Wooooooooooooo!

Well, my Redskins lost on a last second field goal, but I'm still in a great mood. Because it's only preseason, you ask? No. I thoroughly expect my team to win EVERY game it plays. I just got a text from Banjo Jimmy:



Jimmy--the former punk drummer turned banjo player with whom I had some productive jam sessions last summer--and Dan (Devine)--the guy who hosted the fantastic musicians-and-friends-only mountainside festival-like shindig I attended around the same time--are two fantastic musicians--among the absolute best I've ever played with. I am very excited to be starting a real project with them both, and I will keep y'all updated on everything right here.

Here's--prophetically?--a picture of the three of us jamming out, from Dan's musician's party last summer. I'm the one on the right, and you can guess which one Banjo Jimmy is:

I Have Squeezed Blood from a Stone

Pictured above is an actual text--just figured out how to "print screen" on an iPhone!--I received from Ronno, after we spent the weekend jamming out sporadically.

Mission accomplished.

To quote Penny Lane from Almost Famous,

It's all happening.

The last post I put up here was written, around 10 am, on zero sleep. After all the housemates and guests had left/passed out, I was left, as usual, alone--insomniac that I am. Instead of doing what I normally do when said situation arises every night (read a book or the internet until I get tired,) I decided to be productive and scour the internet for bluegrass videos and websites to learn as much as I could. I practiced (quietly) and watched bluegrass on my iPhone on the screened-in porch until the sun came up. I've always been a fan of the bluegrass, going back to childhood and later, especially, during my time spent at Emory & Henry College way down in the Appalachians of Southwestern Virginia. Now, bluegrass is a full on obsession.

Anyway, Sunday morning, no sleep: after I finished the previous post, I tooled around the house a bit, had coffee/breakfast with some of the house mates, and was thinking of actually sleeping when Jimmy called to say that the bi-monthly bluegrass jamboree was going on at Frying Pan Park. Jimmy said he would be there and that I should play too. I said of course, and immediately threw on another pot of coffee, which I gulped down before grabbing the Martin and heading for Frying Pan.

It was an amazingly gorgeous Sunday. For the 3 or so hours I played, I made my musical company with 4 other guitars, 2 stand-up basses, 4 banjos (including Jimmy's,) 1 mandolin, 2 fiddles, 1 dobro, and 1 bona fide gut bucket. Jimmy and I were the only ones under the age of 40, and it was a really cool feeling to see the supportive, encouraging, and appreciative looks on the faces of the older musicians around the circle. It's all about keeping the music alive. When the jam ended, I mingled with the others for a while, and ended up getting invited to a couple other jamborees in the area--Arlington, Round Hill, and Oakton--which I'm definitely going to attend.

That's about all for now, but before I go, a link and a youtube video playlist I just made:

Jimmy's myspace has a handful of his banjo tunes, one of which ("Yonder Stands Maggie") he recorded with Warren Underwood, the cool-as-hell 70-something banjo player I met at the jamboree. Jimmy insisted that the mp3s are all at least a year old, and don't reflect how good he actually can play now, but I still think they're pretty awesome.

And the video playlist I've prepared is my new bible of bluegrass guitar magic:
1.) Tony Rice - Church Street Blues
2.) Robert Bowlin - Maybelle
3.) Norman Blake - Nashville Blues
4.) Tommy Emmanuel - Guitar Boogie



Rawk!

musicmusicmusicmusic

Friday night, besides his banjo and Russell, the lead guitarist, Jimmy brought over a hybrid set of Martin Bluegrass strings and suggested that I restring my old Martin with them because the combination of Martin strings/Martin guitar would sound better for our purposes (bluegrass) than what I'd previously been using (Elixir/Alvarez). The strings are definitely thicker (.056-.014) than I'm used to (.050-.012), so both my callouses and forearms got their respective workouts. And, since Jimmy also suggested that I try playing in the more bluegrass-friendly standard tuning in first position only (as opposed to D-A-D-Gb-B-E with the capo all over the place), the added tension on the 6th and 4th strings required a cramp-inducing level of left hand pressure on my part.

Don't get me wrong, though, Jimmy was right. It'll take some getting used to, but maaaan my Martin sings now. I'm tempted to record and post some video(s) of myself while the guitar still sounds so immaculate. None of the roommates have been awake yet, and I've been playing all morning. I'm about to get back to that, but I wanted to post a little youtube video of Tony Rice playing "Shenandoah," from the documentary "Bluegrass Journey." I only mention that it is from a documentary because at [5:06/5:45] there is a FANTASTIC, unattributed quote laid over Rice's playing:



One of the things about art is you give people an excuse to take some time and to be quiet and pay attention to something and, maybe under the guise of enjoyment, think about important things in life.

Wawaweewah

I have not smoked (any) enough weed tonight to be this high.

Kristin brought over her ex-bandmate Jimmy--who used to play drums in her and Jack's old punk band The Magnums--to the house tonight.

I'm still drunk, obvi, so this is hard to type.

Jimmy--not a drummer anymore--brought his banjo with him. He's really into bluegrass and rootsy country.

(So am I coincidentally.)

And we hit it the fuck off.

I was playing (fingerstyle) exclusively in my M. Ward-ified D-A-D-Gb-B-E tuning, and Jim was banjo-ing up some crazy fast on-the-fly detuning/retuning-in-rhythm banjo lines...I was blown away. We played a ton of classic bluegrass standards, and each of us was learning (on-the-fly) a ton from each other.

We both want to make music (profitably--hah. Bluegrass?!) together on a level I've never touched before and, for once, I think it's possible.

Jim is supremely talented. And, without trying to sound like a total dick in saying so, is the only musician I've played with who is above my own level of proficiency in playing the music I (we) want to be playing.

On top of that, our intra-song conversation shifted from the political to the social to the religious, and we both agreed on fucking everything. Down to the dots on our 'i's.

There were about 20 audience member/guests at the house tonight to witness Jim's and my impromtu collaborations, and yes...the cops were indeed called.

But keep an eye out. This shit is gonna go somewhere. (Bristol, Virginia?)

PS - Oh yea, and last night I totally met this amazingly cool and paradoxically hot Argentinian lady-friend at a little cross-town(street) Memorial Day pool party and she is the awesome. I want to be on her, and have some optimism that I might.

I have not smoked (any) enough weed tonight to be this high. For the first time ever, I literally got high from simply playing music tonight. I want to feel this way all the time forever.

I have always wanted to be a musician. Tonight, finally, scientifically, proved it.

For the immediate now, I am drunky and going to bed, and Jimmy is already crashed on the downstairs futon. More to come soon...

Rawk.

It's crazy late but I'd be remiss if I neglected this update before I sleep...

Fink, Greg and I all saw Arlo Guthrie for the second time in 3-ish months tonight at the Birchmere; we'd last seen him with Richie Havens at Wolf Trap sometime around the end of the summer. Not sure exactly when the Wolf Trap show was, but I have the ticket stub somewhere in my wallet...

'Who is Arlo Guthrie,' you may ask? 'Well,' I'd say, 'He's only the son of Woody, the most revered figure (well...at least for longer than Bob) in American folk music history. He performed at Woodstock and he also happens to have written one of the best 18-minute-long protest songs evah, "Alice's Restaurant."'


Despite the best efforts of the Birchmere security staff, I managed to sneak some (really shittily shaky and blurry) videos of the performance...here's a cool clip from the final 3 and a half minutes of "Alice's Restaurant":



0:45 - 0:55 - Imagine two of 'em [men] walkin' in [to the draft board], hand-in-hand, singin' in harmony, [you can get anything you want at Alice's restaurant]...I don't understand the policy, but I guess if you tell 'em, you ain't goin'!


2:03 - 2:22 - [After the audience participated in the first sing-along chorus/finale:] Oh no. That sucked. You can't just start singin' louder just at the end or something...you woulda thought after all this time, you woulda learned by now that if you wanna end war and stuff you gotta sing loud all the time so people can hear you.

Fantastic fantastic experience. Again.

You can get anything you want
At Alice's Restaurant.
You can get anything you want
At Alice's Restaurant.
Walk right in, it's around the back
Just a half a mile from the railroad track.
You can get anything you want
At Alice's Restaurant.