Ah, the last of my 30! My father had a working bar band, a ”weekend warriors” group, that played most every Friday and Saturday night in a night club (4 hours per night). The members had day jobs through the week, but the supplemental monies earned from weekend music “gigs” was vital income. Growing up and watching my father drive away on those weekend nights was hard to witness. Of course, I wanted him to be home, but, the bigger reason was that I wanted to know WHAT THAT WAS LIKE ( playing music in a band)! Boy, would I find that out! As I recall, I was late 14 years old when his band, The Nashville Rebels, started a house-band stint at an old schoolhouse. As a “family” environment, youngsters could get in the place, and I rode along when I had no sporting games (I was a perennial athlete). The first time I sat in with the band, playing my brother Mike’s Fender Rhodes keyboard and singing two songs, changed my life. The sound of the full drum kit, the booming electric bass guitar, and a guitarist with a screaming amplifier all around me established WITHOUT A DOUBT what I would spend my life doing. So, here I am. I turn 58 on January 16th, and music business is my livelihood. I was just starting to play guitar, as piano had been my instrument for 5 years. At the dawn of turning 15 my dad allowed me to join in for the entire gig, using my acquired Gibson Les Paul (all my childhood savings went into buying a used, black Les Paul at $350). He split his share of the money with me, so I walked with $25 a night for about a year. A year later, my oldest brother, Larry (29-ish) stopped being in the band, leaving me as the sole guitarist. My pay doubled to $50 a night, occasionally being $40 or $60 and up. I can still hear the sounds from that first year. Larry’s guitar (another Les Paul), Mike’s Rhodes piano (a bell-like chimey-ness keyboard tone), my dad’s Fender Precision electric bass guitar through an Ampeg amp, and the drummer’s kit (a tambourine sat on top of his high hat at all times!). The drummer was Andy Allan. Mike sang most of the songs. Larry and my father really never sang, though Larry would sometimes cover Turn Out The Lights (And Love Me Tonight). Andy added harmonies and I did, too. Several times a night would find me singing lead. That would steadily change in the coming few years, as my vocals became more and more a part of the fabric. The band name had come from an earlier line-up being in a movie, The Nashville Rebel, as Waylon Jenning’s backing group in several scenes (1966). My father had asked for use of the name and it was allowed. So, there I was from late 1979 through early 1983 serving as guitarist-singer in a later incarnation. We were a country band, with a variety of rock and roll, blues, polkas, etc. included in a night’s engagement. We had a backdrop made of plywood and cloth that said “Nashville Rebels”, using glitter substance. The Confederate flag was a pronounced part of the design. I would not be caught dead with such imagery behind me now, as I detest the symbolism of it. There were no people “of color” at the gigs, so, the backdrop suited many of the blue collar white folks with necks of red who came and danced away their week. I thought little of it then, at age 15/16. I do think of it now, and it is not for me. In fact, we played Johnny Russell’s hit “Rednecks, White Socks, and Blue Ribbon Beer”, on occasion. Our sets consisted of doing whatever came to mind, with constant audience-requested songs, too. In that first year of mine the songs were performed without any rehearsing. We were expected to know all the standard country hits, as well as bar band staple rock and roll tunes. For The Good Times, Easy Loving, Your Cheatin’ Heart, Good Hearted Woman, Crazy, Backside Of Thirty, Rose Colored Glasses, Farewell Party, Green Green Grass Of Home, The Fugitive, Sing Me Back Home, Your Lyin’ Blue Eyes, Rollin’ In My Sweet Baby’s Arms, Texas (When I Die), Faded Love, Workin’ Man Blues. All of these and so many more. Blue Suede Shoes, Roll Over Beethoven, Twist and Shout, Kansas City, Elvira (a rock and roll song we did before Oak Ridge Boys had the massive hit countrified version). We did instrumental songs Wheels, Wildwood Flower, Wipeout, Orange Blossom Special (my father was a fiddler). I had to play bass when my dad went to his fiddle. We did a number of long square dance songs and watched as a “caller” barked out the dance moves to the dance floor, using one of our microphones. The whole schoolhouse building would shake for that. Black Mountain Rag, Liberty, Come Along Cindy, Down Yonder, Footprints In The Snow and countless other “fiddle tunes” were played, as my father had a slew of them. He played them on his fiddle, named Old Cheatham. The instrument was named after the song “Bill Cheatham” and had been my grandfather’s and my great grandfather’s fiddle. Old Cheatham is now in my possession. People could “brown bag” booze into the building, a legal arrangement. It created a wild, rowdy atmosphere. The fact that kids were there did not deter grown men from fights. Audience members could, at times, rudely complain about a song we played. Or, our volume level. Or, whatever their selfish, hot headed brain could conjure and yell out. After the months and months, then years and years, of that kind of environment, it is amazing I would want to play music full-time, or at all. I saw family squabble over it, my mother campaign to have me not do it, my organized baseball playing end over it, my high school years of weekends spent in beer joints, and uncouth people try to make me feel bad about playing music. However, I stuck with it. I believed I could do it professionally and that I would love it over any other career. I grew and grew and grew, artistically. I managed to play in opera houses, theaters, theatres, on TV. I made albums, wrote hundreds of songs, played in 20 countries. I am lucky. As of now, my health is reasonably good. I can get engagements to play around my country, though I have lost touring in other countries. Only far west of Canada brings me in to tour, not the rest. I beg and plead for gigs all over the US. My community of 58 years has been very sluggish toward coming to hear me perform. It is like dragging my amp on to the stage of Fredonia schoolhouse in 1980, spending my weekend playing music for beer-guzzling yahoos, and forfeiting whatever it is I am forfeiting in life. I am going to keep doing it. Spend your hundreds on the big star, sit in your arena, sing along to your 50-year old classic pop songs in your untrained, out of tune falsetto voice. I don’t care. I am going to perform. I love the music, I must. No one would put in that first year of playing Fridays and Saturdays in the Nashville Rebels unless the love for doing it outweighs the downer aspects of it. Somehow, that lone positive still gives me drive to sing and play. The year 2023 is about to start, as of this writing. The musical sounds of Tom (my father), Larry, Mike, and Andy are still swimming around in my head. Probably, those sounds are echoing in the old schoolhouse, which has been renovated to offices.

  These albums are ones that I played on and the thoughts I have about them: 1)Town Square (2009) was a double-disc album from the duo Stacey Earle & Mark Stuart. It was intended to be what live audiences heard from us in concert. Yes, a previous double-disc album, Must Be Live, had been released in 2001. But, that album was before numerous studio albums had been released AND many newer songs had been written. Furthermore, it was “Stacey heavy” in that few of my songs are included. It was a bit less “duo”. Town Square was performed live in a studio, just without audience. The tracks had no overdubbing, no fixes, no layering of parts. We played our acoustic guitars, occasional harmonica, and sang our parts in a TAKE, song by song. The performances of these songs are how they were done on a stage, night to night, country to country. If you REALLY want to know what this duo sounds like you will need to get this album and hear the guitar interplay and harmonies. The lyrics are all ours. 2) Takes One To Know One (2005) is by the artist Teddy Larkin. It is one of my favorite albums ever, certainly one of my favorites to help record. When a friend musician was asked about a guitarist for these tracks some 8 players were brought to Teddy’s attention. He seemed to think they were all too “Nashville” in their ideas. So, the friend introduced him to my work and he was happy to have me do the entire record. I was “number 9”, you might say. I love all the songs, that attracted me from the beginning. Then, Teddy gave me a large flexibility in playing what I thought best. All of my electric guitar, acoustic guitar, and mandolin parts are some of my best work. I am biased because of that, yes, but the entirety of the album (players, engineering, lyrics, etc.) is fantastic. I need to hear it regularly. 3) Steve Forbert’s live album from 2004 has a long title. Wait for it: Steve Forbert Good Soul Food Live At The Ark Ann Arbor Michigan June 3,2004 Featuring Mark Stuart. With just our acoustic guitars the artist took his hired “gun” on tour, then, informed me of this album after releasing it! At first, I was concerned. I knew there were concerts that were not great, some that were. Until hearing this CD I had mixed emotions. It turned out to be one of our decent shows, not the best, but decent. He DID feature my name and likeness on the cover. I always wished he would allow me to play the way I wanted on his stuff, but there was lots of dictating my guitar parts. This is a good representation of Steve onstage with a guitarist accompanist. It could have been better if I was more free to choose the playing. His songs are great and his fans love this record, I believe. 4) Dedication. This is an album from 2012, the last Stacey Earle & Mark Stuart album, to date. I had written a batch of new songs and was excited about them. Plus, we had resurrected one of my gems from just before we met, doing it in our shows (the title cut). Inspired by this cluster of songs, all strong works in the opinion of both of us, Stacey set out to write some new songs. We co-wrote a bit, too. Most importantly, our production direction was one that took us into a more “Pop-ish” and “Beatle-y” turn than before. It had always been an influence, but, to demonstrate an outward sampling of The Beatles’ coloring (colouring) on our albums was a first. An acquired piano from 1928 had driven us to write and we used that very instrument on the album (recording gear was brought to our home for piano tracking). I played bass guitar, electric guitars, slide guitars, acoustic guitars. We placed some slick backing vocals onto some songs. I love it, the record. 5) Lifeshakes is a record I played on in Harrisburg, Pennsylvania. The artist is Antonio Andrade. He had a lot of fantastic songs and asked me to play on the album. Given a “rough” of all the songs, recordings of mostly acoustic guitar and bassist Freebo, I set out to establish my parts. When I arrived with my ideas (electric guitar, acoustic guitar, vocals, etc.) Antonio was quite pleased with it all. As a result, some of my best work is throughout this record. I was given a license and used it to express my musicality to its fullest. I love the album, still. 6) Steve Earle’s El Corazon is a product of mostly songs the artist wrote during a couple of years of touring with his band. I was in that band and we would work up the songs at sound checks, then, toss them in as an encore, in some cases. When it was time to record the numbers in 1997, during a window off the road, I was left not playing on a few of the ones I had been doing onstage. Furthermore, I was not allowed to play ANY electric guitar parts (my best instrument). In the case of Ft. Worth Blues a mandola was handed me to play, though I had never played one! I had been using the sister instrument, mandolin, on tour. I guess that qualified me! Upon noting my limited role, the artist promised I would be called in to do all the background vocals and harmonies, as I was a strong singer. When I was left out of all of that, too, it was a sign that it was time to move on from this “band”. I have, still, never owned a copy of this major release in which I am credited. For those familiar with this album, I DID play on Telephone Road, Taneytown, Somewhere Out There, and a couple of others. It is a very good record from Steve, but, bittersweet for me. I did not tour the record, as I stepped away just as it was unleashed to the public. 7) Just Like There’s Nothin’ To It-this Steve Forbert album from 2004 is a very good record, I think. I play on some of the tracks, acoustic and 12-string guitars. The artist would have me on tour with him after the release. We were always an acoustic twosome for all those concerts. I had to try and work out parts on my guitar that was replacement for a very pop-production kind of record. 8)Left Of Nashville is a Mark Stuart solo record from 2008. I had two plans in mind: play all instruments on a record (as my biggest musical heroes had done -Paul McCartney and John Fogerty), and, do an album in two days time. Although, I can play drums, I decided against having a drum kit on the record. I did use assorted percussions. I played acoustic 6 and 12-string guitars, electric guitars, piano, slide guitar, and represented all vocals. I wrote all the songs, of course. Some of the material was very new, some songs were older ones that had not made it onto albums. 12 & 49 Crossroads is a blues-style acoustic guitar instrumental. I do it in shows today. Sal’s Song was a piece I was assigned to write at a songwriting retreat, where I was an instructor. Left of Nashville had just been written and reflected the status of being an “outsider” in the music community I grew up around. It was the title track, with no reservation about it. Inside the song is a little nod to Roger McGuinn (12-string part) and George Harrison (electric slide part). The chord progression is McCartney-like, in my view. I was starting to tour heavier as a solo act and this album was to be my new “product” to coincide with that.

 The making of an album Simple Gearle, days away from the 25th anniversary of doing so, is topic #28. In Nashville I had performed with my wife, Stacey Earle, since February of ‘92. We married in late ‘93, but, had been onstage together, in studios together, and rehearsing songs together since meeting one another. I had seen several opportunities come about for Stacey, as a writer-artist, to be recorded/produced by different music industry people. The first thing that would be done was limit my role in the recording. Though I was there for the writing process of most of her songs, helping to craft an arrangement, and establish guitar and vocal harmony parts the producer would always counter that work with his own approach. The non-stop gigging that we did with two acoustic guitars and two voices would be greatly altered to electric guitars and/or steel guitars, electric bass, full drum kit, and so on. The second thing to be done, behind limiting my playing, was to take Stacey’s guitar out of her hands OR reduce its significance. The end result was one that had lost the “magic” and put a “big production” layering of instruments onto the songs. A layering that had lost its soul , THE soul. After Stacey had wrapped up a three-year stint as a staff songwriter, and I had stepped out of a two-three year stretch in her brother Steve’s band, we were ready to tackle making an actual record, one that would reflect how WE treated her songs. We had always known that HER guitar playing was a specific charm in the sound of her musical pieces. And, MY acoustic guitar sensibilities were honed around that. My use of octaves for intros, solos, and outros were the correct ideas with her percussive rhythm style. The choice to keep my own guitar out of the first verse, allowing her guitar and voice to introduce the song to the listener, only to make its way in at the right moment, was the difference-maker in spellbinding the audience. I knew it and she knew it. Yes, a “stripped-down”, acoustic based record was the thing to make. We had to borrow the money from a friend, Paul, to do a two-three day process of recording and mixing Simple Gearle. Yes, it was done in a very short window. We had three friends to play on the tracks, friends who had understood more than others, what our “sound” really was. Mike Webb, John Gardner, and Mark Prentice rounded out, tastefully, what was built around Stacey’s guitar/vocal and my guitar/harmony vocal. Andrea Zonn did play on one track, too. $2,300 paid for the studio time, the engineer (Nathan Green), the players (who did their parts for next to nothing), AND the first 500 CDs! That is right, we spent the totality of $2,300 for making it AND manufacture of 500 CDs. Our first show to have it in hand was at Twice Told Coffee in Louisville, KY. Stacey’s father had to drive to the warehouse and pick up the first batch, then drive 2 1/2 hours to our venue for show time. The sellout of 45 persons in that tiny room led to selling 27 copies of Simple Gearle at $15 a piece. Imagine that today-27 people out of 45 buying a grassroots artist’s new record for $15! Let me reflect a moment on how we recorded our parts. Stacey LOVED my dark sunburst Gibson J-50 acoustic guitar, more than her blonde finish Gibson J-45. So, she played every one of her guitar parts on it. Then, I played MY parts on the same J-50. I changed the strings to have sparkly new ones for her, tuned it, placed a capo on the correct fret, tweaked the tuning again, handed Stacey the guitar. She played AND sang the entirety of each song, me sitting next to her, having just tuned my guitar perfectly for her. The next day, I changed the strings, tuned, and put my parts down. The other players came in later and added a bit to what our guitar tracks (and voices) had spearheaded. For the first time, the recording of Stacey’s songs were more in step with what we wanted. This all happened in the first few days of 1998. Thanks to Malcom Holcombe taking Stacey under his wings, and introducing her (and me) to the world of folk, grassroots, singer-songwriter, do-it-yourself, independent artists we found a home for our music. Malcom’s role had JUST taken place in the latter part of ‘97, and by early ‘98 we focused on nothing but being touring-recording artists. Owning our own little label, expanding our tour dates beyond the Nashville music arena, even outside the southeastern USA, to Canada and Europe-all came from having made the album Simple Gearle at the start of 1998. Where did time go? 25 years.

   My favorite singer/songwriters are about to be named. At the top of the list will be a few giant favorites, then, some others I greatly appreciate. No doubt, some great ones will not be listed, though I could go on and on listing. PAUL McCARTNEY is at the top. I love the package that includes the lyrics (though, bonehead after bonehead will line up to believe he is not a great lyricist). Get over it, his lyrics can be splendid. His vocals are fantastic, a man of several distinct voices. His musicianship is great. I love that he writes and performs on piano, acoustic guitar, bass, electric guitar, and drums (yes, creating drum parts, even singing from behind the kit in some rare instances). Please stop comparing him to one specific rock artist from long ago. His work STANDS ON ITS OWN. JOHN FOGERTY is way up there with me. I love his songwriting, voice, musicality. He has written great songs in the latter part of his career. I hope folks do not ONLY know his twenty-something work, which WAS often great. Like McCartney, his work that attracts me does not end with his first legendary band breaking up. JOHN LENNON died at 40, though his body of work consists of some of the greatest songs pop music ever offered. He was a tremendous influence on me. STEVE EARLE may be my brother-in-law, but, his songwriting from his first four albums is among the greatest songs I know. Later, there would be gems, and some people prefer later work of his. But, the first four albums are the high bar for me. Those all, seriously, influenced my output. Hurtin’Me, Hurtin’ You is my favorite, and it came a bit later. He played it for me the day I met him. He, in fact, came into my kitchen to show me his newest song (it was sure to be raining outdoors!). I played on it with him, once I was in his band. ROBERT JOHNSON mesmerizes me. His early, disturbing death cut short no-telling how great of a career. His songs, filled with earnestness, vocals, and guitar playing draw me in like no other. It is just as tragic what happened to him as what happened to John Lennon. Some of Robert’s creations are among the most unique in the modern history of recorded music. I do not tire of hearing the tracks. GUY CLARK is as pure of a songwriter as I have heard. It was due to his diligence in craftily perfecting his lyrics. Once we heard them on a release the songs had gone through a meticulous process by the master writer. His guitar playing and singing was always very soulful. I am inspired ANY time I hear him. The Randall Knife is the gold standard of a lyrical song. Boats To Build is a masterpiece, too. I used to cover Baton Rouge, as feel-good of a song as you will hear. STACEY EARLE-yes, she is my wife! Her songs, most of them, I was around for the development. I heard her genesis of them, the process she went through, and, oftentimes knew the subject matter firsthand. Her guitar style is one-of-a-kind, a percussive orchestra from a wooden box of strings. I tried to play minimal accompaniment to her over the THOUSANDS of performances we did together. Why is her songwriting not more revered? Her greatest pieces are just that-great. The overshadow factor of her brother is a tragedy. Do yourself a favor: get him out of your head and listen to her songs, not two or three, but 15 or 20 of them. BOB DYLAN (Robert Zimmerman), like many say, is a huge influence for me. I prefer his first four albums more than anything. The Lonesome Death Of Hattie Carroll is unbelievable and forces me to get up from a chair and want to fight for social change. His later career song, Po’ Boy is a favorite. And, I have to re-dissect A Simple Twist Of Fate once a year. I keep finding new things in it. He is what they say he is-a great songwriter. By the way, I learned a lot of guitar from studying him. CHUCK BERRY. There is a reason he is called the “Shakespeare of Rock and Roll”. His songwriting set a standard in the rock pantheon that few could attempt to match. Without all those well-written lyrics to coincide with the string-bending licks on his guitar, the power chords, the country music-inspired vocals, rock music would have been a much lesser platform of musical art. He lifted it up, it has stood the test of time, he influenced millions. The craftiness, like Guy Clark, is to be noted. Funny, my first time to meet Guy was at a small stage where he wanted me to jump up onto the stage and play “some Chuck Berry”. Sadly, I had no guitar with me that day. Years later, I would play a bit with him on HIS tunes. CHUCK BRODSKY is a fellow folk/Americana singer-songwriter. We play all the same festivals, house concerts, theaters, coffeehouses, etc. He is a good friend, too. His lyrics are as good as it will ever get. Countless songs of Brodsky’s are masterfully-written and leave a stir inside you during your experiencing them. I urge anybody to delve into his body of work, especially if you have a taste for the singer-songwriter type of artist. He is incapable of having a weak link in his lyrical pieces. I can hear his Lili’s Braids in my head right now. Moving. Touching. JOHN PRINE was a discovery that changed my songwriting. Once I bought his first album, and soaked up every track, I pivoted my lyrical approach in a way few could cause such a pivot. I learned some guitar from him, though he had a slightly clumsy execution of playing. Sometimes, humor found its way into his songs, when other writers would be too stiff to go there. Then, the darkest of dark could emerge. Place his Let’s Talk Dirty In Hawaiian in front of Sam Stone and see what I mean. I will stop here in listing. I DO love other singer-songwriters. Merle Travis, Tony Joe White, Dave Olney, George Harrison, Carole King, Buddy Holly, Woody Guthrie, Lonnie Wayne Flemmer, Merle Haggard, Roger McGuinn. They are artists I would love to go on and on about. Are any of these listed a surprise to anyone?

   Woody Guthrie. If you are a Van Halen fan you do not know him, with all likelihood. If Merle Haggard and Johnny Paycheck sang your anthems you are not aware of him, with all likelihood. If George Benson and Chuck Mangione were your major interests, then, Guthrie was not on your radar, most likely. However, for fans of Odetta and Phil Ochs and Tom Paxton? Here would be persons versed, somewhat, in Woody Guthrie. Even rock music fans of Bob Dylan (not the early folkie fans) would know OF Woodie, though in a limited way. I remember becoming a bit intoxicated with Dylan. His first 4 albums would leave a real imprint on my musical directions. I began writing songs in a different way. I started delving deeper into acoustic guitar-driven approaches. I BOUGHT A HARP RACK and HARMONICAS. I drove from my Tennessee to New York and performed at a “hoot night” on Gerde’s Folk City stage. But, before these developments happened, I routed backward from Dylan to HIS massive influence, Woody Guthrie. I read his book, Bound For Glory. I got my hands on some of his recordings. I familiarized myself with the social atmosphere that permeated his work, be it songs or poetry or other writings. It changed me. I could sense his influence on OTHERS, at that point. When I heard Johnny Rivers or CCR doing The Midnight Special I no longer heard a Rock’n Roll or R&B record. I knew it was credited to Leadbelly, and understood the historicity around the song message. Guthrie and Leadbelly were friends and I knew that. When I heard Bruce Springsteen’s super-stripped down acoustic album, Nebraska, it had Guthrie’s influence all over it. And, I was quite sure Bruce had found him by tracking backward from Dylan (like me). The idea that music could be taken into the underbelly of this world, and performed with a purpose that was centered around the betterment of people, was a game-changer for me. The notion of singing about the poor, the abused, the powerless-it all left an impression. I came to realize the blemishes of Guthrie, too. The man who felt so determined to sing and write for the downtrodden while leaving his wife and kids at home to fend for themselves-that brought on a shock for me. But, where did his life-ending disease start to affect his actions? Huntington’s Chorea would take Woody’s life at a young age. By then, his influence would have reverberated in a large way. Millions of people would hear lyrics in countless writer’s songs, lyrics that would cause much thought and soul searching. It is in stuff I write and perform today, though most folks do not think of it. In some cases, I will perform a Woody Guthrie song outright, such as So Long It’s Been Good To Know You, Union Maid, Curly Headed Baby, This Land Is Your Land.

    The guitarists to play Woodstock in August 1969 is the subject today! For those who had the soundtrack album and/or saw the movie chronicling the music festival several electric guitarists stood out. Jimi Hendrix closing out the event in the DAYTIME of a Monday (due to the schedule running behind) is, likely, the most memorable guitar moment. Carlos Santana’s undeniable tone, Pete Townsend’s “windmill” strums on “Tommy” material, and Alvin Lee speeding along on his blues-rock jam-out were oft talked about through the years. But, there were some very interesting players to take the stage throughout the several days and nights. Some were not captured at their best moment, some were left out of the film /album altogether. So, in our revisionist atmosphere that we live, some significant champions of guitar are “forgotten” from having played Woodstock. I will mention that Henry McCullough was guitarist with Joe Cocker’s Grease Band. Cocker’s performance is documented, but, most are unaware of the guitarist onstage with him. Having been in Spooky Tooth, and soon to be in Wings, McCullough was a tasteful rock/blues guitarist. His work is on the Jesus Christ Superstar album, McCartney’s “My Love” and “Live and Let Die”, as well as Cocker’s first two albums. Johnny Winter played the gig, but, was not included in the movie and soundtrack album from 1970. It is a shame, as his blistering electric blues was a nice addition to the overall line-up. Leslie West, of Mountain, too, is absent from the initial “public record” of the event. Robbie Robertson of The Band, a legendary guitarist in rock ‘n roll, was stricken from the consciousness of later listeners. Most in the ‘70s, 80’s and ‘90s did not know those above-mentioned graced the stage. A real tragedy, I believe, is how John Fogerty of Creedence Clearwater Revival was “erased” from having performed at Woodstock. That band’s omission from the famous album and movie helped to downplay the importance of the act to THAT audience, in THAT historic moment. CCR were extraordinarily huge in the last half of 1969, and Fogerty’s guitar from that stage should have been heralded through the ages (though they played in the dead of night). Few will notice lead guitarist Henry Gross is in Sha Na Na, later to have solo pop success with “Shannon”. They go onstage just before Hendrix, on the Monday morning. Henry once told me that he was sitting on the edge of the stage while Hendrix played The Star Spangled Banner, having wrapped up the Sha Na Na set. Personally, I would have loved more of Alan Wilson. Canned Heat were at home on this event, but, little is seen of them in the movie. Wilson and his slide guitar playing would be an early “27 Club” member the following year. Stephen Stills is shown with his acoustic guitar, open tuned, on Suite:Judy Blue Eyes. His guitar playing is framed nicely at times, though the elements are messing with his tuning. Richie Havens, also, gets captured strumming for dear life, using an open tuned guitar. Joan Baez demonstrates rock-solid finger-style on Joe Hill, and, is wonderfully exposed as the iconic folk artist of the moment in history that is the Woodstock Festival. Neil Young is there, but, we get no guitar footage. John Sebastian, Arlo Guthrie, Melanie all play acoustic guitar. Hendrix, actually, has a SECOND electric guitarist on this performance! Can you name him? There is a great trivia question. By the way, most of the performances are now available to us all. That came decades after the initial release of the film and soundtrack album.

    Rock music fans do not grow up. This is not true to the letter, but, generally accurate. When you discuss rock musicians, rock albums, rock songs, rock concerts, etc. the “youngster” emerges, even with a 60 year old person. One of the sure signs of this is the opinion, the outlook that is unchanged after decades. For instance, a determination that The Allman Brothers Band of 1970 was the best incarnation the group would ever have, that the musicianship of these twenty-somethings would exceed any pinnacle that the SAME PLAYERS would reach in their thirties, forties, and beyond is ludicrous. Sure, Duane Allman and Berry Oakley died in their twenties. But, did Dickey Betts and Greg Allman become worse artists over time? No. They grew. Were other band members of later incarnations lesser artists and lesser musicians, though they were MUCH older and experienced than twenty-somethings? Who can hear Warren Haynes sing and play and really believe he is lesser than 1970 versions of Duane and Dickey and Greg? Ask most rock fans about all of this and the answer is that Statesboro Blues, Whipping Post, and One Way Out are a high bar that cannot be touched, much less cleared by newer work. Doesn’t it stand to reason that a 40-year-old musician should be more than his/her 23-year-old self? Not according to the rock fan who descends into his 16-year-old mindset when discussing this topic. Even at 60, the teenage maturity level takes center stage when talking of rock music. Have you ever seen those “lists” of greatest music players? In a list of greatest guitarists, be it in a magazine, online blog, or water fountain discussion at work, the top 100 of all-time will consist of 92 rock guitarists. In other words, to be great you must be from the rock genre. “Everyone” knows that rock guitar styling is superior to other guitar stylings. So, Jimmy Page, Eric Clapton, Eddie Van Halen, Slash, Jimi Hendrix, Jeff Beck, Steve Vai, Randy Rhodes, etc. will take their usual places in these “lists”. Just to show that there is SOME attention given outside rock music Chet Atkins and BB King might be on the list. But, that is only because the immature rock fan has heard of them a bit. Uncle Johnny, who plays guitar, has mentioned those players. Maybe, a musician friend has raved about them. So, on the list a few non-rock guitarists go. But, sadly, a couple of death metal players, one roots rocker, and a couple of speedy “shredders” have to be left off the list. Anyway, those 92 “freaks of nature” geniuses are there to be drooled over. You cannot play like Neal Schon or Tommy Iommi unless you are a born genius, right? The high school kid in the 60-year-old body is sure of this. Though he barely can play himself, or cannot play at all, he is an expert at knowing guitarist skill set. Back him into a corner on the discussion, point to the pyrotechnics around the fretboard onstage, the money spent by the record company to promote, and all the countless “lists” that qualify Eddie or Jimi or Stevie Ray as the top guitarists of all-time and the teenage 60-year-old points to the record sales and air play. THAT trumps anything Warren Haynes or anyone else does. After all, it is a proven fact that David Gilmour has been all over classic rock airwaves for decades, and his solo on Another Brick In The Wall is pure genius. Unplayable by anyone else, only by him. The success of Pink Floyd proves it. Yeah? You know Taylor Swift plays guitar. Check out HER success. Look at the sales and the popularity. Shouldn’t she be at the top of the list? 

   Creedence Clearwater Revival songs covered by bar bands is my subject this day. IF YOU ARE COVERING CERTAIN selections by this band there is a need to have a guitar tuned a whole-step low, in order to sound “authentic” (*more on this later). I performed CCR covers in rock bands, country bands, and blues bands. In EVERY case fellow musicians made it a point to NOT play the recorded parts like the record, though going to lengths, to be sticklers, about nailing down the part of other cover songs. In country band experiences I saw painstaking effort to mimic a Sawyer Brown or Keith Whitley number, but, sloppily bastardize a CCR song. On rock gigs the players would never think of going astray on ZZ Top or John Mellencamp songs. But, toss Creedence into the set and this really lazy, cheapened attempt at the parts came into play. It was as if the players had never heard the records, though they could not have missed them! I did stints on blues gigs and witnessed the same approach. Thrill Is Gone (BB King) or Pride and Joy (Stevie Ray Vaughan) would be done closely like those covered artists, almost with a religious zeal to do so. However, Suzi Q? The band, at that point, has no recollection OR interest in being true to CCR (though, a cover of Rockabilly’s Dale Hawkins). Here are my direct pointers about this: 1) All the “swampy” songs in key of E7 are DIFFERENT songs. They are not to be adjoined into a Creedence medley. Green River, Born on the Bayou, Suzi Q, and John Fogerty’s Old Man Down the Road are lyrically separate pieces. Each one has a DISTINCT bass guitar line from one to the other. Each GUITAR part is unique and the drums on each song are different song to song. Doug Clifford is one of rock’s great drummers and he played a SPECIFIC part on his kit for EACH SONG. To put all those songs into one big “pot” and play them the SAME WAY is an insult and makes you a cream-puff lounge band. STOP DOING IT. 2) Do the songs in the key Fogerty sings them and you play the authenticity card. It, also, drives the song. Lower the key because you cannot hit the notes, and, you are that ”cream-puff” lounge band. If no one in the band has the high range you might want to do Jimmy Buffett songs or something, instead. 3) Proud Mary, Bad Moon Rising, Fortunate Son, Lodi, Midnight Special, Run Through The Jungle and some others are on that guitar tuned lower*. In fact, the authenticity is really there for a few of these numbers when you combine a standard-tuned guitar WITH one a whole-step lower. Proud Mary is played from an open E chord shape, but, is lower tuned to be an actual D. The voicing CANNOT sound right if it involves only a standard guitar playing open D shape. That is why most bands throw in the towel and do a much-too-fast “race to the fire” rendering of the song, akin to Ike & Tina’s version. CCR’s original is full of soul and has a fantastic groove. Your party-band version takes that all away, and, yes, you just became the “cream-puff” lounge band by doing it in that fashion. Bad Moon Rising has a mesh of the two guitar tunings (standard and low-tuned), with the lower one giving those “Scotty Moore” licks from the E shape (which is D, actually). Those rockabilly licks only come in during the second verse and beyond. YOU CANNOT DO THOSE LICKS on a standard tuned guitar, key of D. You have to be tuned down and have THE E SHAPE for that. Again, don’t, please don’t, lower the key of the song and sound like the cream…….well, you know. In closing, there is such a thing as putting your own stamp on a cover song, something I am in favor of doing. But, if you are guilty of not listening to these great records and hearing WHAT MAKES THEM GREAT, and, bastardizing the parts played out of ignorance, then, go and admit so. Please do not take the lazy way out and insist you are doing it YOUR OWN WAY as an excuse for not knowing your part. How do so many musicians, actual working professionals, treat CCR music as though it is not worthy of solid execution? The band had a few years of being HUGE in rock and pop music, and, are played forever in heavy rotation in many formats. Down On The Corner, Lookin’ Out My Back Door, Who”ll Stop the Rain?, Have You Ever Seen the Rain?, Up Around The Bend and all those previously mentioned-how has a player NOT HEARD THEM ALL a billion times? How did you not notice the bass and drums and guitar and vocal parts? My guess is that the answer is in another question: why do you play Sweet Home Alabama and Mustang Sally too fast? 

  Drivin’ My Life Away, the record and song released by Eddie Rabbitt is the subject today. In mid 1980 the record, marketed in the country music realm, was unleashed. I had just started my 3 1/2 year stint in a bar band and was 15 years young. My brother “appointed” the song for me to sing, and I did. I never regretted it. It was a feel good number each time it was performed for the “beer joint” audiences on the dance floor. The song itself was a three-way co-write, certainly commonplace in the Nashville industry from where it sprang. Rabbitt and Even Stevens, along with producer David Malloy, are credited with being authors. The theme: truck driving. That theme was an old one in country music, but, the record had a very new, modern treatment. The beginning has a strongly strummed acoustic guitar that feels like the Sun Records sides of Elvis, Scotty, and Bill. It has that same high-energy vibe that Presley himself was capable of playing. The open E chord is played with a slightly “rock and roll” attitude that often could be too polished when placed on Nashville country records. But, not here. It has the approach that John Lennon puts on “The Ballad of John & Yoko” or “ I Don’t Want To Spoil The Party” from Beatles records. The rhythm section has a very high end, current quality, as opposed to truck driving classics by Dave Dudley and others from the 1960s. But, the real moment of the new age of Nashville kicking in the door has to be the lead guitar. With definite rockabilly references, the guitar has a “crunchy” rock texture. That was very new in country at the time. By ‘83 or ‘84 the rock guitar sounds were becoming commonplace on Nashville country releases. Ronnie Milsaps’ “Stranger In My House” and Earl Thomas Conley’s “Don’t Make It Easy On Me” show this effect. But, in early 1980 the guitar sounds were, typically, clean. The overdriven or distortion guitar tracks had been avoided for so long. You can go back to Grady Martin’s “accident” from a blown speaker on Marty Robbin’s “Don’t Worry ‘Bout Me” hit in the early 60s, of course. That grungy lead guitar solo was a maverick on country radio, actually sounding like a saxophone. But, the trend of a crunchy, rock sound from a guitar on country records would start to creep in in the very early ‘80s. Rabbitt, a New Jersey native, would have a follow up hit that went to number one, ” I Love A Rainy Night”, in early ‘81. It, too, would feature an aggressive rock guitar solo, immersed in that overdriven texture. The formula was changing in “guitar town” (a trucker’s reference on CB radio). Is “Drivin’ My Life Away” country? Is it, actually, a fun-time pop/rock record? If The Eagles had released it, had Felder or Walsh played the same guitar part, would it have been all over FM rock stations? It is more rocking than Pure Prairie League’s “Amie” or C,S,N, & Y’s “Teach Your Children”. Both of those have been beaten to death on rock radio for decades.

   There are circumstances where a major artist makes an appearance on another major artist’s recording, and is credited on the official release. The Beatles did an odd thing when they credited Billy Preston on the single release of Get Back (“The Beatles with Billy Preston”). It was very generous, considering that Eric Clapton did not even get a small, liner-note mention for guesting on While My Guitar Gently Weeps the year before (only an album cut, no single). That, likely, was to do with the acts being on different labels. I remember having a 45 rpm of Art Garfunkel doing (What A)Wonderful World and the official release said “with James Taylor and Paul Simon” after Art’s name. I believe Willie Nelson and Merle Haggard’s hit of Pancho and Lefty listed both greats as equal billing, though Hag sang one lone verse. There are instances in which the guest is vocally present, yet, not officially noted on the release. Usually, the small-written credits make a mention. But, did you know Mick Jagger is singing an obvious harmony beneath Carly Simon on her hit You’re So Vain? The release states “Carly Simon” as the artist, no reference to Jagger on the label. Steve Winwood’s Back In The High Life Again features a very clear cut harmony by James Taylor. Linda Ronstadt makes a very noticeable harmony appearance on Neil Young’s Heart Of Gold. Only a read of the small credits of the album artwork gives a clue to those examples, unless you have “educated” ears and can discern those stars’ vocal harmonies. I was surprised to see George Harrison making a guitar appearance on Cheech & Chong’s Basketball Jones track, only seeing it in the liner-notes. After reading the small credit I could hear that it was obviously GH on that lead guitar part. My wife, Stacey Earle, had a major artist guest on her track Kiss Her Goodnight in 2000. We could list the name, but, not “plug” it, as contractual issues got in the way with that artist’s label. Can you guess who is singing and playing a sparse piano and harmonium on it, just by listening? What are your favorite appearances like that, the ones with subtle mention (or no mention)? John Lennon and Paul McCartney on We Love You by The Rolling Stones? Steve Lukather and Eddie Van Halen on Michael Jackson’s Beat It? Rick Derringer on Weird Al Yankovic’s Eat It? 

    Ah, the commentary no one will want to read. Here ‘tis. I have been performing, touring, chasing after dates. Lugging gear in and out of places. Taking the time to dial in the sound. Driving like crazy, 4,5,6 hours on a show day. Posting show info on FB. Sub-teaching between tour runs. People are, still, in my roots music/Americana/Folk/ singer-songwriter world largely not attending live music events. Many presenters in that world are, still, refusing to book a date with an artist. I am booking well into 2023 and it is 2023 that they will, still, not touch. In March it will be three years since normalcy in that touring world. So, three years-plus is the time period that grassroots touring artists have been shutout or nearly shutout. I have to believe many of those folks (attendees/presenters) are not ever coming back to it. One look at college football stadiums on Saturday, one look at NFL stadiums on Sunday, one look at concerts of major mainstream artists will prove that millions of people are willing to pay large amounts of money and spend entire days or nights in a crowd of thousands. But, the folkies, the grassroots music followers, the former lovers of singer-songwriter shows are not going to attend a concert that makes up 75 people. Or, 40 people. Or, 20 people. No, the determination that staying home while 6 people attend, that is the plan. Those who used to go to these shows, but, have dropped out: I know you will not be back. Three years is a pretty long time to be away from it. Those artists do not make the money Swift, Knowles, McCartney, etc. make from touring. They eke out a living. They always did, but not now. Their base has gone away. There is no joy in Mudville, as there has been a strikeout to end the contest. When these “fans” theorize their “return” it will not be in time. Many of those artists will be permanently out of music full-time. Having said that, I will post my tour dates (and local dates) once again on FB. I hope to see you and hope you hear me.

   July 13, 1985. The USA close-out performance of Live Aid. Soooooooooo, my day started with catching performances like David Crosby joining band members, though he was on the lam from a half-way house in Texas (ala Berris Fueller on TV at a Cubs baseball game while he was supposed to be in class). I might be off-base in that remembrance, though. There were many acts reuniting for the event, and many acts I had interest in seeing. A relative came by and kept going on and on about the acts I had less interest in seeing (Madonna, Duran Duran), so, I left. Seeing this as my generation’s Woodstock or Monterey Pop Festival, let’s say I “split”. Somehow, I ended up at a house of some 20 teenagers and young adults. There were mutual friends there and some folks I did not know. I was 20 years old and it was a party house of all folks around my age. The TV was on Live Aid and we all watched things unfold into the night hours. As I discovered Bob Dylan was going to close the show it made me sit on the edge of my seat. I was excited, especially as I was in a fierce period of being under his influence at the moment. Oh, I had bought a harp rack, written lots of new songs under his inspiration, read Guthrie’s Bound For Glory, etc. This would be a great finale to a historic event! I had seen my favorite artist really blow it when the UK Live Aid show (earlier)ended with Let It Be having no vocals. McCartney’s one-song performance was a let down as the lone performer onstage neglected to turn a switch of his microphone to “on”. But, hey, Mr. Tambourine Man would kill it with a performance that would demonstrate why he should be the final act! When he walked out with an acoustic guitar, no band, the room full of youngsters around me began the onslaught of comments. About half of them had never heard of Dylan and questioned why he was going last. Yes, I said that-they had never heard of Bob Dylan. The other half of my room had heard him on radio occasionally and the totality of their knowledge was that he ”could not sing”. A few did the predictable thing and did bad imitations of his voice. Then, it became evident that Ron Wood and Keith Richards of the Stones would flank Dylan with their acoustic guitars. I grew more excited at what was to be! Once the three legendary rock stars began the triple acoustic guitar playing I started to slide down into my seat. Dylan chose to be a 1963-4 version of himself for this mini-set with songs from his very first few albums. There was Ballad Of Hollis Brown, When The Ship Comes In, Blowin’ In The Wind, etc. In the mix from the television his guitar was faint. His voice was way out front and, at times, pitchy. I knew these songs well, but, this rendering was not doing them justice. The guitar of Wood was inaudible for a song or more , as he attempted to play slide guitar. He seemed to be unable to hear it from the monitors, a nightmare in a full stadium with lots of noise. The real embarrassment was Richards. He chose to be a 1981 version of himself, with leg kicks and attitude-laden power strums. Only, the singer was not in a football uniform and prancing away on a runway. And, all his plastic showman mannerisms had a silent guitar attached to it. He, too, was inaudible. The overall sound was very bad. I was happy to see Keith allow his cig, finally, to fall from his mouth. It was not helping things by dangling there. No, it was not improving the performance. Even I understood When The Ship Comes In was not When The Whip Comes Down. As the houseful of undereducated music aficionados around me unleashed the harshest of criticism, well, I had to endure two undesirable things: the bad performance AND the tongue lashing party idiots. I was hugely disappointed by Dylan and his Rolling Stones. The mass audience, worldwide, saw such an amateur performance by such legends. How could this be? Well, many years later Bob Dylan would report in a book that a humongous stage of singers, a choir, were running through We Are The World just behind the curtain. It was to be the grand finale after Dylan’s set, drawing the entirety of Live Aid to a close. While the three acoustic guitar players tried to perform the “stripped-down” songs in front of a full stadium of people in front of them, there were tens and tens of singers rehearsing A SONG behind them. Trying to play one song, while another song is going on loudly nearby, is very difficult. Dylan trudged on with his songs, trying to be a team player. He was being professional under those circumstances. However, millions and many millions of people would never really experience Bob Dylan because of the catastrophic version of him they witnessed. I am sure the 20 “MTV generation” fans around me in that room never went and listened to The Times They Are a’ Changin’ album, one of the great albums of all-time.

 The Rolling Stones, Now! This album was recorded in 1964 and released in early 1965. I was born at the start of that year and our family moved into the home where I would grow up sometime in 1966. I believe some teenagers from the previous family left behind a couple of albums, this being one. As soon as I could pull the vinyl disc from the sleeve and place it on a turntable, well, I did. To my very young ears the sound of the band, The Rolling Stones, was disturbing. There was a menacing element there. Instead of sweet music, orderly musical salve, I heard darkness and near chaos. The guitars were sort of out of pitch and sometimes drenched in heavy reverb or tremolo. I did not know these descriptive words yet, of course. Keep in mind that I was a few years old, at most. But, I still recall what I heard. The singer’s voice was one of no polish. Instead of a fine vocalist he came across as something opposite of that. The intent was not to be a skilled singer, but, someone delivering an unstable message, setting up a weird vibe. I detected that, even at a few years of age. Especially, at a few years of age. It was kind of scary, yet, I was drawn to it! Make no mistake, this was the original Rolling Stones line-up. Brian Jones, now not even a household name to countless Stones concert-goers, was the leader. His fingerprints are all over this music. Jagger and Richards were writing a few songs for those early albums, but, most of the material came from covering Bo Diddley, Solomon Burke, Chuck Berry, and other American black artists. Their take on these covers was of English white musicians trying to forge their own identity from it all. And, they did. No, it was not American blues. But, it was something unique that SPRANG from it. Down Home Girl is the track I most remember giving me an uncomfortable feeling. It was like, as a child, being at a carnival well past bedtime, wandering over to a dark fringe of the midway. The sounds and flashing colors were mixing in with my thought process, and, I was nearly sleepwalking. I was vulnerable and knew it, but, trudged on in my tired legs, hoping the sound would be trusting. Like I said earlier, it was a menacing sound coming from the turntable and speakers, but, a sound that pulled me in to it. THAT was the first Rolling Stones experience for me. And, I hear it a bit from other times in the band’s career. Especially, in the first three or four albums. But, that particular record, The Rolling Stones, Now! (a US release title), is the one. THAT is Rolling Stones for me. It was more under Brian Jones’ influence at the time, and the totality of Jones, Richards, Watts, Wyman, and Jagger made up the group. To appreciate what came from that record try and imagine: no Bee Gees, no Van Halen, no Nights In White Satin from Moody Blues, no Hendrix, no Garth Brooks, no Thriller, no Dark Side Of The Moon, no Beyoncé. Even the Beatles, the larger than life act AT THAT PRECISE TIME, had not created Eleanor Rigby yet. THAT was the point in time when this dark, strange R&B/pop/rock and roll hybrid was released. What a bizarre sound it still is. And, as in my childhood, I am drawn to it.

  This writing will be to honor those who go above and beyond to give support to full-time touring artists. Those who attend shows, and buy merchandise from artists are to be thanked, of course. But, those are not the subjects here. I am referring to those folks who offer guest rooms to artists, even for more than one night, sometimes. To be at the “grassroots” level of touring means you are watching fair chunks of monies from your performances go towards hotels and auto fuel. For a superbly nice person to step up and allow a free night of lodging, well, that is key in keeping the artist in the career. Without those people, scattered throughout the universe of music engagement markets, the artist could very well be left with too little earnings to justify staying in music full-time. I can say that I have strong acquaintances and friendships with such people as a result, too. There are times I can afford the hotel, yet, choose the home stay. Yes, the monies I keep in my pocket are helpful, but, the relationship with the music-supporting friend is of high value. There are far too many people to thank by name here. But, off the top of my head I will recognize the couple in North Carolina. They have put me up countless times. Another friend in that state recently presented me at a house concert, not the first time, because he saw that Covid had shut down my career for a couple of years. I slept in a guest room after the show. One couple in Iowa allowed me to stay multiple nights when passing through, and many times presented me in concert, as well. There are the dear friends in London, England who gave me and my wife lodging many times when our duo was touring the UK. One person in Duncan, British Columbia, Canada area has allowed me to base out of the home while I toured around the island. I could go on and on, thanking people. San Antonio TX, Florida, Arkansas,The Netherlands, Michigan. There are people like these in virtually every area I have toured. Sure, all artists have the so-called “horror” story of going home to lodge with a stranger, and, it has bad results. But, those are few. And, the occasional nightmare has occurred where an artist brings unwanted events to the host! In final, I just want to tip my hat to those who have been so supportive towards me and all touring artists through granting the free stay. Oftentimes, the comfort of a home is just what is needed after some heavy driving hours, or, a hectic night of performing in a strange setting. If you ever gave me the kind of helping hand that I am referencing here-THANK YOU.

  Dreams, career hopes. The topic here is dear to anyone who became embedded, loyal to a craft and career in anything. Certainly anyone determined and faithful to the pursuit for many years, instead of a fleeting span of time. As a kid I was a very good baseball player. Diminutive in size, I rose to be a perennial all-star in my leagues from age 10 through 15. At 16, my body was growing and getting stronger, developing toward a real baseball-sized body. The high school team I played on was grades 10-12. As a sophomore (10th grader) I began the season on the bench, with all playing ahead of me being 11 and 12 graders. However, the third baseman had a season-ending injury in an early game and the coach placed me at the position. I had never played third base, mostly being a shortstop. It was my chance to start and I would be the only sophomore to start for the varsity team that year. I led the team in hitting, logging a .481 average. This is all to show that I was good at the sport and, possibly, had a future in it past high school. My parents would have delighted in my getting a scholarship to play college ball, allowing them to not have to fund the education. However, I had been playing in my father’s bar band every weekend and music was rapidly surpassing my love for baseball. My music “career” had begun at the dawn of turning age 15, some 15 months earlier. There was a struggle, as the high school coach was unbending toward allowing me to miss games due to a professional music engagement. This had been a problem during the season a few times. So, during the early stage of my 11th grade season, age 17, I made the decision to walk away from the game I had loved to dash toward the music field In which I was in love. The coach was indifferent to his best hitter leaving the team, something that always stayed with me. I never looked back, never playing in a formal baseball game again. Years later, at age 37, my brother-in-law took some family members to an early showing of a movie , “The Rookie “. He had written a song that was used in the movie and was given a unique opportunity to see the film before it was in the theaters for general public. As I sat down with a small group of viewers, an acquaintance from the music industry sat next to us. The musician was Duane Jarvis, a fantastic guitarist and artist. He, too, had a song in the film. He and my brother-in-law, Steve Earle, chatted about the honor of having songs they wrote being included. The film was loosely based on Jim Morris, a man who had given up on the dream of making it to the top level of baseball, the Major Leagues. At 35, due to certain circumstances, he was pulled away from his new career as a school teacher and thrust back into a lower tier of pro baseball. It was unthinkable for him to make his first emergence into the big leagues at age 35,but he did. The zenith of the film was Morris (played by Dennis Quaid) calling his wife and kids to inform them of being “called up” to pitch for the major league parent team. Instead of riding around on a bus, playing at minor league venues with limited attendance, and making not-so-great money, he would “climb Everest” and be on a major league field with the best of everything. His uniform and glove, all his tools of the trade, would be provided by professional handlers. His name would not be mis-spelled on a uniform or the scoreboard. Upon Jim being called to pitch in his first game, an aged 35 year old rookie, I felt tremendous emotion from my theater seat. I felt my eyes tear up and trickle down my face. No one in the family gathering around me knew I had cried. I mentioned it to Steve later, as we walked to the car, and he asked me how I liked the movie. See, I was 37 and touring all over the world, driving a vehicle to most of the shows. I changed my own strings, loaded the gear in and out of the venues. I played for small attendance and got “minor league” treatment night after night. I knew, at that time of my life, I was not going to get a major record deal, to play in the major leagues. I would not get to be Jim Morris, even for a fleeting moment. The Grammies? Mainstream radio airplay? Having a full band and tour bus on my concert schedule, all backed by a major label? None of those things were going to happen. And, that is from where the cry came. I had a moment in the theater seat where I could feel Morris’ joy, all felt for him, but knowing how it WOULD FEEL FOR ME. I would not even get to feel the joy of TAKING MY FAMILY TO A MOVIE because my song was in a film. Duane and Steve got to do that and I am happy for them. But, today I am 57. I am probably going to drive into a town near you and perform at a small venue, with small attendance. I will play and sing my heart out for whoever does attend. The love for baseball is still in there somewhere, though I will not swing a bat again. The love for music performing is still in there, and I do it every year of my life. I do not cry over what I missed, but the passion for doing it is the same now as it was at 15 and 16 and 37. 

  More Than A Feeling. Yes, the Boston record, the track. I cannot believe a better Pop/Rock track was ever assembled. Tom Sholz wrote it, played the magical guitars (mostly), and co-produced it. Brad Delp sang it, making his voice one of the all-time greats in rock history just from that few minutes. The lyrics are good, not spectacular, but do create a vibe that results from reminiscence through hearing old music. What IS spectacular is everything about the musical track. The acoustic guitar with the sparkly arpeggios, the string-bending electric guitars doubled into harmony lines, the PRECISION of the pitch on all guitars, the beautiful chord pattern, the punch of the power chords, the mix of the instruments, the marriage of acoustic-based pop with crunchy textured driving rock, and Delp’s perfectly pitched vocals. We had heard “twin” lead guitars from Duane Allman and Dicky Betts (Allman Brothers), from Thin Lizzy’s huge hit The Boys Are Back In Town (earlier that year), and from Bob Wills & The Texas Playboys records. But, this was the most riveting of harmony leads to take the airwaves. At one point Delp climbs an unimaginable height in his vocal range, all in a deliberate melodic series of notes, only to blend and be taken over by Scholz’ feedback guitar note. It is musical perfection. A character, Marianne, is mentioned in the words. There is no background on her, just as Townes Van Zandt drops Lupe & Lil into If I Needed You, and Paul McCartney drops Rose & Valerie into Maxwell’s Silver Hammer. We are not completely sure of the characters except to know the author was keen on the reference. Mostly, we are taken by the awesomeness of the music springing out of the More Than A Feeling record. It is as close to music perfection as Rock ever delivered. It was released in late 1976 and will forever be heard over and over as long as there are outlets for classic rock music.

  The greatest, purest album ever made is my discussion here. It starts with a tour of the US west coast. The artists on tour were a married couple, Stacey Earle & Mark Stuart. Ever heard of them? Anyway, the duo were performing at a venue in Santa Monica, CA (McCabes) and there was an opening act, based out of LA at the time. Some of you might have figured out that the headlining couple was myself and my better half. The LA-based act was a male/female pairing, as well. We watched them perform, noticing the strength of their onstage skills. He played acoustic guitar and sang. She sang. Both were noticeably very confident, mannerisms and eye-contact with audience being top notch. We would have folks open for us all over North America and abroad, sometimes the opener being ourselves. After they left the stage we came in and did our show, one of a polished Folk/Americana duo that toured constantly and made sure guitar parts were well-crafted, harmonies were tight, storytelling was timely. We had some talent, but, I always credited our skill set to work ethic colliding with heavy touring. At the end of the evening it was time to leave in our vehicle and make an hour drive to a hotel. That would cut the drive down the next day, and do so while being “keyed up”. The opening act couple came to say goodbye as we were leaving the building. They were very nice and complimentary, but, we were overjoyed to say how much we truly admired their performance, something we meant. They handed us a CD and we accepted it. Once inside the vehicle, with an hour to drive into the night air, we would put the CD into our car’s player. With no need to use our voices anymore we would drive through the quiet darkness and listen. Usually, a CD handed to us made it to a couple of songs before the need for peace kicked in, and the record would have to be stopped. In this case, track after track played. There was no talking between the songs. After 12 tracks were completed, with absolutely no comments from the two of us, we pulled the disc out. A couple of silent minutes went by, only the highway sounds of rubber on the road and engine running. Then, we looked at one another and agreed that we had just heard one of the best albums ever made. It was stunning. The duo act on the CD were, in fact, a band. But, they pared down to the two principal writers/singers for the opening set. We were awestruck at the perfection of the entire album. The songs were great. The vocals were great, with two stellar singers. The instrumentation choices were perfect and the mix was flawless. Every bass guitar line, all backing vocals, every guitar part, whatever-it was without a weak moment. How were they opening for us? How were they not a household name? By the next day, we had listened straight through a few more times. We could not believe what we had heard and to this day, years later, we each listen to it regularly. Always straight through. Within weeks of my introduction to the CD I was citing it as THE best album I had ever heard. I still say it and I feel like I am grandstanding when I utter the words. Let me be clear: it is the BEST ALBUM EVER MADE. I am convinced of it. Me and Stacey agree that Annie Lennox’ BARE is flawless. PET SOUNDS by The Beach Boys is tremendous. Beatle albums, on and on, Willie Nelson’s RED HEADED STRANGER, …..all great. But, number one is from 2009, made by Bianca Caruso, Lee Ferris, John Classick, Christopher Allis, David Bowick and a few other contributors. The band is Freddy & Francine. The album is The Briar Patch. I am so thrilled to have met Bianca and Lee in Santa Monica, two tremendous talents. They should be very proud-no one has made a superior album to THE BRIAR PATCH. Stacey

  “Namedropping”. Why do it? It seems human nature to try and impress upon others someone you know, especially someone of status. In many cases it isn’t someone you know, just someone you ENCOUNTERED. Does it really improve your standing, your importance, that you were in line with Graham Nash at an airport? Is it bragging rights that you were on a festival line-up as a noontime performer on the little stage in the woods and Sheryl Crow headlined on the main stage at 9:00 PM? How much mileage comes from reporting that your second cousin’s girlfriend used to style Pam Tillis’ hair? It seems like nothing is truly gained by all this dropping of names, yet it goes on wildly. And, in my experience, the legitimate occurrences with famous people tends to have little-to-no impact on anything. For instance, when my music career takes me into the sphere of hitmaking recording artists and network TV shows, bonafide endeavors, no one wants to hear about it or read about it. Though the bio (biography) on my artist website describes my appearance on MTV, Jay Leno’s Tonight Show, opening for Willie Nelson, playing lead guitar in Freddy Fender’s touring band, singing onstage with Joan Baez, playing in bar bands with Warren Haynes, etc. it does not translate to folks attending my shows. And, those are REAL, unembellished experiences of a lifelong performer. Promoters of my concerts like to plug my concerts with all that wordage, but, it NEVER brings people out to an event! Most of the folks who DO attend never read any of that, and are not aware of it throughout the concert. Low tier “gigs”, such as places hiring me to play beneath loud talking hooligans, do not even attempt to exploit my track record. In fact, they seldom even put my name on a sign outside! Is it of ANY value, to name drop? I mean, it seems to create an unpleasant atmosphere more times than not. Once the talker unloads a comment about the co-writing occurrence with a renowned tunesmith, the occurrence that happened once and yielded no successful song, the listener(s) gets ready to change the subject. I remember coming home from a 10-week tour of Europe and UK, and reporting how I had a night of meeting Ron Wood, Bill Wyman, Charlie Watts, and Jeff Beck. Count them-that is three Rolling Stones plus Beck. Upon telling my rock and roll fan friends of the exciting night they all showed little interest. A few of them downplayed it because the three Stones were insignificant. Mick and Keith were not among them, and that disarmed my story. When I performed on The Tonight Show as part of Steve Earle’s band, briefly meeting Charlton Heston and hanging a bit with Leno himself, it was not even mentioned by family and friends afterward. It was as though that is “old hat”, something they take in all the time. There was no curiosity about how the show was put together, how unique it was to be in the universe of Heston and Leno. It was something that was best kept to myself. No one I knew was interested in hearing about it. So, why WOULD one wish to talk of such things? The ”paydirt” is not there, no perks come from it. If anything, you invite ill feeling by telling of it. I have stood in rooms, countless times, listening to clusters of folks trying to one-up each other with name drop after name drop. It is a grotesque sight to watch the competition taking place. And, if you find yourself throwing that stuff out there notice how oily you feel afterwards. The aim is high, but, the end result has cheapened you. We have all done it, most likely. But, it won’t write a song for you. It won’t get you that gig. You will not start to climb the music industry ladder faster. Your musical chops will not improve. If you are not really IN music it will NOT PLACE YOU THERE. The belief is that it is a nice little short cut to those things. Not so.

  This is all about the job of a solo singer-songwriter artist on tour, and the considerations he/she takes. Let’s say the artist has three shows on the books for a Thursday, Friday, Saturday. The Saturday engagement, a folk music series concert, is the “money” date, as is often the case. That is the night of week where the chance of strong turnout is best, thus the earnings will be on the higher end. For this particular artist let’s say there is a $600 guarantee plus lodging in a guest room of someone with a large home. Other artists might consider $250 a big money night, others could garner $1,500 as such. This artist sees $600 as the ”cash cow” of a night. On the night before (Friday) said artist is in a town 4 hours and 38 minutes drive away from the Saturday show site. As Friday night is the NEXT BEST NIGHT OF WEEK for success it has a $400 guarantee. Both Friday and Saturday events allow for extra monies beyond the guarantee (overage), provided the turnout is really good. There is no lodging thrown in for the Friday night, so the artist must fend for self in booking a hotel stay, finding a guest room possibility, doing a campground, sleeping in car, etc. But, before these two engagements begin there is a Thursday night gig. It was booked as a “pick-up” date. See, the artist lives 700 miles from the Friday show, and Thursday’s performance is a way to earn some money while cutting drive time down. Of course, it is not a prime weekend night, and the restaurant/bar is paying the artist $150 plus a meal. There will be a tip bucket in front of the stage and any “extra” dollars will go toward justifying taking the engagement. If $60-$75 is made from the tip bucket a cheap hotel stay could be covered. After fuel costs, the artist could actually profit some $90-$140 on the day’s work. If tips are paltry it looks more like a $60-$75 day. Here is the potential problem for the performer: the Thursday gig calls for three hours of playing and singing. After three hours of pushing metal strings against the fretboard and singing 30-40 songs the artist has placed a certain amount of wear and tear on his/her fingers and voice. On the following two nights this performer will be expected to deliver a strong performance. After all, there is guaranteed monies and lots of prep work put in by the presenter(s). The Saturday night audience and presenter will not be thinking about performances that took place on previous nights, only the one at hand. The artist is aware of this and feels a responsibility to deliver a top notch presentation. Now, in the weeks approaching this cluster of dates it has become possible for the artist to add a Wednesday night engagement to this little tour run. That would be great, right? A fourth date, a bit of a heftier little tour outing. However, it is a rare offering of a midweek house concert, with no guarantee. The expectation from the host is that 15-20 friends/co-workers/neighbors/family will make up the audience. There is a “suggested donation” of $15 per person and a guest room awaits the artist afterward. The performer has to really consider the wear and tear on those fingers and voice over these first couple of performances. Having elected to agree on the house concert the artist drives to show #1 of 4. Upon entering the living room and setting up some gear for the performance, the host’s phone begins to blow up. It is cancellation after cancellation from those co-workers and friends, those neighbors and family members. Oh, well, the audience is now to be 9 or 10 people. Hmmm…the artist knows the earnings will be much slighter than hoped. The intended monies of $225-$300 look more like $135-$150. Wait, if some merch is sold (CDs, Flashdrives, DVDs, T-shirts, etc.) that could amp up the overall take. And, the audience knowing there were lots of no-show audience members, will surely want to buy merch. Right? Not necessarily. As it turns out, the turn out is 7 people ($105) and the sales are dreadful (1 $15 purchase). Furthermore, the 7 folks in attendance (all wishing to be praised for attending on a Wednesday night) seem to expect lots and lots and lots of “talk” time. After all, they are in direct access to the featured artist, with little competition. Questions after questions after questions target the troubadour. The artist knows something, cares about something, that no one else is thinking. SATURDAY is my money date. I need to be, have to be strong in that performance. And, TOMORROW, on Thursday, I am due to play a pick-up gig in a restaurant, where they hired me for three hours of music! The damage to the fingertip skin from pushing down those metal guitar strings, the soreness, coupled with the potentially overused voice could render me lesser than I want to be for that folk series on Saturday. The date that was booked a year in advance, and giving me the $600 guarantee. AND, with an inspired performance on Saturday the audience could buy significant merch numbers. The artist is thinking, late Wednesday night, I have to do as much storytelling and song set-up talking as I can get away with, on the Thursday three-hour restaurant gig. I have to stay away from certain hard playing guitar parts or repetitive chord voicings, things that cause substantial exhaustion to my hands. The upper range songs need to be excluded, if possible, or adjusted, vocally, to reduce the strain to my voice. Yes, these things are being plotted by the artist. Friday requires a solid performance. Saturday requires a solid performance. Where does the planning begin? Way back to when the dates were booked. And, as the tour develops, such as adding a Wednesday engagement that had questions attached (many questions, in fact) the artist has to be considering many things. It is her/his job. For those who read let me make it very clear, in case your mind tells you otherwise, touring singer-songwriters are doing a job. It is something to be considered.

  First album, maybe first two or three-that is the topic here. It is amazing how many people fall in love with a musical recording act upon the first album, then, cannot accept anything the act does after those first few years of recording. In some cases, it is the debut album that is great, but, all else has to pale in comparison. In other cases, the fan is onboard for a few albums before tuning out everything that comes later. In the event an artist/band continues to create and generate music work for decades, you can count on a significant part of their fan base to be lukewarm about all the later releases. I have seen countless folks be unaware the later records were even made! How many Peter Frampton “fans” have his records after the ‘70s? How many Don McLean “fans” love his songs that are not titled “Vincent” or “American Pie”? Willie Nelson keeps touring and recording, yet, how many of his music loving fans buy the albums that were not made in the ‘70s and ‘80s? Did Skynyrd make albums after they reunited in the late ‘80s? Uh, yeah. How many Lynyrd Skynyrd fans bought them? How many know the words to THOSE songs as well as they know “Mr. Saturday Night Special” or “That Smell”? How many are aware that 1987 through this minute is 35 years? How much music got made by the band’s personnel in that 35 years? In some cases, artists/bands get signed to a label and record the debut album while being at a certain place, creatively speaking. As the act grows the music takes on new shapes, new sounds, new approaches. Thus, albums that come later catch them at THAT particular place. The problem comes when the fan, or significant fan base number, rejects anything that is not a rehashing of the initial release(s). There is backlash toward the undesired “growth” made by the musicians. See, the audience, the “fans”, did NOT grow. So, they are not understanding of the changes. There are other situations where an act responds to a certain musical climate at the time, producing music to suit the atmosphere of the business. It is not really where the act’s strength is, or, where the passion is. But, the adjustments allowed for a success. Then, when the sophomore album (or third) gets made it is more in step with WHO THE ACT REALLY IS. However, the fan base loved them for what THEY knew them to be, and expect more music like that. After no real “return” to the debut album “formula “ the fans depart. 6-8 albums later that same fan base is completely unaware the act makes records. And, is unaware the act ever performs! Yes, I am talking about the 18 year old guy with his girlfriend on his shoulders, 10 feet from the stage because they got there hours early to fight it out for stage closeness. They bought T-shirts, listened to nothing but that act for weeks before and after the concert came to town, and would forever recall the magic in the music of that artist (or band). By age 32 or 35 those “fans” are so out of touch with any music released by the act that they cannot name a single song from the recent decade. They do not know of an album or albums being released. But, WAIT! The act comes to town for a show and the couple dumps the kids at mom’s house. Off to see the “magic” music act they go. Then, during the concert the couple are giving one another strange looks. What are these songs? Do you know this material? That has happened because the fans abandoned the musical act and did not stay in touch. AND, the expectation is that those really early songs are what should be played over and over, night after night, for decades. The act should stay stuck in time, in a musical place, for life. Growth? Development? Expanding the musical landscape? No, those things are not to happen. I seem to recall Mark Knopler recording an album of duets with Emmylou Harris. He used some Nashville players, and had Emmylou do the subsequent tour with him. Unfortunately, the venues were filled with lots of Dire Straits fans, expecting Knopfler to only do Dire Straits material of old. The “rock” audience were not real tolerant of the country stuff from the new album. AND, many of them DID NOT KNOW WHO Emmylou Harris WAS, despite her being an iconic music artist. Another recollection of mine is mentioning from my stage that I had been on a tour with Folk icon Joan Baez, and a person shouted out “you are too young to have toured with Joan Baez!”, questioning my authenticity. I told the person I had been 35 years old on that tour, and was plenty old enough to have pulled off the job description. The problem was that the lady in the audience thought of Joan as a 1960s act, and knew I would not have performed with her as a little lad. She could not believe that Joan was touring in the year 2000. If one knows about the discography of one Joan Baez, then, would know how many of her albums had been ignored by this audience person. I toured as guitarist for Folk-Rocker Steve Forbert off and on over the years. It was startling how often his fans brought vinyl albums for his signature, albums from late ‘70s/early ‘80s, but refused to walk over to the merchandise table and pick up his “newer” CDs from mid ‘80s through deep 2000s. I would engage in small talk with them at the intimate, acoustic-based performance settings. The recurring comments I heard were “I used to go hear him back in college. I didn’t know he still was touring.” Yeah? He has been touring AND making records. They are great, his songwriting is great. You missed a lot of music made by an artist you admired way back when. Some of those CDs had ME playing on them. That is what really hurt, come to think if it. They were unaware of MY appearances on his CDs.

  Concert vs. gig is the discussion. You can substitute “show” for “concert”, if you like. Any musical performance that is booked/placed on calendar can be called “engagement” or “date”. Multiples of these bookings/dates/engagements can be generalized as “work”, as in “I have lots of work this month”. The point of this commentary is to establish that there is a difference between performing in a concert/show setting, and, doing it as a hired music act that is not the focal point of activity. For instance, getting booked to play songs in a sports bar, while TV screens are active in the room, while people socialize loudly over top of the music, while food is ordered and eaten with little regard for the background of musical performing going on, is referred to as a “gig”. It would never be called a “show” or “concert”. If the performer calls it that, knowing the circumstances at hand, there is delusional thinking going on. If one performs at an outdoor market while folks shuffle past, looking at fruit or art, that is a “gig”, not the other. What constitutes a concert? Ah, that is an easy answer: A TICKET. Except for unique situations where a concert is taking place and FREE TO THE PUBLIC, the ticketed event is the game changer. To pay entry for a musical show, and to find little to do, aside from listen to the music, is a concert experience. Sure, there could be access to drinks, even food, but the performance is king. The important aspect above any other is the musical act doing a show performance. When I began my life in music professionally, in other words performing for money, I was one of several things the room of folks took in. There could be dancing to my music, drinking, socializing, video games (very new thing then), billiards, dart throwing, meal eating, advancements toward potential sex partners, etc. It was certainly not a show. There would be thousands of gigs for me before getting to enjoy a concert performance. Years and years before I experienced it. Once I had an audience, people truly listening/watching what came from me and fellow performers, I did not wish to return to the previous performing life of being ignored (or abused). However, I would always maintain the skill set that allowed me to accept it when people had other reasons for being in front of me, and ignored the music. I can “flip a switch” and fall back into “bar band guy”, pumping out song after song. The two scenarios of (1) playing for an attentive audience who are there to be entertained, and (2) being mostly background music for socializing persons are distinct from each other. I can be both, though developed the “concert” skills later than the other. The problem arises when the two situations are merged together in one setting. There are ways to avoid having that happen, and persons in charge do just that, generally speaking. However, there are occasions where poor judgement is made by someone. That can all be avoided by reading this commentary! Shows have “presenters” or “promoters” who helm the event. The said person “puts on a concert” or presents an artist/act. A room is established for the concert (booked, rented,etc.). The promoter, then, does something that is a dying art in the grassroots level of concerts: he/she PROMOTES. It used to be, not long ago at all, that posters were placed in strategic places where music lovers might see them. Advertisements were purchased in music “rags” and such. In the event the ads could be placed free of charge, the promoter pounced on those opportunities. Sometimes, a local radio station could be persuaded to drop a few mentions of the upcoming show. Usually, that was paid for, but necessary in many markets. Word of mouth was capitalized by this presenter, knowing the specific circles of folks to share the info. An artist had posters that would be mailed to the presenter and a website with all needed info for the promoter to use on his/her end. On the day of the show specific things take place that separate the specifics from those of a gig. One thing is that giggers will show up, oftentimes, as late as possible. They will set up gear and adjust it IN FRONT OF THE VERY PEOPLE WHO WILL BE IN ATTENDANCE. They will wear the same clothes they perspired in, or same as the patrons, during the performance. They will make tweaks of the sound during the first several songs, not having it sound pleasant until a few songs in to the performing. Venue workers are, typically, unprepared for the arrival of musicians. The stage area is not ready for setting up gear. At times, there are patrons sitting right where the performance is to be, and the long wait for them to leave is at play. During the load-in people stop the musician with comments and questions while they are trying to prepare to play the gig. The flip side, the concert scenario, has an article hitting the local paper about the show on the very day of it. Or, the artist(s) stop into a local radio station and do a brief interview/performance to plug the event. There is a sound check well before showtime and the actual concert attendees are not there, so, not privy to it. Upon the first note the PA is dialed in and sounds good. The performer(s) walks on with a confidence and starts the performance with dignity and a swagger. Usually, the onstage person(s) do not look exactly like audience members. The attire and other things separate them from the attendees. The attendees are prepared for material and musicianship that is unique to the performer(s), not expecting cookie-cutter renderings of “bar room classics” and overtired radio covers. This setting is a concert experience, the aforementioned is a gig. In some instances, a presenter attempts to house a show in a venue where non-concert attendees are allowed in the room with the other. Sometimes the non-listening person who is not there for the show is not charged entry, while the actual listeners ARE! This mixing of two incompatible groups is always a conflict, really nightmarish at times. One group resents that the “bar band” performer is attempting to reel them in to a listening/attentive experience, while the other group strains to enjoy through a din of talking, “rude” people. If one has the skill to blend the two experiences into one thing it is miraculous. I have done it, made it work. Other times, the particular “problem children” in the room made me fail in my attempt to meld the two. Certainly, I could do without having to go through the process. Many gigging musicians have never played a show. And, I know concert performers who rarely ever had to endure gigs that were non show engagements. In my case, always trying to pad my schedule, always seeking to “work”, to have my calendar full of dates, I am open to whatever is thrown at me. That is with one caveat-I want to know going in what it is to be.

 The topic is ”music snobbery”. Everyone is guilty of it, some more than others. Why? Our ears hear and “think” of music, with our natural emotions taking a roll in the experience. We seem to find certain things very appealing, other things not so much. However, ingesting things much, as opposed to a one-off listen, allows us to develop more understanding of it. And, a broader appreciation comes with that. In some cases, having someone point out an element of music we had been unaware of, triggers a newer idea of it. Meaning, we just might grow to like or love a music work that we previously did not. This reminds me of being in an art gallery, being “dumbed down” to a painting, and having no interest in it. Then, someone mentions a brush stroke technique, or color coordination used by the artist and we see it in a different way. An appreciative way. But, do we wish to take time to “study” the paintings and artists behind them long enough to make that step? The step that could bring us a new joy in life? In music, it is very common to continue onward, year after year, disinterested in “Chicago blues shuffles” or mainstream country music, because we dig in to our viewpoint that those are things we do not like. And, we tune those music forms out every chance we get. We choose to NEVER LISTEN TO THEM. In the event we hear that music in passing the condescending thoughts pop up, even get spoken aloud. Some people seem to hate bluegrass. Some loathe any rap/hip hop. There are snobs toward heavy metal, acoustic folk, jazz, and on and on. Some folks specifically do not like music because it is widely popular! Others dislike anything that is not major label mainstream fare. An artist and her musical art that is at a grassroots level cannot have any merit, no. Only major stars with huge corporate “machinery” in place can deliver worthwhile music. In some cases, specific artists are disliked, though other acts in the same genre are appreciated. How does such pronounced snobbery get into our minds and hearts? Isn’t it possible to take in a classical piece, followed by a rockabilly record, and enjoy SOMETHING about both? Can we not find a strand of appreciation for hearing Celine Dion AND Martina McBride AND Alicia Keys AND Melissa Ethridge sing? Isn’t there something noteworthy in the lyrics of rap artists AND Folk/Americana artists? I have witnessed grotesque snobbery toward guitar playing. There will be an overwhelming love for blues/rock players (especially major stars), while totally disliking all country music guitar-ing. In other words, David Gilmour and Eric Clapton are “amazing” players, yet Vince Gill and Brad Paisley are not to be counted at all. I have seen people froth at the mouth over metal “shredders”, such as Yngwie Malmsteem and Steve Vai, but totally dislike the rock playing of John Fogerty and Keith Richards. I believe the insistence on limiting our scope, narrowing what we listen to (and like), is unhealthy. It feeds on being intolerant. It feeds our being unhappy. I mean, when we are forced into an evening (or few minutes) of something we are not elated about, our mood is darkened. Furthermore, our snobbery is, oftentimes, unfair. The artist and art we disrespect, in fact, has a long journey of skill, talent, work ethic, etc. How dare we regard it as having nothing positive about it, or qualities to it? We seem to live in an environment where “cherry picking” what is great, and completely “trashing” the rest is commonplace. It seems to get more divisive all the time. What is the computer talk-is the term “binary”? It has to be one or the other. Our way or the “highway”. I think I will go listen to Alanis Morissette right now. I never cared for her records. Maybe, a newer listen will change that. Who will you go and give a listen? 

 “Who do you play with?” This is the oft asked question when someone discovers another plays music for a living. The question constitutes that the musician plays with a specific act or for an artist performer, I guess. It immediately makes assumption that any musician has one function, and that is to be in one ongoing band permanently, or to be a side person player for one artist long term. The awkward truth is that countless musicians perform “with” numerous bands/musicians/artists. In Nashville, where I grew up, it is tremendously commonplace to be spread around, as a player. You do a gig twice a month with a blues combo, jump on a tour bus with an artist or two on occasion (for little tour runs), include in a couple of rock bands for ”fraternity party” engagements, and play on sessions with whoever hires you. The question is fair, I suppose, if the one asking is prepared for a true answer. That person NEVER IS! In my case, I might start to say “Well, I was Billy Don Burns’ guitar player in ‘83 and ‘84. In ‘90, I was Freddy Fender’s guitarist, while much of the’80s and ‘90s had me fronting my own band, which had more than 100 different players. The members were Warren Haynes, my brother, Steve, Al Lauro on drums, Rick Gerkin on keyboards. The different players are a long list. Also, I was in a duo with my wife, Stacey Earle, for 20 years. But, I did stints as Steve Forbert’s guitarist off and on in the 2000s. For a couple of years ,’95-‘97 or so, Steve Earle employed me as a multi-instrumentalist. I played in a New York rock band, fronted by Shane Stenstrom, a couple of stretches. Moetta, a piano-pounding soul singer, employed me a number of times.” However, I would not get past the first sentence. The person posing the question would tire of my answer before it was off the ground. To make it stranger, I have performed solo for a few thousand dates, as have countless performers. In recent years that has been my primary performance situation. And, that means I play “with” no one, except myself. The answer I might give about that scenario always gets cut off quickly. If I am not playing “with” anyone, then, there is no need to answer. In other words, the question seems to have a motive: to fish out if the musician is a hired “gun” for a FAMOUS person, and if so, can that be elaborated about? If the answer does not bring THAT result it is not an answer that is allowed to be completed. Where does this pattern, one so commonplace, originate? It seems ingrained from an early age. Why is it so strange that a full-time music person could have a wide range of musical engagements, or, could only perform as a solo act? It seems those things are all around us. Does the questioner not see it all? Is it important, maybe, that musicians be compartmentalized? Meaning, a musician is stereotyped as one particular thing? An acquaintance of mine, Danny Flowers, used to be referred to as the “guy who wrote Tulsa Time” all around Nashville. It seemed so simplifying, as he is a fantastic guitarist, and singer, AND he wrote many other songs. But, boxing people in, cornering them into a preconceived description, that seems to be the nature of many. 

 The topic (yawn)…guitar nerds, gearheads, etc. Far too many times I am in a dressing room or behind a stage, about to perform, and a little cluster of these guys (always guys) are gathered in front of the stage. I hear them talking about my axes, the ones onstage that will be used in my PERFORMANCE. I realize that my songs, my playing, my vocals, my storytelling will take a backseat to the fascination with WHO MADE THE GUITARS, and WHAT YEAR. No doubt, I know the information concerning those issues. No doubt, being a pro, I have pro instruments and gear. But, the real reason I drove 5 hours to be there was not to parade my guitars. It was to deliver a performance, MY performance. Ah, but, the conversing goes on and on: other artists and their gear gets mentioned, there is talk of the personal likes and dislikes of certain instruments and pick-up systems, on and on…(another yawn)…. I try to work guitar clinics into my touring schedule as it is enjoyable to teach, and it helps pad my schedule with earning scenarios. I love to watch folks learn more guitar skill, to progress as a player and ratchet up the joy in doing it. But, again, we only get into the workshop/class after the students arrive and do their gearhead conversations. The Taylor discussion, the second Taylor discussion, the third…(yawning again). Finally, I get the players to play and focus on the advancement of playing guitar. That is when, to a large degree, the time spent PLAYING guitar is exposed as a scarcity, while the TALK of guitar is with more regularity. Why is that? Why does the fascination of talking the talk far outweigh walking the walk, meaning really playing? Have I ever mentioned that I can play a few thousand songs? I cannot believe that would be possible if I had spent lots of times in discussion about finishes, pick-ups, tuning gears, factories, etc.

  Tapers. Oh, how I used to encounter them most every night of performing. “ Do you mind if I record?” “If you are okay with my recording I will send you a copy.” Oftentimes, they would bring in gear that would need to be set up in the room, an annoyance to those around it. Or, they would want to “patch in” to the soundboard, something the sound technician had to allow and deal with. Meanwhile, I had just driven all day, finished a sound check, and was busy constructing a merchandise table. Yes, a “merch” table that contained RECORDINGS OF MY MUSIC THAT I HOPED TO SELL. Unconscious to that concept, all of those concepts, the taper proceeded to record the live performance and, later, make copies. Usually, those copies went to OTHER TAPERS. On occasion, an audience member would forego buying my professionally recorded/mixed/mastered product from me, instead waiting on a copy of that particular show (sent from the taper). Of course, once they heard it and realized the clapping hands two feet from the recording device gave an intolerable sound between songs, they never listened to it again. And, my proper recording sat there un-bought, not to be heard. If the taper patched in to the board the nearby claps and private comments were not evident. However, the audience reactions were distant or non-existent in the listen, not how the audience member remembered the experience. Once, a taper I knew allowed me into his home in NYC. He had thousands, yes thousands of recorded performances in meticulously stored shelves through his abode. He had shows he taped. And, he had thousands, yes thousands of shows captured by other tapers. There were low-tier singer-songwriter acts like me, and, mega-stars such as Springsteen. I should mention the artist’s first name, in case the reader is unfamiliar. That is BRUCE Springsteen. You know, the Jessie’s Girl guy. You know, that guy with Stephen Stills and Ritchie Furay and Neil Young in his band. Anyway, back to the tapers: the day came when a cell phone could now be used for recording. Ah, anyone can be in the taper society! And, so it became. The attempt at etiquette went away. No longer do I hear the polite requests anymore. “Do you mind if I record?” “Hey, is it okay? I promise to send a copy to you.” Now, the audience becomes full of those who tape. And, hey, no need to catch the whole show. No need to catch a whole song. They will hold their hand up for some 35-45 seconds and capture a piece of a song. Then, they can look down and fidget with the device for the remainder of the song. Oh, and look, there are a couple of texts coming in. Aunt Hilda has a picture of her crab legs she is about to eat. They should let her know they look good and make a little joke to her about it. Oh, wait! Is the show over? No matter, they caught a little piece of it on their phone. Does anyone remember that pop band, The Jaggerz? The one-hit wonder group? Ah, ah, ah they call him the taper…The tapers-isn’t that a female condition associated with the 19th century? No, it is a group of people with so much recorded music, non-commercial recorded music, that there are NOT ENOUGH YEARS IN THEIR LIVES to listen to it all. But, that was never the point. The point was to have bragging rights as to how much of it you have, or which show you captured that other tapers missed.