright was charming--and they had the chops to keep it moving with just the two of them.

The next act, Emily Bonn and the Vivants, delivered a powerful shot of old-time dance tunes, honky-tonk country, and western swing. Emily writes a lot of her own material and her powerful voice invigorates the show. Accompanied by a tap-dancing violinist, a double-bassist with the longest mustache I've seen in some time, and a stirring accordionist, Emily's guitar playing and presence made this a group worth watching--and following.

Stadler Gibbons was the headliner, and they gave the kind of performance that has kept me following them around for the last year. Mike has the fine pipes of an old folkie, as does Mary, and the musicianship is extremely high level. As a bassist, I appreciate Chuck's versatility and style, and Jon's pedal steel is out of this world.

The beer this time had to happen afterwards, since the Urban Island provided a solitary Thai food truck (the roti was tasty, but no alcohol was available). We went to the Hobnob bar nearby for a couple glasses of Arrogant Bastard Ale. Yum.

Sunday I shifted gears and listened to fine chamber music performances by the Summer Quartet (strings) and the Hillside Quintet (winds) at my local library. All nine people are members of the Castro Valley Chamber Orchestra, of which I also am a member. Afterwards, some of the musicians went to a local Mexican restaurant for beer and, it turned out, some tasty food. (I had the golfos).

Now it, Monday, and time to get back to work!

Hey! Come Hear Barbwyre!

Last night I went to hear Barbwyre, an excellent trio of musicians that play their country/folk/bluegrass sound to perfection--mostly original compositions. I've heard them before and they delivered--sounding even better perhaps, if that's possible. Over Rob's agile electric bass are Jon's pedal steel, dobro and guitar and Dana's mandolin, guitar and beautifully built cittern (octave mandolin).

They were playing in a perfectly nice venue - the High Street Station in Alameda, where I have seen them, other bands, and even played with my band, Red Paint. So--where were the people? I counted nine in the audience, including myself, and I later learned that three of them were relatives of the band. A couple more straggled in later.

It seems that being good isn't good enough. What is it that motivates people to come hear you? Red Paint, as it gets better, is still working on this issue.

Please--Support your local live musicians! Thank you.

Tom Rush - Urge for Going

If you go to Pandora and create a Gordon Lightfoot station, you'll hear a fine selection of singers in his style. One of them is Tom Rush. He sings Urge for Going, a Joni Mitchell song. Yesterday, I heard it again, and it's a real beauty.

The mood created by a baritone, a tinkling guitar, and a few satisfying chord changes can haunt your whole day. Joni herself is a master of setting a memorable mood with melody and poetry combined, and this particular song works for me.

Tom was a folkie in the 1960's, and recorded some albums, but he took a long break and released a new CD, What I Know, in 2009. His 1999 compilation, The Very Best of Tom Rush, is going to live in my iPod very shortly. I've got the urge for listening.

Mike Stadler and Mary Gibbons Do It Again

You know you like a band when you seek them out and go see them again. That's what I did last night, when I heard Mike Stadler and Mary Gibbons play at the Frog and Fiddle in Alameda, California. Along with Chuck Ervin on upright bass and Jon Mitguard on pedal steel and dobro, they put out a smooth, clean, finely honed country western blend of bluegrass, folk and Texas swing that satisfies.

My friend Bruce and I got there just when it was starting out and heard a long first set from a table right in front. It was my first visit to the Frog and Fiddle, and I found it was a compact, friendly space with Guinness posters and guitars on the walls, a well-stocked bar on the right and intimate table seating in the rest of the place. I visited the surprisingly spacious (and pleasingly clean) restroom before I left and can tell that the place is well maintained.

I didn't write down the numerous tracks the band played, but Mike and Mary are both fine solo singers and a strong duet. Jon sang a few himself while working the beautiful pedal steel and occasionally, his dobro. Chuck kept up a strong pulse and even leaned in for four-part harmony on one number. Mike likes to switch between his acoustic and electric guitars and sometimes puts his mandolin on his broad shoulders for a more bluegrass-style song.

I was once again pleased to hear three songs by a favorite of mine--Hal Ketchum. Mike took the lead on two while Mary led on Past the Point of Rescue--one of Hal's most popular tunes.

Putting the talent up front is a nice draw to pull folks in from the street, but the club is also lining up regular music performances, so Alameda is becoming a real place to go for live entertainment.

Cars and Music - 40 years ago

Test Driving Life combines my interest in music with my longtime association with cars. That means sometimes it's one and sometimes the other (or if I'm lucky, both). Or--sometimes it's something else--I call that stuff "the third half."

In any case, I woke up today knowing I had a one-hour set to play with Red Paint and remembered a time long ago, when I was starting out on my brief solo "minstrel" career. I was occasionally playing open mike nights at places like the Coffee Gallery in North Beach (San Francisco) but what came back to me was the several times I drove up to Stockton (1-1/2 hours away) to play at the Beauty and the Beast Coffee House. I have little 8-1/2 x 11 posters to prove it!

A guy I'd met locally in an extremely brief band association, Pat Kelley, called me and up I went. We were in our late teens, and he was living with his parents, but he had the garage apartment. That meant we were free to enjoy smoking some substances--I know that I remember little of those musical weekends today because I was not normal during much of them.

My plan was to sit on stage with my guitar and sing my songs. I enjoyed it immensely, but alas, the world was filled with "Bob Dylan's Understudies" back then and I was not exceptionally talented or driven.

Now--the car part. My sweet mother lent me her beautiful baby blue 1966 Dodge Dart convertible to drive to Stockton and back. I was pretty much recovered from my indulgence by the time I slipped behind the wheel on the way home (clear and sharp on the way up, of course). It was a joy to drive that car around with its quick-drop electric top. It had a three-speed manual transmission -- on the tree. What a beauty. Try finding one today.

That car is long gone, and my dream of a strumming and singing career had faded away by 1972. I went off to college instead. But I still remember something of Pat and the Beauty and the Beast Coffee House (and those lost weekends).

Bob Dylan Is 70 Today--Really?

I knew his birthday was around this time, and that it was a "milestone," but 70 and Bob Dylan don't really go together for me. Being 12 years behind Bob, my introduction to him wasn't during his skinny New York folk period but the mid-1960's folk-rock time, when "Like a Rolling Stone" and "Positively 4th Street" burst on the pop scene. I later bought those early albums, where I could hear him sing "Blowing in the Wind" and "The Lonesome Death of Hattie Carroll," and "Mr. Tambourine Man."

I remember how Nashville Skyline was a huge departure -- he actually sang more melodically -- and then the New Morning LP from 1970 where he seemed to come back a little to himself. But after that, I didn't follow Dylan very closely. I just knew he was out there being Bob Dylan.

And that's important to many of us who enjoy being amateur musicians. I remember, when I was just 18 and going out to open mike nights in San Francisco, that a sign by the sign-up sheet read "Featuring Bob Dylan's understudies nightly." We strummed and we sang but we were not Bob.

I think it's probably much easier to not be a tortured genius--which he certainly is. It's easier to admire him than to be him, and today I celebrate his life and his continued writing, recording and touring.

I've always liked his Blonde on Blonde album, especially "Leopard Skin Pillbox Hat."

I went to YouTube to find Bob singing Positively 4th Street. I didn't find him--just numerous "understudies."